Her mother had told her she would be ignored this Betrothal Games, that she and her siblings were free to enjoy themselves watching the games and catching up with friends. But you must try not to make the boys your age look foolish. Remember it is but four years till you are to betrothed, you would not want to slight your future husband. Sansa knew already who she would marry and he is no highlord or prince, she had seen him just this morning in the training yard. A full grown man of twenty years she guessed, the tallest man she had ever seen, strong wide shoulders, black hair and grey eyes and a monstrous scar covering half his face. He was the scariest thing she had ever seen. But despite her being still a girl, watching him swing his longsword and defeat man after man had warmed her stomach. Listening to him laughing and joking and sharing pointers with her northern men by the water trough, had brought such a wide smile to her face Arya had smacked her along the back of her head so that she cried out and everyman it seemed stopped to look at them. She had blushed so furiously and laughed so hard as a result she couldn't move and it had been Arya to take her hand and lead her back to their tents. Gods how she just knew he had to be hers, she felt she'd die otherwise.