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The singing drew Jon away from the Fairy Court procession. It was a lovely voice, and the girl it belonged to was even lovelier by comparison. He was especially mesmerized by her flowing red hair, and how it caught the moonlight as she danced with an imaginary partner. Of course, as soon as he flew closer to get a better look, she spotted him.
“I’m sorry!” he cried as the girl fled behind the propped up open storybook. “I didn’t mean to frighten you! I was curious, is all.”
Bright blue eyes peeked around the book’s edge. “Curious about what?”
“Your voice. I heard you singing, and thought it sounded pretty.” He cringed. Gods, Jon, you sound a fool.
The girl giggled and stepped out from her hiding place. There was a beat in which they took each other in, and Jon was secretly pleased to see that she was as equally transfixed as he was of her.
“I don’t mean to stare,” she murmured. “It’s just that…I’ve never met someone my size. I thought I was the only one.” Before he could respond, she drew herself into an elegant curtsy that would rival any noblewoman’s. “My name is Sansa.”
“Sansa,” he breathed, grinning like a loon.
“You should always compliment a lady’s name when she gives it to you, sir,” she chided, but he could tell she was only teasing him.
“It’s a beautiful name, my lady,” he responded immediately. “It suits you,” he added sincerely.
Sansa blushed at the compliment, and Jon preened. “And what is your name, sir?” she asked shyly.
Jon started. “Oh! Right.” He bowed to her formally, thankful for once for his lessons in etiquette his father forced on him. “My name is Jon.”
“Jon…” she repeated, smiling. Jon smiled back. He rather liked how his name sounded coming from her. “It’s lovely to meet you.”
“Likewise.”