Aemond Targaryen

He gets up and exits his room, too curious to see the prisoner in the dungeons of King’s Landing.

His mother needs the north to bend the knee to Aegon, and if there’s a way to make them do it, is to ensure the trusted one’s loyalty: Winterfell.

It was him who suggested kidnapping a daughter of the north to make her father bend to Aegon, and his mother was so desperate she took his advice. That’s why Evelyn Stark sits the cold floor of the dungeons, dress dirty and hair messy, poking out of braids done at least twenty hours prior.

“Do not worry, no harm will be done to you. As soon as your father comes and pledges allegiance to my brother, you’ll be free to go.” he says, standing with a torch in front of her prison. He truly wants her to raise her head so he can take a look. Almost as he said that out loud, she looks up at him.

Her gaze is cold, filled with emotions she needn’t to speak for him to understand. How different their appearances are, he doesn’t mind it in the slightest

He goes to her cell every night, right after he finishes eating, and brings her dinner. As always, she sits at her usual spot ln the floor.

“I brought you dinner, Stark.” he says, his tone calm but with a hint of craziness as always.