When Eddard Stark appeared after getting dressed, only Melisandre was inside the tent. Ser Rodrik Harlaw and Devan, the squire, stood guard outside the entrance.
With Ser Cayn's support, Lord Eddard slowly sat down.
Melisandre stepped before him and said softly, "You need rest, Duke of Winterfell."
Lord Eddard's face was pale. "Winter is Coming."
He watched Melisandre with slightly dim gray eyes for a while, then said hoarsely, "The North Remembers."
"Give thanks to the great Lord of Light. I am merely a servant carrying out His commands."
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As she spoke, Melisandre's lips curved faintly. "Of course, I also understand the stubbornness of the descendants of the First Men. There is no need to thank me. Everything I do is for the great cause of the true god."
"The First Men..."
Muttering the words, Lord Eddard tugged at the corner of his mouth as if mocking himself. "The descendants of the First Men can be rather stubborn."
After a brief pause, he suddenly looked straight at her. "Lady Melisandre, are you Gryn's person?"
Melisandre raised her brows slightly in surprise.
As if recalling something, she chuckled. "I have met him only three times, yet he was wary of me every single time."
"Gryn is an excellent hunter. It is his habit."
Lord Eddard rubbed his chest, which twinged with pain from time to time. "So, you are not Gryn's person."
Then, seated in thought, he said, "Cayn, please leave us alone."
As Ser Cayn departed, Melisandre stepped closer to Lord Eddard. "The night is dark and full of terrors. The Lord of Light brought you back for a reason."
Her hand settled on Lord Eddard's arm.