Two days passed by in a flash.
Tension between Amon and his brother peaked as Rhaenyra hid in her room.
Otto and Alicent silently watched as the two brothers conversed.
"The Tourney is today, brother..." Viserys spoke. The ordeal a few days ago weakened him significantly.
First, having to tell the grieving family of Ser Harrold, the westerlings were furious at this. The head of the house, Roland Westerling, shouted profanities when the raven reached him and sent a reply cursing Amon.
Viserys read the reply and only let out a low sigh; the second was his idiotic daughter lying. That caused problems of its own, which would be addressed later.
The stress from his brother's arrival, his daughter's fight with his brother's wife and the death of Ser Harrold pressed heavily upon the king.
Alicent sat near Viserys quietly toiling with his hand as she spoke to her brother-in-law.
"Amon."
"Be quiet," Amon responded. His attitude was still cold from the way his niece attacked his wife and the way his brother scurried the lines between practically deserting him for two days.
"Lords from all over the realm have come to the celebration. Both for Rheanyra's name day and your return," Alicent pushed through the deadly stares of Amon as with another of her hands, she picked at her nails.
Silence held thick within the throne room as Otto stood silently, along with some members of the king's guards.
"Very well, what time?"
Amon spoke as his anger disappeared. Viserys purked up at his brother's seeming forgiveness and began speaking.
"2 no 3 o'clock this afternoon."
A smile began to form on Viserys face as he finally gathered the courage to look at his eldest brother, only to see a less pissed face in return.
"I'll meet you at the Tourney then," Amon responded as he turned on his heel and began walking. The king's guards all let out a collective sigh; they had seen what Prince Amon did to Ser Harrold and the now-injured Cole.
And that terrified them.
Amon, walking among the passages of the Red Keep, kept a stable pace as Servents and guards alike parted like Noah and the sea.
Speed walking up the stares Amon suddenly stopped as he felt he was being watched. Within the spirial staircases of the Red Keep, Amon turned suddenly and pressed himself against the wall as it was pushed back.
With a slight tug, the wall moved as Amon stepped through. The contrast between the well-lit by the sun staircase and the pitch-black hidden passage was very evident as Amon began walking at a brisk pace.
Behind him, a figure followed as she silently stepped through the passage door, which closed.
The woman stayed silent as she followed the faint outline of Amon through the ever-changing landscape of walls and corridors within the Red Keep itself.
Amon stopped as he suddenly turned and raised his arm, as he pulled a unlit torch.
Suddenly, the once pitch-black passage lit up like da,y startling the woman as she positioned herself with a blade smoothly being pulled from her arm.
"Well, if it isnt a assasin of the White and Black," Amon spoke in High Valyrian as he watched the assassin.
"If you know who I'am then you must know what i Must do." The woman spoke as she moved to swing her blade.
Amon dodged as the air itself was cut. The woman expecting this did a kickflip hurridly handing two hits against Amon.
Amon Simple stood there as he watched the woman perform a myriad of acrobatics with the blade.
He was so mesmoreised infact that he missed as the woman swept low and rose with the blade in both hands, aiming for his chest.
The blade met with fine fabric as it tore through, and the feeling of warm blood began spilling from the blade onto her hands.
Amon let out a faint rush of air as the steel of the blade pierced his skin.
"Valar Morghulis"
The woman spoke as she twisted the blade and pulled backwards. Blood gushed from the wound as Amon's clothes were drenched in blood.
The woman finally raised her eyes only to see, not the dying look on a man, but a smiling look of a beast upon prey.
"Ānogar ñuho ānogār"
Amon spoke in a deathly tone as the woman collapsed. Her eyes swayed as her strength left her.
Then came a horrific scream, a mix of a dragon's hiss and a harpy's shriek emanated from within the claustrophobic space as the woman's body began to convulse.
"Do you think you're the first to try and kill me?" Amon spoke as he quietly wiped the blood from his drenched hands and looked at the woman on the floor.
"Remember, faceless, the Valyrians were blood sorcerers. Did you think that was just a myth?"
At that, the woman began to arch her back as she roared a pain and agony-filled scream. Amon quietly picked up the blade that was used against him and slit the woman's wrists. From one side to another, he stood as he spoke in the same guttural High Valyrian.
"Inkots iōrās"
At that, blood began rushing from the woman's wrists, and blood formed literal spirals as they merged into one giant beam. The woman's eyes went pale and wide as she watched her blood leave her body.
The blood began to form a puddle within the air, and her body turned shrivelled as every inch of her blood was removed. The puddle expanded before forming into a ball and compressing itself.
Amon watched silently, blood still pouring from his chest wound as the ball of blood turned into a marble.
He then extended his hand, and the marble felt smooth and round as he placed it on his tongue.
The woman with her inhuman body, with every inch of blood removed, looked in horror as Amon spoke a final set of words.
"Ñuho esy"
With that, the woman let out a heart renching screach as her body began dissolving into dust. Amon watched still with the condensed blood on his tongue before he swallowed it whole.
The wound on his chest, once pouring stopped as the blood pooling on the floor and between his legs began dephying physics.
Blood returned, every inch, every drop stopped moving and began migrating back towards Amon's wound.
With his hands, Amon opened his torn fabric for clothes and watched as the blood seeped back into the wound before his skin began stitching itself together.
The sound of flesh moving and the subtly emanating power of what he did echoed within the Red keeps walls as Amon looked at the assassin's knife and continued walking.
Leaving nothing, with another raise of his arm, the lights turned dark and the same passage returned to its natural state. Only this time with more dust.