Rhaegar's own children were far more Dornish than they were Valyrian, though Jaime would argue that was only in their coloring. Little Rhaenys had her father's regal facial features, sharply prominent even as a toddler. (He remembers, too, Aerys dismissing the little girl for being too Dornish, claiming he could 'smell' it on her. Holding a grudge against both Rhaegar for not producing silver-haired children and his sister-wife for not birthing a daughter for Rhaegar to wed.)

"Pity I what?"

It takes him a moment to understand, and once he does, he's practically rambling as he tries to catch up with the underlying meaning(s) of the Rogue Prince's words.

"Brienne is a friend at best, to insinuate that I would— That I—" He can't even deny it, so he shifts gears: "If I wanted to, my vows would not be a problem, as I was released from them not long ago. A white cloak no longer sits on my shoulders. A one-handed man who was seen as both useless and a threat to high climbing Tyrells was done away with first chance they got to whisper in a young, impressionable king's ear."

Jaime's own son. Dismissed from the Kingsguard he'd devoted his life to, sacrificed his youth and innocence to, by his own godsdamned son.