Inside the Imperial Prison, every corridor blazed with torchlight.
The two hired thugs were bound tightly to wooden pillars, trembling so violently their legs could barely support them. Their terrified eyes darted around the chamber toward the torture instruments hanging nearby, each one stained with dark reddish-brown traces that no amount of scrubbing had ever fully erased.
Rhaegar sat across from them, lazily twirling a blade in his right hand.
Slowly, methodically, he wiped it clean with a cloth.
Without saying a single word. He simply continued wiping the knife in silence.
Again.
And again.
The silence itself became unbearable torture.
At last, one of the thugs finally collapsed. "My lord! My lord, I'll talk! I'll tell you everything!"
Only then did Rhaegar slowly lift his eyes.
The man burst into tears instantly.
