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Sansa found winter in the Vale was so cold and lonely it almost made her wish she was back in King’s Landing—almost.
Not that she missed being terrorized by Joffrey and bullied by his guards, or married to Tyrion and shunned as the daughter of a traitor.
But Margaery was in King’s Landing.
Margaery, who was kind to everyone, even—especially—Sansa.
Margaery, who whispered all her secrets in Sansa’s ear and told her jokes that made her laugh whenever she was homesick.
Margaery, who made sure lemon cake was always present at every meal because it was Sansa’s favorite.
Margaery, whose tender lips had given Sansa her first kiss beneath the heart tree.
Late at night, when the Eyrie was quiet, Sansa found that if she listened close, the chilly winter wind rushing through the cracks in the castle’s bricks almost sounded like Margaery calling her name—almost.