"I remember how terribly nervous I was at my fitting. I could hardly stand up straight. I so badly wanted everything to be perfect." Leonette said, sighing over her glass of wine, her head tilted to one side as she stared at Sansa in the looking glass.

"Was it?"

"As perfect as it could have been." Leonette sighed again, louder and more dramatic. "Oh, I so regret that we aren't able to give you a proper wedding. It just doesn't seem fair."

"If you had a hand in it, I'm more than sure it's going to be lovely. There's no need to worry."

Two women encircled Sansa as she stood on a small pedestal, and she tryed to keep her balance as they pinned and tucked the masterpiece that had been crafted for her. Her eyes were practically fixed to the long mirror before her, enraptured by the woman in the flowing white dress. If something like this could be managed in the short amount of time at hand, she had no doubt that the ceremony and following celebrations would be just as magnificent, even if not quite up to Highgarden standards.

The heat of the afternoon coupled with her growing nervousness had turned her face and chest a deep scarlet by the time the women reclaimed the dress, taking it away to make the last few adjustments needed. When only herself and Leonette remained, Sansa sat beside the woman on a chaise lounge, reaching for a cup of tea as she posed a question.

"How long had you known Garlan before you were wed?" Sansa asked, trying to affect nonchalance as she stirred the contents of her cup. She didn't want Leonette to think that she was having second thoughts, but she was curious. Leonette didn't seem to find anything strange about the question though and answered without hesitation.

"We had met a handful of times. Though, it wasn't until after the war began that the match was formally arranged. I dare say, the prospect of riding off to battle really puts things into perspective for some men. Still, it can all seem like it's moving a bit quickly, no?"

"Yes, it can." A few years her senior and soon to be family, Sansa could think of no one else to seek guidance from. "I'm ready, or rather, I think I am. It's just that I wish we had more time, for both of us, to know that we're making the right decision."

"What troubles you dear? Are you afraid you don't know Willas well enough?"

Sansa tilted her head. "A little yes, and I worry about what this will mean for him and all of you. He's taking on quite a lot in my name. I don't want him to regret it."

"Ha!" Leonette laughed loudly, placing a hand on her stomach. "Please, Sansa. He's enamored with you. It's written all over his face. I think he would walk through fire if it meant he could keep you safe. You're not at all what he expected, that much is obvious, but that's a good thing. Willas isn't an easy man to make an impression on."

Leonette wasn't wrong. Sansa had noticed the air of polite detachment with which he greeted most things, a stark contrast to the way his eyes would come alive when engaged with something or someone he found interesting. To be one of those people that could hold his attention was exhilarating and each moment Sansa spent with Willas made her want to stay there. This phenomenon made her feelings increasingly more difficult to navigate and she wasn't sure it was something she wanted to examine too closely.

"As for the rest of us..." Leonette began, reaching out a hand to squeeze Sansa's. "Before you came, the family discussed all the eventual possibilities, those of us here and those of us still in the Capitol. There were many coded letters, it was quite the affair, but as it turned out we all felt the same way. In fact, Margaery said you were already a sister in her eyes, and that you should be treated as such."

Sansa was more than touched, her eyes wet with tears, but the door opened behind them before she had a chance to say anything. The pair turned their heads in surprise as Calen strode into the room like a storm cloud, dark and ominous. By the way he moved and the agitated look on his face Sansa could tell that something was happening.

"I beg pardon, ladies." Calen said, checking around corners and behind the draperies. "A small force has entered Highgarden through the East Gate. Their location within the castle is still unknown, so lord Willas and lord Garlan request that you both stay here in your chamber until they've been found. I'll be outside with the rest of your guards should you require anything in the meantime."

Sansa stood and followed Calen back to the door, bolting it securely after the towering man made his exit. She walked to the edge of the room, discreetly observing the garden below through an open window. It seemed no different than the last time she had looked, but rather than seeing the beauty in the greenery, she saw all of the places a person could hide in a place like Highgarden.

