Chapter Eight

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A little later in the day, Anari sat with Sansa and Septa Mordane. They were having a light lunch in one of the rooms that allowed for the sunlight to cast its warm rays into the open space. After her vigorous lesson with Syrio, Anari had stopped at her chambers to freshen up before daring to be seen by Mordane.

She even quickly rebraided her hair to ensure that she was more than presentable. Anari wore a pale grey dress with soft lavender embroidery donning the hem and the sleeves. Thankfully, it was a front laced gown, so she didn't have to call upon Mordane to help her fix it. No doubt, that would cause questions to arise, as it shouldn't be necessary to relace the ties.

Anari wore Robb's pendant around her neck, the direwolf being the only jewelry she wore. Anari had sent her brother a letter a few days ago but found it odd not to receive a letter in return. Though, Anari put it off to the fact that it was probably because Robb had his hands full, being the presiding Lord of Winterfell in their father's absence.

Glancing at her sister, Anari could see that Sansa was still hurt. No doubt the death of Lady still weighed heavily in her heart. Shadow's death plagued Anari's as well, as she knew her wolf, as well as Lady, deserved better. To be slaughtered for a crime they didn't commit, for an incident they had no part in.

While Shadow had been by Anari's side, the wolf had done nothing more than growl and wait obediently for an order. Though, Anari also had an inkling Sansa's mood was affected by the fact that Joffrey had been actively ignoring her.

As much as Anari wanted to tell her sister that she shouldn't concern herself with his opinions or thoughts on her, Anari knew that Sansa would not heed her advice. Sansa, while the third oldest, was still just a girl. She was a dreamer, and she dreamt of marrying Joffrey.

However, ever since the attack and the trial, Joffrey wanted nothing to do with her. While Anari hated seeing her sister upset, she hoped that Sansa would pull through soon. With everything going on, Anari couldn't help but wonder if this was a blessing in disguise.

It would be for Sansa's own good that she not marry Joffrey, considering there was a very real chance that they may be at war with the Lannisters. Not to mention, Anari held Joffrey no good favors.

He was a coward and a vicious little monster. If Anari had it her way, she'd have taught that boy a few manners. Certainly, his mother did nothing but encourage his horrid behavior and allow him to do whatever he wanted. Sansa glanced at Anari, seeing that her older sister was already looking at her.

Anari offered a half-smile, one Sansa accepted with a small nod. Anari exhaled through her nose softly before looking down at her plate. "You wear your hair like a real southern lady now," The Septa interrupted the silence that had ensued over the three of them.

"Well, why shouldn't I? We're in the south," Sansa replied, her tone indifferent. It was true, she had begun to style her hair differently, in the hopes of catching Joffrey's attention and hopefully regain his favor.

"It's important to remember where you come from," Mordane advised, glancing at Anari who still wore her hair the same as she always did. The front tendrils neatly braided behind her head while the rest of her red hair fell in soft, natural waves. "Like Anari, she's here in the South, but she still wears her hair the same. I'm not sure your mother would like these new styles."

"My mother isn't from the North," Sansa replied, growing irritated. "And Anari only wears her hair like that because it stays out of her face if she had it her way I bet she'd have it cut down to her ears."

"I'm aware of that," The Septa said calmly. "And what Anari does with her hair is her choice."

"Good, then it's my choice too," Sansa replied hotly. "Why do you care? Do you even have hair under there?"

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