Another gust of cold wind swept past them, tousling Gryn's black hair and lifting Stannis's cloak, revealing his lean, erect frame.
Stannis's sudden change did not stir the slightest ripple in Gryn. He merely paused briefly before slowly speaking. "That's right. I once thought your end would be made into songs by bards and sung throughout the Seven Kingdoms."
He raised a hand in a slight shrug. "In the past, though most nobles disliked you, I always believed you were one of the rare just men in the Seven Kingdoms—a good lord who let the people of his lands sleep in peace."
Stannis's jaw moved soundlessly several times, as if chewing something to pieces. The white mist of his breath dispersed swiftly.
Only then did he force out a cold voice. "I have never cared about other people's eyes or mouths. What I have always guarded is the law, and the justice of the law."
His brown eyes shifted slightly. Gryn's gaze swept over the snow-laden branches in the distance before he paused and said, "But by the sacred laws of the Seven Kingdoms, Stannis, your crimes have long been beyond pardon."
Stannis turned his deep gaze toward him. Though his face was haggard and he stood at the end of the road, his blue eyes remained bright, like twin sparks that had not gone out in a frigid night.
The hard corner of his mouth tugged into another faint curve, as though mocking him—or seeking confirmation. "If I heard correctly, you seem to be... regretting this for my sake?"
Meeting Stannis's gaze, Gryn nodded calmly. "You committed kinslaying and renounced the Faith of the Seven. Those are indeed crimes that cannot be erased, but... if... you had not later assassinated the Duke of Winterfell, I had originally planned to