The masquerade was soon to fade into the night. Revellers and minstrels had taken to their bedchambers, leaving the galliard hall vacant with every drop of the sand. It was the hour for Lady Celine and Sansa to also get to theirs.

Sansa had summoned the maid to bring forth feast, beverage and lemon cakes as soon as everyone had egressed from the revelry. Though in actuality, when she took note of Lord Caudray mounting the bifurcated staircase.

Sansa had felt quite enamored by his grace but was it his valor and the way his eyes glinted every now and then, when he espied her eyes turning to him? Maybe... Or probably there was something indiscernible about him.

She also found herself being fond of his smile even if it was not at her directly.

Lady Celine had scant knowledge of Lord Caudray. For Lady Celine, he was a man of strong boundaries, didn't like excessive public glare on himself and quote swiftly became the heated subject of the winterfell.

Not just Sansa but many others had been swayed. Nevertheless, even Lady Celine couldn't refute his unmitigated devotion to the queen especially as the look in his eyes was not one that could be concealed.

She stood in the balcony, the wind ruffling through her hair. She squinted as she stared up at the grey clouds forming and covering the clarity of the sky.

"My lady." A voice called from behind. She turned to find her maid standing with the feast and beverages adorned on a silver dish.

"Oh, Priscilla."

"The food is here." She placed it on the table, right in the center of the space, carefully with a clink, "Is it warm?" Sansa asked.

"Yes, my lady."

As she was taking her leave, Sansa called out to her.

"Yes, your grace?" Priscilla said

"Have you seen Lady Celine?"

"I'm afraid I haven't, my lady."

Sansa nodded.

Priscilla added, "May I assess her chambers?"

She spoke after a pause, "There shall be no need for that. If you happen to see her, then, let her know I'm here."

She cut the slice of the cake in half and then, cut it further into half when she heard Priscilla again.

"Your grace."

She turned towards Priscilla and it wasn't her she said it to. Lord Caudray had been standing there.

How long had he been there, she thought.

Priscilla didn't leave until Sansa said, "You may leave us alone, Priscilla" and then, she left without a word.

"Lord Caudray" Sansa got to her feet instantaneously.

"Your grace..." He cleared his throat before speaking, "I must not disconcert you at this hour." He eyed her glancing once at the clouds at the mention of time and then, back at him again.

"No, please be seated, my lord."

He took half a step towards her before stopping himself.

"I must get going, my lady." Slowly, he took her hand in his, planting the softest kiss on top which she must not have felt. At last, he caressed her hand lightly with his thumb before letting go of her hand and retreating two steps backward.

"Is there something, Lord..."

Sansa ceased mid sentence when she saw Caudray turn away from her. He marched towards the table and seemed to have procured something from the feast there. When he turned around, she saw both of his hands occupied with a glass on each. He advanced in her direction gradually and moving further, towards the edge of the balcony, straining the drink from each one wholly and tossed them out in the dark.

Sansa looked at him, wide eyed, "Lord Caudray!"

"They are poisoned." Caudray said

"Poisoned? But Priscilla, MY MAID, got them here on MY COMMAND." Sansa's voice had turned shrieky with also sounding offended on top.

When Caudray didn't utter a word and was seen almost retreating, Sansa demanded, "Tell me! Lord Caudray, why did you do so?"

"Trust me, my lady. I wouldn't dare to do such a thing if it had a chance to be otherwise." He spoke as if he had thought of the words long ago.

"So, did Priscilla poison it?" Sansa was sounding frantic and her eyes had turned bloodshot red.

Lord Caudray tried maintaining his peace, "We cannot trust everyone."

She took short quick breaths, taking a step backwards from him, "I don't believe you. It's...this is a...lie."

"Believe what you will, my lady."

These were the last words Lord Caudray ever said to Sansa. His words held an air of conviction which rung in her ears long after she was left alone, even when she tried to put herself to sleep and long into the night.

Believe what you will, my lady...

The next morrow, Caudray was nowhere to be seen. One of the maids had apprised her of his early departure at dawn.

And she stood in the same balcony as last night talking to Celine of all that which transpired the night of the masquerade, with Lord Caudray.

"Your grace, this has been sent for you." It was one of the maids with a rugged scroll in her hand fastened by a seal.

Thunder rumbled in the sky as she took hold of the scroll and broke the seal, unfolding it.

My Lady, Sansa Stark, Queen in The North. I pray to the old gods and the new that all has been well in your reign. Though, I hereby, write to you to talk of the adverse times we have been battling through. Brandon Stark, Lord of The Six Kingdoms and Protector of The Realms has taken ill. The air in King's Landing has turned grim. He yearns to have you close by him at this dire need of the hour and so do all of us.

Tyrion Lannister

The hand.