He hadn't paid attention to the mess that he left Viserys in, a part of him too ashamed to look and the other fascinated by the sight of Rhaegar Targaryen. He was a specter, a shadow no different than the ones that had been following Jon from the beginning. Perhaps it was because of Rhaegar's connection to his family and the near mythic and monstrous quality that had always been spoken of when the subject of him was raised. Regardless of the reason, Jon could almost feel the acknowledgement and equal fascination that Rhaegar held towards him.

"They're not real." Jon murmured, trying to reassure himself. It was only in that moment of fear that he looked away and saw the heap he left Viserys in. There was blood, just as there had been with Ramsay. Those near pale features were obscured by bruises and a potential broken nose. Daenerys won't be pleased, he mused to himself.

The fallen prince spit something from his mouth (a tooth?) and let it spill onto the ground. The gleam of gold winked up at him, giving him a measure of surprise and amusement. The man could make gold? It almost made him want to laugh. Baelish would appreciate that.

"Get up." He near growled, glancing back once more to Rhaegar. "Take your shadows and leave."