The walk back to Winterfell was quiet, but Jocelyn's mind was anything but. The clearing, the frozen pond, the cider—all of it had felt like a dream, a brief moment of peace in the midst of the storm that had become her life. And Jon… Jon had given her that peace.

She pulled her scarf up as they neared the castle, her breath warming the fabric. The weight of secrecy settled over her again as she and Jon slipped through the back gate. No one paid them any attention, just another Stark bastard and a hooded servant moving through the morning chill.

Inside the castle, Jon led her through the quieter hallways, avoiding the more populated corridors where the household bustled with daily activity. When they reached her chambers in the south wing, he stopped outside the door, his posture relaxed but his eyes sharp.

"No one saw us," he said, mostly to reassure her.

Jocelyn pulled her hood down, exhaling slowly. "That was… the first time I've felt like myself in weeks."

Jon's gaze lingered on her, his expression unreadable. "I'm glad."

She hesitated, then reached for his hand without thinking, her fingers brushing against his gloved palm. "Jon, I—"

Before she could finish, a soft cough echoed down the hallway. They both turned to find Mira standing there, holding a folded cloth in her hands. Her eyes flicked between them, sharp but not unkind.

"My lady," Mira said, stepping forward. "Your bath is ready."

Jocelyn released Jon's hand quickly, her face warming. "Thank you, Mira."

Jon stepped back, clearing his throat. "I'll check on you later."

Jocelyn nodded, watching as he turned and disappeared down the hallway. The warmth of his presence lingered long after he was gone.

Mira, ever observant, raised an eyebrow as she opened the door for Jocelyn. "That was… an interesting sight."

Jocelyn sighed, stepping into the room. "Mira."

"What?" Mira said innocently, closing the door behind them. "I just think it's fascinating how you and Lord Stark's bastard seem to find yourselves in quiet corners together."

Jocelyn unfastened her cloak, ignoring the way her heart pounded. "He's been kind to me. That's all."

Mira smirked. "Of course."

Jocelyn sighed, sitting on the edge of her bed. "Even if there was something more, it wouldn't matter. I can't afford feelings, Mira. Not when my father and Jaime Lannister are still watching Winterfell."

Mira's teasing expression softened. "I know. But for what it's worth, my lady, kindness like his is rare. Especially from a man like Jon Snow."

Jocelyn looked down at her hands, the memory of Jon's warm touch still lingering. "I know."

Mira set a fresh dress on the bed. "Come now. A warm bath will do you good. You can't hide in the shadows forever."

Jocelyn sighed, standing and moving toward the washroom. "No," she murmured. "I suppose I can't."

But as she sank into the steaming water, her mind wasn't on the risks ahead—it was on the quiet of the clearing, the warmth of mulled cider, and the way Jon Snow had looked at her as if she were more than a secret hidden away.

As if she were someone worth fighting for.