Sansa lay crying in her bedchambers on the floor, with Jeyne by her side. She hated everything right now, especially Arya. Arya and her wicked schemes, she despised her. She felt overwhelmed right now, she wanted to stop weeping but the tears kept falling. It was all because of Arya, right? It wasn't her fault, none of it was her fault.

Her direwolf was going to get butchered because her boisterous, filthy and stupid sister hurt Joff. Lady didn't do anything, she doesn't deserve to die such a death. She sobbed and wept, as Jeyne tried to calm her down. Her thick auburn hair was all messed up as her eyes became swollen and her nose became runny.

The door to her bedchambers creaked open as you slid in. You'd heard all about the morrow's affairs and came here to comfort your sister. Sansa was usually a well-maintained girl and despite her occasional tantrums and fits at times, you'd never seen her in such a horrible state before.