[ Her mouth still feels warm from him, a tickle of his closeness that lingers - a reprieve, and that's all it can be. One heavy second where she watches him and holds that - brightness that she did not expect, that appreciation she can handle even less. She expects what she always see, the cringe and the fear away from her.

But he bows, her head lifts as she looks down on him and she really ought to try to be something other than what she is, but she cannot, she knows, not anymore.

But it hides it as quickly as she gathers up lines of defence against it and he cuts to the quick as fast as Miles had - versed enough to know the cues. He's good. He can give him that, damn good. ]

I have already told you the truth of it, Byerly.

[ And with that oh so helpful, wonderful remark, she opens the gate to lead it away from him. Clear to her at least, that this conversation is over. ] Now if you'll excuse me, this horse needs to be saddled for her rider.