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A FEW days had passed since the feast, the tension between Maelys and Cregan easing into a tentative silence. Their interactions remained formal, though the sharpness in Cregan's demeanor had dulled somewhat. The early morning air was crisp as Maelys stood near the stables, her breath visible in the cold, waiting for Cregan. He had invited her to ride that day, something unexpected, and she wasn't quite sure what to make of it.
When Cregan approached, he was already saddling his horse, a powerful black stallion with a coat that glistened in the thin northern sunlight. His expression, as always, was guarded, but there was something different in his eyes, a glint of unspoken intention.
"I thought you might like to see more of Winterfell," he said, his voice calm yet distant. "There's more to the North than stone walls and snow."
Maelys nodded, grateful for the offer. She mounted her horse, her fingers gripping the reins tightly as they set off, riding through the courtyard and out past the gates of Winterfell. The landscape unfolded before them—a vast expanse of white, the snow covering the land like a thick blanket, untouched and pure. The towering trees of the Wolfswood stood in the distance, dark and foreboding, their branches laden with frost.
They rode in silence for a time, the only sound the rhythmic thud of hooves against the frozen earth. The cold air bit at Maelys' cheeks, but she found it invigorating, a welcome change from the stifling confinement of her chambers.
After a while, Cregan slowed his horse, bringing it to a halt near a small, frozen lake. The water's surface was smooth, a mirror of ice reflecting the pale sky above. He dismounted, and after a moment, Maelys followed, though her heart pounded in her chest, uncertain of what to say or do next.
Cregan stood at the edge of the lake, his eyes scanning the horizon, his face unreadable. Maelys stepped up beside him, the silence between them growing heavier with each passing second.
"It's... beautiful," she said, her voice quiet, unsure if she was breaking the quiet peace they had found in the moment.
Cregan glanced at her, his eyes softening ever so slightly. "It is," he replied, though his tone lacked the usual cold edge. "The North may seem harsh, but it has its moments of beauty. If you look closely."
Maelys looked up at him, sensing the shift in his mood. "I've seen that," she admitted, the vulnerability in her voice surprising even herself. "I've been so focused on how different everything is here that I forgot to really see it for what it is."
Cregan remained quiet, his gaze drifting back to the horizon. After a few moments, he spoke again, though his words were measured and careful. "I know this place is not easy for someone like you. I'm aware of how far removed it is from the life you knew in King's Landing."
"It's more than that," Maelys said softly, surprised by how freely the words came. "It's not just the cold or the isolation. It's... feeling out of place. Like I don't belong here."
