"I understand. I am deeply grateful, Your Grace." Jaime closed his eyes, his chest rising and falling several times.
When he opened them again, something in those green eyes had shattered, as though he had finally shrugged a mountain off his shoulders...
He slowly straightened. At that moment, Jaime looked more... handsome than ever.
"Please allow me to take my leave."
Jaime bowed solemnly. Ever since he had come to the Edge of the World... every debt he owed had visited him each night, asking again and again: Have you paid it back?
At first, he had jolted awake. Later, he had learned to fall asleep to their murmurs, treating them as an endless song.
But he had never forgotten-a Lannister always paid his debts.
Gryn raised his eyebrows, his gaze lingering on Jaime's face for a moment. "Eat more meat."
"Ha! As you command."
Jaime gave a rare, broad laugh, showing his teeth, then took two steps back before turning and striding away.
After another full night of bitter fighting, Gryn narrowed his eyes as he watched the army of wights recede like the tide... This defensive battle left them far too passive. Each fight was monotonous, yet demanded their utmost effort. Countless times, he had felt the urge to try taking the offensive, only to suppress it with reason. Now, once again, that thought rose within him...
"Your Grace."
It was Arianne Nymeros Martell.
She wore a thick white cloak with a fur collar. The grief and hatred mingling on her face were impossible to conceal-the deaths of the Sand Snakes still cut deeply into the heir to Dorne.
Gryn looked the delicate, flowerlike beauty up and down and called her name. "Arianne."
She stopped before him and gave him a broad smile. "Thank you for your efforts.