"Oh, come now and sit down. There's no need to worry. I'll admit that it's a bit strange, but we're perfectly safe here. I'm sure the men will come find us as soon as the nasty business has been settled. Now, let me purge your head of worry, and fill it with something much more useful, gossip."

She did as she was bid and diligently listened to Leonette go on and on about the other people in Highgarden's court. This wasn't all together useless information, as Sansa knew no one or their current social standings, but she still found it rather dull. It did however succeed in distracting her enough from the current situation and after an hour or so she had nearly forgotten the threat of danger that loomed outside the walls of her chamber.

A few minutes later the world came rushing back when a knock rang out through the room, silencing Leonette mid sentence. The sound was loud and abrasive, nothing like Calen's soft wraps and it made her hair stand on end. Unsure of what she should do, Sansa began to rise but stopped at the sound of a second knock, much louder and intense than the first.

They waited in perfect stillness, listening intently until the knocking became constant and more violent. 'My god…' Sansa thought, her head miraculously clear. 'They're going to break the door down.' Leonette began to say something and Sansa shushed her fiercely, backing further away from the door. She pushed Leonette into the open armoire and shut the door before any protestations could be made, whispering a harsh 'Be quiet.'

The door began to crack and splinter as the wood finally gave way to the axe that pummeled it, sending wood splinters everywhere and creating a sizable hole. Sansa grabbed the closest thing to a weapon in the room and held it unsteadily in front of her as a meager means of defense.

The handle of the small cheese knife was sticky, but that was probably a good thing considering how much her palms were sweating. She gripped it tightly as the door gave way completely and someone stepped through.

In front of her stood a man of decent height and build, dressed head to toe in the same armor worn by the guardsmen of the castle, though she noticed immediately that the fit was completely wrong. She wondered where or off of whom he got said armor, but added it to the list of things to worry about later.

He took a step forward and Sansa brandished the small knife, holding the blade out with one trembling hand.

The man laughed, deep and booming, but there was malice in his voice when he spoke. "Good afternoon, milady. If you'll kindly put the knife down and come with me, I'll be escorting you home."

He dropped the axe, the metal clanking loudly on the stone floor and held his arms as though to grab her.

"I am home." She retorted smartly. "You're standing in my room. Where is my guard?"

"Indisposed, if it pleases, milady."

Sansa glanced around the man and it was as he said. Bodies lay motionless on the ground outside in the hall. Her stomach dropped a little further and she took a step back. "It most certainly does not. I don't think I'll be going anywhere."

This was clearly not what he wanted to hear. The half-smile he wore was gone the moment the words left her lips and he lunged for her but she backed up in time, making him miss her by mere inches. She grabbed wildly with her left hand until she found something heavy and with her eyes closed smashed what turned out to be a stone picture, over his head.

Or, what she thought was his head. Unfortunately she missed his head almost entirely and the blow hand landed mostly on his shoulder, striking a glancing hit just hard enough to shatter the pitcher. This seemed to have little effect other than to irritate him further and he stood up straight as she backed away, his hand was on his sword.

He took one step, then another, the sword leaving its sheath.

Sansa took a breath, mustering all her willpower but just as she made to run, the man stopped. Blood sprayed from his neck as a look of confusion spread over his face, his knees giving way beneath him. She saw the life leave his eyes before he hit the ground and Sansa took several hastey steps back until she felt the safety of the wall behind her. As though he'd appeared out of nowhere, Willas above the man's body, a fierce look in his eye and bloody blade in hand. She wondered from some remote place where his cane was, only to realize the blade was the cane. It was split into two pieces, a dagger and its sheath. He wiped the blood from the blade on the side of his pants and sheathed it, his cane complete once more. He looked wildly around the room to make sure there were no other assailants and then stepped over the dying man's body towards her.

"Are you alright, Sansa?" He took one look at the knife in her hand and the blood on her face, his face falling even further.

"I think so…"

"Gods, I'm so sorry. He never should have made it this far."

