Aemond Targaryen

The prince's violet eye was lost in nothingness as he watched the flames of the fireplace burning before him. Seated in an armchair in his private chambers, he had a glass of wine on the small table beside him, but he hadn't drunk a single drop of the crimson liquid. He only stared at the fire in silence, sinking into his own dark thoughts and ideas. He sighed, resting his chin on his hand, his face completely expressionless.