Viserys took half a step forward and stopped before Asha, the Blackfyre Sword still hanging at his side, its point aimed at the ground. He made no move to raise it.
He continued, "You've already lost, Asha. Your axe is lying to your left. You can pick it up again right now. I won't stop you."
After hearing him out, Asha suddenly smiled. But with her dry, cracked lips stretched apart, she hardly looked amused. The faint smile never reached her eyes. It was like a shard of ice floating on her face, only making her seem colder.
She braced her knees against the ground and slowly pushed herself up, raising her body a few inches. But just as she tried to put weight on her right leg, a violent tremor shot up from her calf, as though something inside had drained all her strength at once. Her barely raised body crashed back down.
She did not reach for the axe or try to stand again. She only kept her eyes locked on Viserys's unreadable face, her gaze refusing to soften in the slightest.
"Do it. You should kill me right now." Her voice sounded as though it had been scraped raw by gravel. "Otherwise, when I pick up my weapon, I won't last just two exchanges like I did this time. I'll kill every one of you."
Asha looked up as Viserys drew closer, her blue pupils involuntarily contracting. But she neither backed away nor reached for the Hand Axe at her feet. She simply stared blankly as he walked up to her.
"Do you have any last words?" Viserys suddenly asked. His voice was quiet, yet it cut straight through the oppressive tension around them.
Asha fell silent for a moment. She parted her lips, but no sound