Snow, misinterpreting the gesture, thought Aegon meant to fight and raised his guard—
but the prince simply flexed his hand, which Frey had nearly crushed to bone.
"Easy there, Frey. Not all of us are monsters like you," Aegon laughed lightly, waving his injured arm. At last, he addressed their accusations.
"To be honest, your conclusion is correct… but also wrong. Let's say you've got fifty percent of it right."
Frey stayed silent, his eyes locked onto the prince, while Snow scowled.
"What are you saying, Aegon? Don't deny that filth on your arm is a demonic contract!"
"I'm not denying it. I'm saying you've only uncovered part of the truth. If I were truly a demonic contractor, Frey would have already struck me down."
Snow realized the point.
Frey hadn't attacked. Not yet.
The prince quickly pressed on, aware of how precarious his position had become.
