He's not selling her on not being a show-off with that comment about hunting under an aurora. (Vlast is cool, we get it.) She can't imagine it for herself, but if it keeps him happy, glory to him and all that.

There's a quiet moment, between the hopping and the sudden warmth, where he approaches as she studies a painting that's faded with time. "Do those look like deer - oh."

The heavy cloak brings up the temperature by at least a twofold, and startles a laugh out of her. "So are a Rifer's wages," she points out in jest. Then, pause. "How is the inside of this so soft?"