[ she is surprised to see him listening, not only to her words but for her feelings, the thoughts behind what she speaks — and for a moment, she thinks, perhaps I have judged him too quickly.

and then he continues on, and the cold blood in her veins warms, burns, boils. ]

His mistress? Is that what you take me for? What you take women for? A value placed on nothing but what's between our legs? [ her voice is knife-sharp, and winter chill might as well have taken over the room. ] For someone who preaches of equality, you seem to understand very little of it.

[ she lifts her chin, straightens up, and with her height, it's easy to look at him straight in the eye. ] I am Sansa Stark of Winterfell, and I am no one's mistress.