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"Your brother is the Lord of Winterfell now, you know."
Arya did not know, but she was glad she did now. Her eyes lit up at the news. Though doubt and fear crept in anyway.
"How do you know?"
The Hound nodded towards the inn behind their backs, disappearing into the distance as they rode on.
"The barmaid told me," he said. "That, and she charged more than she said she would. What a cunt."
Arya couldn't hear him rambling about the greedy maid as she thought about Jon being Lord of Winterfell. It changed... everything. She could go back home now.
"Your pretty head still worth gold to the bastard?" the Hound asked.
Arya frowned, her brows knitted together in defiance.
"Jon is no longer a bastard," she argued. "He's Lord now. I can go home."
"Born a bastard, matters not what he calls himself," the man shrugged. "It's his actions that matter. My brother's been anointed a knight, but in truth? He's just an arse."
"Jon is the most honorable and noble person you'll ever meet," Arya insisted, a sly smirk on her face. "You'll see. He's the spitting image of my lord father."
"Headless?"
She whacked him.