"Less dreary, more...f..." Sansa trailed off as they rounded the corner, and she made a soft sound as she stepped forward, barely avoiding tripping down the stairs as she walked to the recessed floor and the wall of windows. Her eyes were wide as she stared out at the wonder of space, and she felt as if her breath had been stolen from her - as if the sheer beauty of it had reached into her chest with both hands and taken everything that made her who she was. Everything that made her Sansa Stark, unconcerned with Alayne Stone, for it knew that it was just a shell.

It was her father carrying her to show her the first flowers when the winter had ended. It was Robb standing up for her when Theon had teased her until she cried. It was her mother braiding her hair and telling her how beautiful she was, it was Ser Loras Tyrell handing her the rose. It was the spiraling hope that Joffrey Baratheon would save her father's life, before horror her life became after that moment.

She moved closer to the window, her fingers touching the smooth glass as she stared, remembering after a moment to pull in a sudden breath, realising that she had forgotten to do so, and she realised in that moment that she was crying.

She looked down abruptly, fingertips scrubbing at her cheeks, her words thick. "I'm sorry, I- I never thought-" And Sansa had no words.