"I will gladly sacrifice my life for your happiness."
“podrick…” Her voice is soft, a hand moving on top of his own as she sighs, eyes sadly stealing a glance at the stone floor at their feet. ‘he has been so kind’, thought she. Too kind perhaps. The glances he offered, the small smiles that were only meant for her—— she had seen them all, returning what little she could.
Lord Tyrion is not a bad husband, though she does not love him. she could never love him as man and wife were supposed to. Podrick was a friend, the closest she had to happiness in so many years. If they were caught, he would be killed. “I cannot allow it—” She answers, voice stern, head still low, for she cannot bare to look upon his face; to tell him what must be said and witness the distraught it might bring him. “I want you to leave.” Sansa goes on, words nervously shaking. She holds her breath before speaking again, knowing this could be their final conversation———— and what a pathetic one it was. this is her goodbye. "We used to talk about running away—— that is what you must to: to be safe. I cannot ask you to stay, they will kill you for this.”
