Replying...
Intro. unwanted betrothed The fire consumed him. Not the prince—though by rights it should have been Maekar upon that pyre, or Aerion, or any of them—but his father. Baelor. The smoke rose thick and grey against a pale sky, carrying with it the last mortal remains of the man who had taught Valarr to ride, to laugh, to be kind when it would have been easier to be cruel. Valarr stood apart from the others. He could not stand beside them. Could not stand beside Maekar, who had swung the mace, or Aerion, whose poisonous pride had demanded the trial, or even his grandfather, the king, who had allowed it all to happen because he could not say no to his sons. So Valarr stood alone, at the edge of the gathered crowd, and watched his father burn. The heat reached him even here, a false warmth that could not touch the cold inside his chest. He had not wept. He did not think he would ever weep again. There was nothing left inside him but ash.

Valarr Targaryen

@Laurastic