After lunch, Perrin, who had come back from his lengthy horse inspection with the diplomatic tact of someone fully aware of his task, organised the scene.
Vivienne then rose, gazed at the northern hills, and appeared to have made a decision.
"I want to walk," she said.
"To the hills?" Grey asked.
"The view from the ridge is good," she said. "I remember it."
Grey stood up. "How long a walk."
"An hour," she said. "Each way."
He looked down at his boots, then surveyed the hills. His gaze then shifted to Vivienne, who was already waiting, having decided he was coming and just waiting for him to realise it.
"Lead the way," he said.
The walk up was initially easy, similar to how hill walks often feel for the first twenty minutes before gradually becoming more challenging.
Grey maintained his pace effortlessly having his agility at 10 it was a rather easy walk for him, while Vivienne ascended with calm confidence, as if completely at ease with herself.
They didn't converse much during the ascent, as the hill didn't necessitate conversation.
They moved through the steeper parts in a comfortable silence that, over six weeks, had become one of Grey's favourite aspects of her company, the complete lack of pressure to fill the silence with chatter.
The ridge, when they reached it, was worth the climb.
The meadow stretched out beneath them, with Silverfield's green bowl shimmering in the afternoon sun.
Their small camp was a tidy cluster of shapes near the river.
Around them, the hills extended in gentle, long lines in all directions, while the sky overhead was a rich, deep blue that could only be seen at high altitude.
Grey stood at the edge of the ridge and looked at it.
"You remembered correctly," he said. Again.
"I told you," she said.
She stood beside him, close enough that the wind played with her loosely braided hair, which she didn't bother to fix.
She gazed at the view, but her gaze was thoughtful, as if she was also lost in her own thoughts.
"Can I ask you something," she said.
Grey looked at her sideways. "That's my line."
"You don't own it," she said.
"Fair. Ask."
She paused briefly. Below, the meadow lay in simple beauty, offering no assistance.
"Do you find this odd," she said. "Us. This setup. The speed of everything."
Grey considered how to respond truthfully. "Initially," he replied.
"And now?"
He looked at the view, the camp below, the mornings, dinners, and library evenings all compressed into the reality of being here on a ridge.
Apparently, she had walked uphill for an hour because she wanted to show him something she remembered from when she was twelve.
"Less," he said.
Vivienne nodded slowly, remaining silent for a moment longer.
"I know I'm—" she started, and stopped. Started again, more carefully. "I know that I am not easy to be around. For most people."
Grey examined her carefully. She remained facing the view, a deliberate choice by someone who was speaking an honest truth and preferred not to pretend otherwise.
"Who told you that," he said.
"No one had to," she said. "I've observed it."
Grey considered how the aura in rooms changed when she entered.
The cautious social distance others kept, the formality that never truly relaxed.
She also thought about how Caelan Voss described 'intimidating' with the cheerful conviction of a shared opinion.
"People find you intimidating," he said. "That's not the same thing."
She glanced at him. "Isn't it."
"No," he said. "Intimidating means they don't know what to do with you. It doesn't mean you're difficult to be around." He paused. "You're very easy to be around. You just require people to be honest, and most people find that uncomfortable."
Vivienne looked at him steadily for a long moment, with an expression he couldn't quite identify and hadn't seen since they were married. It was open, perhaps, like a window that has just been lifted by a latch.
"You don't," she said. "Find it uncomfortable."
"No," he said.
The wind gusted through the grass on the ridge, while below, Silverfield sat with its serene indifference.
Vivienne looked forward again, but there was a change in her expression, more calming and definite, as if she had made a decision rather than asking a question.
"Good," she said quietly.
In his peripheral vision the system appeared.
---
≡ QUEST UPDATE ≡
[ Know Her. ]
Progress: Meaningful.
Note: She just told you something she doesn't tell people.
Note: You answered correctly.
Note: Grey. Buddy. We're rooting for you.
Difficulty: You know what it is.
---
Grey closed it before it could say anything else.
They lingered on the ridge, observing the afternoon's beautiful display over Silverfield.
Grey reflected on final bosses, war arcs, and the meticulous structure of a story that initially didn't assume he would survive long enough to walk uphill with anyone.
Then he stopped thinking about it and just looked at the view.
It was a very good view.