Her heart was beating quickly but she felt an odd detached calm, boarding on numbness. She dropped the knife and moved into his arms that encircled her at once. "It's not your fault." She whispered, her head resting against his chest.

"Is it not my duty to protect you?"

The room was quickly filled with guards and people, among them Garlan, who found and took a shaken Leonette into his arms. Shocked as Sansa was herself she'd nearly forgotten about the girl in the armoire and giggled ridiculously. Willas looked down at her curiously and she giggled even more, her hand over her mouth as she tried to stop.

"Would you like to share what is so funny?"

Sansa took a deep breath and whispered confidentially. "I forgot I put Leonette in the armoire." Willas' chest rumbled underneath her head and he squeezed her tightly before letting go.

"Come on, let's get you cleaned up."

An hour later Sansa was freshly bathed, fed, and nearly content as she sat next to Leonette in a small room off the side of the council chamber. Leonette was in a similar state and they leaned companionably on pillows and listened to the argument that was taking place on the other side of the door. While there was a convenient lack of corroborating evidence, it was clear where the attack had come from and what its goal had been. Less clear was any viable means of retaliation, which accounted for the voices raised in disagreement. Garlan was furious and hellbent on dissolving their alliance and declaring open war on the Lannisters, while Willas did his best to use logic and reasoning to placate his brother.

There seemed to be no hard feelings harbored toward herself, something Sansa was eternally grateful for. In fact, Garlan had seemed to take the entire incident as a grievous insult to himself, her, Willas, and the entire family. And while Sansa appreciated the sentiment, she knew it was far more complicated than that.

"For god's sake, she's going to be your wife. What if she had been killed, or worse, taken back to the Capitol? You have a responsibility towards her-"

"You've no need to remind me of my responsibilities to Sansa. I know very well what could have happened today and how fortunate we are that it did not. So, again I ask you brother, what would you have us do?"

"We get our family out of there!"

"Our sister is meant to marry the King and nearly half our forces are with the Lannister's. The moment our people begin to withdraw our intent will become clear and they'll kill them all before they can make it to the Reach."

The arguing went on and Leonette sighed in exhausted annoyance. "We may as well go to bed dear. They're liable to go on like that for hours." The blonde rose and offered Sansa a hand. "Would you mind terribly if I slept in your chamber tonight? Garlan will be too worked up for sleep and after the day we've had, I dare say I'll have trouble sleeping in an empty room. After all, you have Winter to stand guard against any intruders."

Sansa laughed a little and smiled. "We'll be glad to have the company."

Though slightly reluctant to end the night without another word to Willas, she was very tired and preferred not to sleep on a small chair. Her original chamber in disarray and without a door, Sansa's things had been moved to another room closer to the rest of the family. Escorted there by more men than she cared to count, the two women found an already sleeping Winter on the bed and quickly followed his example, crawling into bed on either side of him.

"This was an act of war!'

'I don't disagree with you, but we can't risk breaking this alliance. Not now. You know this." Willas felt the urge to remind his brother that it had been Sansa the men were after and not his lady wife, but he refrained from doing so. "It will take time for word of this to spread, time they do not have."

Or, so he hoped. They were prepared for second or third attempts set in place should the first fail, but all had been quiet since the last man was found and slain. The other two would remain in cells beneath Highgarden until a time came when it would be more appropriate to deal with them and so long as they were within the prisons they were of little consequence.

"Yes, let us not forget our dear sister's wedding." Garlan said, more than a little malice in his voice. "They've already begun preparing for the journey back to the Capitol. The only thing that remains is your answer, brother. You'll really support this travesty of a wedding? You will let our sister marry that monster? After everything we've heard about him?"

"We all came to an agreement, Garlan." Willas said pointedly. "Including you."

Garlan stood up and threw his hands in the air. "Oh yes, I forgot. The agreement. Well, far be it from me to break one of grandmother's precious agreements."

