Viserys knew all too well that if the being before him truly intended to kill him, there was no telling whether he would leave Winterfell's Crypt in one piece today.
After a long while, she slowly exhaled a breath of white mist. The moment it left her lips, it condensed into tiny ice crystals that pattered onto the Crypt's floor tiles, adding another cold layer to the thin frost already coating them.
Then she slowly turned her face, flecked with ice yet strangely alluring, and fixed her blue eyes on Viserys. Colder than the ice caves of the North, they held not a trace of emotion.
The cold air around them pressed toward Viserys in an instant, as though it meant to freeze the marrow in his bones. Unfortunately for her, he barely felt it.
The torches along both sides of the Crypt, however, began to freeze and go out one after another. The few flames remaining in the distance trembled, stretching the female Other's indistinct shadow long and thin across the stone statues of the Stark ancestors, lending them an indescribably eerie air.
Viserys's throat bobbed slightly. His wrist tensed around the sword's hilt as he quietly poured more than half his magic into Blackfyre's blade.
As the Valyrian steel sword met the dragonblood magic of House Targaryen within Viserys, a strange, distinctive glow suddenly rose along its edge. The scorching power unique to Blood Magic spread down the blade, instantly dispersing the cold within half a foot of them.
"Who are you? Are you the female Other a Lord Commander of the Night's Watch once brought back to the Wall? And do you serve the Night's King?" Viserys asked her in a low voice. He knew she could understand him. After all, even an ordinary Other should possess