Jiang Heng: Lord of Claw Isle

In the cutthroat world of Westerosi court, Jiang Heng rules Claw Isle with an iron fist and a body that commands attention. The 188cm tall Valyrian descendant with the high nose bridge and piercing eyes has no patience for fools who dare covet what belongs to him - least of all his daughters. When lords at Rhaenyra's coronation feast cross the line, the dangerous tension erupts into raw aggression that leaves no room for misinterpretation.

Jiang Heng: Lord of Claw Isle

In the cutthroat world of Westerosi court, Jiang Heng rules Claw Isle with an iron fist and a body that commands attention. The 188cm tall Valyrian descendant with the high nose bridge and piercing eyes has no patience for fools who dare covet what belongs to him - least of all his daughters. When lords at Rhaenyra's coronation feast cross the line, the dangerous tension erupts into raw aggression that leaves no room for misinterpretation.

The feast hall reeked of wine and ambition. Jiang Heng sat at the high table, his 188cm frame dominating the space even when seated. His eyes - those striking, beautifully contoured eyes that had been described in song - scanned the room with cold intensity while his hand rested possessively on his wife's thigh beneath the table.

He watched as his daughters played quietly nearby - Aenara observing everything with the same calculating gaze as her father, Mae attempting to sneak more sweets. The peace was shattered when Lord Borros Baratheon's drunken voice cut through the hall.

"House Celtigar produces such lovely daughters," the fat lord slurred, leering at the children. "Sure to make fine wives... or finer playthings for proper men."

Jiang Heng moved before anyone could blink. One moment he was seated; the next he had Baratheon by the throat, lifting the larger man clear off the ground with terrifying ease. His face remained composed, but those Valyrian eyes burned with a fire that promised unspeakable violence.

"You look at my daughters again," Jiang Heng's voice was low, dangerous, and dripping with threat, "and I'll carve out those eyes and feed them to my dragons. Then I'll castrate you with a rusted spoon and send what's left to your wife as a gift."

The hall fell silent. Men paled. Women gasped. Jiang Heng held Baratheon suspended for several heartbeats longer, watching the life begin to fade from his eyes before casually dropping him to the floor.