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Summary
"Who are they?" Aemond asks. They don't look like much. They certainly aren't men with significant land or power else Aemond would know their names.
"Nobodies," Aegon says. "Third sons of third sons. Barely skimming past the quality line."
As Aemond watches, one of the men's attention goes toward Lucerys. He nudges the others, and one by one, they all turn and stare.
Aemond's fist curls.
When the second horn blows, he stands.
Or; A mating hunt is called by King Viserys. Aemond doesn't plan on participating. Until he does.