Her house had been invaded.
There were no other terms for the many faces that had begun to appear.
Between the pinching of the cheeks, the throwing in the air without a parachute and the smiles worthy of making you cringe. Little Arya had her fix.
No it wasn't the Bolton, yes it was allies. But when the word mierda (shit) first came out of her mouth, she had too many scapegoats.
Bodyguards had been assigned to her. Some stayed outside the apartment and only returned during their break to eat. Others had taken on the role of nanny and watched her at all hours.
Rosa and Anna were still very nice and dedicated to their job. But it was impossible to ignore the weapons hidden under their jackets. Sometimes being a child had its advantages. Few people paid attention to their conversation in front of a baby. Except to clean up their language. Her mother didn't like her getting into bad habits and forbade her to swear until she was 10 years old. But if the insults had disappeared from the conversations that had not prevented her from discovering the criminal identity of her father.
Was she shocked?
She is an assassin and one of the main lessons is to know how to adapt. She therefore considered the Valentinos as her allies unless they proved her otherwise. Her decision carried more weight when during a walk in one of the city's few parks, she came too close to a gunfight.
Rosa took a bullet in the shoulder to protect her. Arya clung to her as the bullet was removed. She had only left her when her distraught parents had joined them.
Alas the Valentinos had seen this as an act of kindness and had started nicknaming her Princesa.
She had escaped the title of lady and now she was called princess. She was sure that somewhere Sansa was laughing at her.
At least her mother didn't force her to wear dresses or learn to sew.