Willas sighed, unable to fight for a moment longer, and rose from his chair, bidding his brother abruptly goodnight. Garlan, his blood still high, started to speak, but Willas kept walking and shut the door behind him.

He wouldn't lie and say he wasn't a little disappointed to find the adjoining room empty, but when he looked at the hour candle on the mantle, he wasn't surprised. His father had abandoned them to their arguing some time ago, no wonder the girls had as well.

With a pang of regret he thought of Sansa and had the sudden urge to kick himself. What was he thinking, spending all that time locked away bickering with his brother? He should have been with her so that if nothing else, he could have made her feel safe so that she didn't go to sleep afraid. The only saving grace was that Leonette was gone as well, so it was likely that the two were together.

'Bless you, Leonette.' He thought, thankful once again for her direct efforts to make Sansa feel welcome.

Funny enough, by the time he made it back to his chamber of all the things they had spoken of and his own pending nuptials, it was his sister's wedding that troubled him most of all. It stayed with him, occupying his mind so fully that even as he sat in his room alone, he kept losing his place in the book he was reading.

There was no simple explanation he could give his brother, no plausible reason he could come up with that would be convincing enough to cover his true intent, and so he gave no real explanation when questioned. He couldn't explain to them that he and his grandmother had arranged for the young king's death, most poetically, on his wedding day, so that his younger, more malleable brother might be installed. They had told no one, not even Margaery herself, so that they might raise as little suspicion as possible, and Garlan? Garlan had the shortest temper by far out of the four Tyrell siblings, and it prevented him from seeing the larger picture.

Then there was the question of attendance. While Garlan had flat out refused to attend the wedding based on principle, Willas had refused on more solid grounds. His grandmother was worried, he knew, that he and Garlan's absence would be suspicious, and where Garlan was concerned Willas thought she was likely right. However, it seemed more suspicious for Willas to leave the Reach for the first time in over a decade to attend his sister's second wedding, especially after not attending the first.

And what of Sansa? He feared what the Queen – mother would do if Sansa was in sight when her son died.

It was impossible to know how greatly their absences would affect the situation, but he knew that staying within the walls of Highgarden granted them a certain amount of security, even if it be only in distance. If they were hundreds of miles away from the festivities, it would be hard to implicate them or Sansa.

He did his best to try and put it all out of his mind, eventually finding a few hours of restless sleep.

The following morning he woke to an empty room, relieved that no one had come to wake him in the night with news of another incident. Though much to his chagrin a storm had gathered during the dark hours, delivering light showers to the Tyrell stronghold and making his knee ache in protest as he moved about. He took longer than usual to dress, but this was almost on purpose. He knew that his father and brother were both sitting in the council chamber, as they always were the morning after a large argument. Usually a night of sleep and space to think would give them all the ability to come to an armistice, but somehow he doubted that was the case this time.

With no enthusiasm whatsoever, Willas finished dressing and made his way to the council chamber.

Sansa rose late the next morning, the room still blissfully dark thanks to the heavy curtains that held out the sun. Leonette still snored peacefully in the bed beside her, blissfully dead to the world. She thought it would be kinder to stay there rather than risk waking her, but Sansa couldn't force herself back to sleep.

Though she moved carefully it was enough to stir Leonette into semi-consciousness and blue eyes peered out from behind heavy lids. "Gods, what hour is it?"

Sansa shrugged and moved towards the nearest window. "I'm not sure, let me check." She pulled back one of the drapes without thinking and had to close her eyes for a moment as the blinding light of the day flooded the room. Leonette, similarly affected, groaned loudly and hid her face under the covers. Once her eyes were sufficiently adjusted, Sansa took a quick glance outside, surprised to find that the morning was nearly gone. "Looks to be almost noon."

Leonette's head popped back out, blonde hair askew and a curious look on her face. "They must really be preoccupied, I'm never able to sleep so late."

