"A forge is no place to be twirling about, Arya."
She’s sure Sansa is right, somewhere in her mind. Yet, Arya can’t find herself caring. “Why shouldn’t I be twirling? I had to look at him, see his reaction to what I said.” I used to be in love with him. Gods, am I still? She bit at her lip, before shrugging. “How’d you know about that anyway? Got little spies, have you?”
“I might just go twirl some more in the forge if it seems to annoy you so much. I’m sure Ge- no one would complain.”













