[ anger makes her forget herself. Rage, purified fury that only comes from a great wrong witnessed so young. Ned Stark’s head on a pike, the mockery of Robb’s death at Joffrey’s wedding. Ramsay, all of him. In that moment, Sansa is alight.

She is made stone, iron, forged steel. ]

I would not have her taken from me again, if I have the power to prevent it here. I’ve met little kindness since being taken from—

[ Too close. ]

I forget myself, my lady. Forgive me.