With what looked like serious effort, the girl eventually extricated herself from the bed and the two shared a lavish breakfast while exchanging theories about what had happened the day before and what decisions the men might have come to over night. Leonette proved to be surprisingly practical, and they both agreed that the correct decision was to do nothing at all. It was too late to safely remove the others from the city before the wedding and the war that would ensue from such an act would be even greater than the one at hand. Leonette expressed her distaste for Garlan's behaviour more than once, making Sansa think Garlan might have a larger fight on his horizons than the one he was currently having with Willas.

After the meal they dressed and set off in the direction of the council chamber. They made it halfway there when they turned a corner and found Mace standing with Willas, the older man stopping mid sentence to greet them. There was a short exchange of information and the two learned that Garlan, still fuming but finally resigned, had gone to the yard to train. Leonette left at this point, presumably heading towards the training yard, expostulating loudly about her bloody minded husband as she went. Sansa smiled as she watched the silk skirt disappear around the corner, imaging the lengthy reproach Garlan was about to receive from his wife. Mace excused himself as well and Sansa stood with Willas in the hall, not quite sure what she should do with herself.

The newness of their relationship had dissipated by some degree following the attack and she tried to hold onto that feeling as she smiled at him. "I want to thank you again, for yesterday. You've saved my life." She might be mildly traumatized, yes, but alive.

His naturally good humored face dropped away, replaced by guilt. "I swore to protect you and within a week of you being here there's been an attempt to take you back to the Capitol. The worst thing about it is that I can't even promise it will be the last time." He twisted his cane, staring at the ground for a moment. Heir to this castle and the Lordship of the family, she could only imagine what kind of burden rested on his shoulders. Reaching out a hand she squeezed his upper arm lightly, his eyes rising to hers in response.

"Willas… There's no way to predict every move they're going to make, and no one expects you to, least of all me. I knew what could happen and I came here anyway. This was not your fault."

He considered her for a moment and then smiled. "I'm not sure that's entirely true but it's kind of you to say." Changing the subject, he gestured with his arm and they began to walk. "Did you sleep well?"

"Well enough." She lowered her voice so that trailing guards couldn't hear. "Leonette snores."

Chuckling, Willas nodded. "I've heard similar complaints from Garlan every morning since the day after their wedding."

"How are you?" She asked, noticing a darkness under his eyes that hadn't been there the day before. "I hope you weren't up all night?"

"That obvious, is it? Not all night no, but long enough. It can be difficult to make my brother see reason."

They ended up in Willas' offices, Sansa lounging on a chair across from him as they discussed recent events and those likely to come.

"A powder?" Sansa asked intrigued.

"From Tyrosh." Willas finished the cup of tea he was drinking and sat it down on the table beside. "Causes nearly instantaneous sleep. Nonlethal, though I'm sure that was mostly coincidence. Used it on almost every guard from the gate to your chamber. The fool must have been carrying around a sack of the stuff. It's a wonder he didn't knock himself out in the process."

"No small wonder at that." Sansa said, recalling the man who had attacked her. He didn't seem to be the kind of person capable of arranging something like that on his own, and she doubted his cohorts were either. "Something like that must have taken a great deal of effort and gold to acquire… I should think they'd have a difficult time trying to repeat the process."

"My thoughts exactly. I don't want you to live in a cloud of worry, Sansa. Word of their failure won't reach them in time, and with each attempt their risk grows greater. The Crown currently relies too greatly on house Tyrell to pursue this much further, but I won't lie to you, the possibility stands none the less. Though like I said, with any luck, it will take time for Lord Varys to hear of this failure, and they will miss what little window of opportunity remains. In the meantime, I'm having your guard doubled. I promise, you do not need to question your safety."

She hoped he was right and tried to find what comfort she could in his words. "I've been thinking… I'd like to occupy my time usefully. Margaery mentioned several charitable works she used to lead, she suggested I might speak to you about taking them over."

"I've not heard many young women make a request like that. You're very refreshing, you know. It would make me very happy to make the arrangements for you."

