[ A line writes itself between her brows, squinting against the mountain wind, the sun glare off the bright screen. Her expression is one of thought, even as he speaks, attempting to divine the path that led them to this peculiar moment, and where it would lead from there--

She remembers, a little, Jon's copy gripping her wrist, demanding her respect. It's a thought she could almost shake her head to remove, but unsettling as it is-- ]

My trust is important to you. [ Observational, but not coldly. ] My respect is important to you. What trust I am capable of giving, what respect can be so quickly earned, these things you had from me.

And you did lose them, but understand that it is because your actions demonstrated a lack of trust in me. And a lack of respect.

[ Now she shakes her head, a shiver of fly away silver strands. She offers a smile, then, a small one. ]

You once told me that only a fool would test my temper.