Sansa could feel the tears running down her cheeks in rivulets as she clutched her ruined dress. The horrid brat that was her stupid sister had stolen her favorite dress and buried it in dung. How Sansa had screamed when she found her beloved dress.
When everyone had come running, Arya had at least possessed the good grace to looked shamefaced. Arya had been banished to her chamber for the remainder of the day. But Sansa thought she ought to be forced to stay in the godswood all day praying for forgiveness for the grave sin that she had committed.
To ruin such a splendid dress made of the finest silk. Sewn so painstakingly just for her. The very thought of it sent Sansa into a fresh bout of tears.
Her poor lady mother to have been forced to carry such a little monster for nine moons. A disgrace was what Arya was. She was no lady at all. She was dirty and smelly. And she surrounded herself with the most embarrassing people. Especially that dirty butcher's boy who always smelled of rotten meat.
Mother had said the dress would put any other to shame. Even those worn by proper southron ladies living in court. Mother would know. Born and raised in the south before she came to live at Winterfell.
How Sansa envied the fact that her lady mother had been able to experience the south and live there. A place that Sansa could only dream about and picture when she listened to the beautiful songs and thrilling stories. She loved to hear about gallant knights who fought so bravely as they saved fair maidens before falling in love and living happily ever after. Much different than the frightening stories told by Old Nan. And better too.
Only her dearest friend Jeyne Poole understood how awful it was to be stuck up here in the North. Surrounded by cold and snow. While the life that they were meant to live in the south passed them by.
"I would positively die if I can't visit the capital at least once!" Jeyne had expressed last night as Sansa nodded in approval and shared sorrow.
Sansa always asked her father when they would be able to go south but he never gave her a proper answer.
"The North, Sansa. The North is where you belong," he always replied.
I don't belong here, she would think, wrinkling up her nose.
Mother didn't either. Mother still kept to her southron ways and prayed to The Seven. Father even had a sept built for her so that she could worship her gods.
Sansa full heartedly embraced the seven gods. She prayed to the Mother Above everyday that a gallant knight would ride into Winterfell and sweep her away. It would be just like the songs. The sweetest one.