"No, but thank you." She smiled, her fingers wrapped around the warm cup of tea in her hands. It was some time since she'd had a real home and a family to be a part of and she wanted to be present for all of it. After all, should the worst happen and her brother lose his war, these near strangers could be all the family left to her. As it so often did when she thought of her mother and brother, Sansa's face fell as she stared into the cupful of steaming amber liquid.

"Is there something wrong with your tea?" Willas asked, his tone just barely humorous. "You're staring at it like it's done you some disservice."

Looking at her reflection in the small cup, Sansa decided he was right and put it down on the table. "I haven't felt so welcome in a place since I left Winterfell."

"Ah." Willas sat his own cup down, sympathy in his hazel eyes. "It's natural that you should miss your family and your home, but I'm glad being here brings you comfort, even if it's bittersweet."

While she didn't want to leave, she didn't want him to think her so fragile that she couldn't spend time alone. Sansa gave him a small nod. "I shouldn't take up all of your time-"

"Nonsense." Willas said, looking towards his desk. "In fact, now that I know you've spoken with my sister, there's several things I could use your opinion on, if you're interested?"

Half an hour later Sansa was sitting across from Willas at his desk, going through some of Margaery's old records. She hadn't made it through much yet, but from what she could see Margaery had kept herself quite busy. There were records of commissions for toys, a log of weekly donations of food and clothes to the orphanage, and it went on and on.

A heavy silence fell between them as they worked, neither quite sure what to say to the other but Willas was the first one to break it. "Sansa, I want you to be sure that you want to do this."

By 'this' she knew he meant their marriage, meant to take place in the morning, not the intimidating amount of charity work. Even the mere mention of the wedding was enough to make her heart flutter, but she smiled confidently nonetheless. "I won't say that I'm not nervous but I've made my decision. This is what I want." She said, trying to use a tone that would impress upon him her certainty.

He opened his mouth to speak but the look on his face told her that he was only going to ask her again, so she spoke first.

"I'm sure."

Willas raised half an eyebrow, clearly considering another attempt, but thought the better of it and nodded. Quite nonchalantly Sansa sat down the stack of papers she was clutching and lifted her tea cup, meeting his eyes over the rim of the cup. She took a sip, sat the cup down, and folded her hands in her lap, the picture of dignified composure. "It occurs to me that one could ask the same of you. Are you sure that this is what you want to do? After all, you could have married before now. Why me?"

Willas laughed dryly leaning back in his chair. "Yes, I suppose I could have. My mother and grandmother certainly did their best to make just that happen, but... " He trailed off searching for words that temporarily eluded him. "All of the women I've met have been concerned with little more than finding a decent husband and living out their days in the sanctuary of some castle, free of worry to live out their days. They don't know that the world is filled with deceptive, dangerous people. People that would end house Tyrell given the opportunity. So when my sister wrote and told me about you…" He shrugged a little. "I just thought, that's a woman who knows what's at stake, who's seen the dark side of life and come out on the other side stronger. Someone who is intelligent and brave. Someone who knows the importance of family and loyalty. I saw the look in your eyes yesterday. You could have hid in that armoire yourself, instead you chose to protect Leonette and face the danger head on."

"I'm honored to be thought of so highly." She said simply, not letting the waves of emotion she felt reach her face for if they did, she thought she would cry. To want to share the burden of his responsibility with someone he could trust was only natural, but to think her equal to the challenge made her heart glow.

"I can only imagine what it must take to put your trust in another, but I promise you Sansa, I will do everything in my power to make sure you don't regret coming here."

"It would be nice to look back and know I made one right choice. Gods know there haven't been many of them."

"Sansa… What could you have possibly done to think so little of yourself?" Something connected in his mind and his eyes widened. "You can't blame yourself for what's happened to your family."

"I can." She said definitely, a wry smile on her face. "I did everything I could to encourage my father to betrothe me to Joffrey and leave Winterfell. Then, of course, there was the ship." That had been the last and possibly the worst mistake she had made, the price of which had been far higher than she could have ever expected.

Willas' chestnut eyebrows quirked up and he stared at her, perplexed. "Ship? What ship?"

Holding his gaze for strength she sat up straight, her shoulders set and her voice grim with certainty. "My father had arranged for a ship to take my sister and I to White Harbor, so that we might return to Winterfell before there was any fall out from his threat against Cersei." She stopped to take a breath, one hand clenched into a fist. "We would have gotten away from King's Landing. I wouldn't have been held hostage to use against my brother and my sister would still be alive. If only I hadn't told Cersei." The weight of that confession filled the room and she narrowed her eyes a fraction of an inch at Willas, almost daring him to say something. Accuse her of being unloyal, a traitor, anything, as long as he said something.

It was a long moment but he did speak, his voice carefully neutral. "You did this of your own volition? No one influenced you to confide in Cersei?"

She could still vividly recall her first weeks in King's Landing and the affection Cersei had shown her during that time. The sting of that betrayal hadn't lessened much over time and she could feel her cheeks growing warmer at the mere thought of it. "That's just an excuse."

"It's not an excuse, it's a fact. Cersei purposely befriended you so she could use you against your father. You had no idea what was going on between the two of them and you can't say that things would have turned out any differently if you hadn't told her. If the allegations set against Cersei are true, and I believe they are, it would have been very difficult to escape her wrath. You shouldn't hold yourself accountable for the deeds of others, especially those who had a responsibility to protect and care for you."

While she was moved by his words and knew in her core that he was right, she couldn't bring herself to either agree nor disagree. Maybe one day that wound could be healed, but it wouldn't be this one. It was still too raw.

The sounds of the night drifted in through an open window, filling the quiet room.

As of late, Sansa had developed a tendency to drift off into long, contemplative silences, and felt herself falling into one now. This seemed not to bother her intended, as each time it had happened since her coming to Highgarden, Willas simply sat with her, keeping her company until she decided to breach the quiet. This time, she slowly became aware of his gaze on her, a humorous smile on his face.

"What?"

"You're so very beautiful, but when you drift off like that, you look so… angry."

She laughed. "Do I really?"

"Yes. It's quite terrifying."

"Excuse me, I'm meant to be your wife." She appreciated the way he endeavored to make her laugh, taking any opportunity presented to make her smile. He had continually displayed a sense of devotion that was inspiring her with a great deal of trust, regardless of her previous misgivings about his intentions. It was that trust made her feel comfortable to tread into more uncertain waters, as she hadn't forgotten what she had seen him do the day before and for some reason she felt the need to ask him now.

"Tell me... What is the full extent of your injury?"

Willas huffed and laughed, leaning back in his chair, a mix of admiration and amusement in his eyes.

"You're more observant than I've given you credit for. I suppose that's my mistake, underestimating you. I should have known that such a detail would never have escaped your notice. I promise, I did plan to tell you eventually, but it's something I've gotten rather used to keeping to myself."

She nodded, more than capable of understanding. "One can imagine, but if you don't mind me asking, was the injury not as severe as everyone thought, or has it healed?"

"It's healed slowly, and I have nothing close to a full range of motion, but yes. Overtime, I've regained more use of my leg than I've let become public knowledge. It never seemed important to tell people. I still can't ride off into battle, so really, what difference does it make to them? I know how dishonorable it must sound, but I swear I didn't mean any harm by it."

She blinked in surprise, but in all actuality, didn't think he had done anything wrong. She saw the practicality in his decision, and as the woman about to become his wife, she didn't hate the fact that she would never have to send him off to fight. "As far as I'm concerned, you're telling me now, and that's what matters. As for all the others…" She trailed off, thinking. "Any advantage, no matter how slight, is worth having, isn't it?"

He smiled warmly. "My thoughts exactly. I trust you will keep my secret, then?"

"I will." Sansa answered with a degree of fierceness she wasn't used to feeling, meeting his eye levely. She said, "From this day until my last, your secrets will be my secrets." And knew she meant it.