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Sansa's stomach was aflutter。 〃What other thing？〃
〃I told you that nothing could please me more than to help you with your castle。 I fear that was a lie as well。 Something else would please me more。〃 He stepped closer。 〃This。〃
Sansa tried to step back； but he pulled her into his arms and suddenly he was kissing her。 Feebly； she tried to squirm； but only succeeded in pressing herself more tightly against him。 His mouth was on hers； swallowing her words。 He tasted of mint。 For half a heartbeat she yielded to his kiss 。 。 。 before she turned her face away and wrenched free。 〃What are you doing？〃
Petyr straightened his cloak。 〃Kissing a snow maid。〃
〃You're supposed to kiss her。〃 Sansa glanced up at Lysa's balcony； but it was empty now。 〃Your lady wife。〃
〃I do。 Lysa has no cause for plaint。〃 He smiled。 〃I wish you could see yourself； my lady。 You are so beautiful。 You're crusted over with snow like some little bear cub； but your face is flushed and you can scarcely breathe。 How long have you been out here？ You must be very cold。 Let me warm you； Sansa。 Take off those gloves； give me your hands。〃
〃I won't。〃 He sounded almost like Marillion； the night he'd gotten so drunk at the wedding。 Only this time Lothor Brune would not appear to save her； Ser Lothor was Petyr's man。 〃You shouldn't kiss me。 I might have been your own daughter 。 。 。〃
〃Might have been；〃 he admitted； with a rueful smile。 〃But you're not； are you？ You are Eddard Stark's daughter； and Cat's。 But I think you might be even more beautiful than your mother was； when she was your age。〃
〃Petyr； please。〃 Her voice sounded so weak。 〃Please。
〃A castle！〃
The voice was loud； shrill； and childish。 Littleflnger turned away from her。 〃Lord Robert。〃 He sketched a bow。 〃Should you be out in the snow without your gloves？〃
〃Did you make the snow castle； Lord Littlefinger？〃
〃Alayne did most of it； my lord。〃
Sansa said； 〃It's meant to be Winterfell。〃
〃Winterfell？〃 Robert was small for eight； a stick of a boy with splotchy skin and eyes that were always runny。 Under one arm he clutched the threadbare cloth doll he carried everywhere。
〃Winterfell is the seat of House Stark；〃 Sansa told her husband…to…be。 〃The great castle of the north。〃
〃It's not so great。〃 The boy knelt before the gatehouse。 〃Look； here es a giant to knock it down。〃 He stood his doll in the snow and moved it jerkily。 〃Tromp tromp I'm a giant； I'm a giant；〃 he chanted。 〃Ho ho ho； open yourgates or I'll mash them and smash them。〃 Swinging the doll by the legs； he knocked the top off one gatehouse tower and then the other。
It was more than Sansa could stand。 〃Robert； stop that。〃 Instead he swung the doll again； and a foot of wall exploded。 She grabbed for his hand but she caught the doll instead。 There was a loud ripping sound as the thin cloth tore。 Suddenly she had the doll's head； Robert had the legs and body； and the rag…and…sawdust stuffing was spilling in the snow。
Lord Robert's mouth trembled。 〃You killed him；〃 he wailed。 Then he began to shake。 It started with no more than a little shivering； but within a few short heartbeats he had collapsed across the castle； his limbs flailing about violently。 White towers and snowy bridges shattered and fell on all sides。 Sansa stood horrified； but Petyr Baelish seized her cousin's wrists and shouted for the maester。
Guards and serving girls arrived within instants to help restrain the boy； Maester Colemon a short time later。 Robert Arryn's shaking sickness was nothing new to the people of the Eyrie； and Lady Lysa had trained them all to e rushing at the boy's first cry。 The maester held the little lord's head and gave him half a cup of dreamwine； murmuring soothing words。 Slowly the violence of the fit seemed to ebb away； till nothing remained but a small shaking of the hands。 〃Help him to my chambers；〃 Colemon told the guards。 〃A leeching will help calm him。〃
〃It was my fault。〃 Sansa showed them the doll's head。 〃I ripped his doll in two。 I never meant to； but 。 。 。〃
〃His lordship was destroying the castle；〃 said Petyr。
〃A giant；〃 the boy whispered； weeping。 〃It wasn't me； it was a giant hurt the castle。 She killed him！ I hate her！ She's a bastard and I hate her！ I don't want to be leeched！〃
〃My lord； your blood needs thinning；〃 said Maester Colemon。 〃It is the bad blood that makes you angry； and the rage that brings on the shaking。 e now。〃
They led the boy away。 My lord husband； Sansa thought； as she contemplated the ruins of Winterfell。 The snow had stopped； and it was colder than before。 She wondered if Lord Robert would shake all through their wedding。 At least Joffrey was sound of body。 A mad rage seized hold of her。 She picked up a broken branch and smashed the torn doll's head down on top of it； then pushed it down atop the shattered gatehouse of her snow castle。 The servants looked aghast； but when Littlefinger saw what she'd done he laughed。 〃If the tales be true； that's not the first giant to end up with his head on Winterfell's walls。〃
〃Those are only stories；〃 she said； and left him there。
Back in her bedchamber； Sansa took off her cloak and her wet boots and sat beside the fire。 She had no doubt that she would be made to answer for Lord Robert's fit。 Perhaps Lady Lysa Mll send me away。 Her aunt was quick to banish anyone who displeased her； and nothing displeased her quite so much as people she suspected of mistreating her son。
Sansa would have weled banishment。 The Gates of the Moon was much larger than the Eyrie； and livelier as well。 Lord Nestor Royce seemed gruff and stem； but his daughter Myranda kept his castle for him； and everyone said how frolicsome she was。 Even Sansa's supposed bastardy might not count too much against her below。 One of King Robert's baseborn daughters was in service to Lord Nestor； and she and the Lady Myranda were said to be fast friends； as close as sisters。
I will tell my aunt that I don't want to marry Robert。 Not even the High Septon himself could declare a woman married if she refused to say the vows。 She wasn't a beggar； no matter what her aunt said。 She was thirteen； a woman flowered and wed； the heir to Winterfell。 Sansa felt sorry for her little cousin sometimes； but she could not imagine ever wanting to be his wife。 I would sooner be married to Tyrion again。 If Lady Lysa knew that； surely she'd send her away 。 。 。 away from Robert's pouts and shakes and runny eyes； away from Marillion's lingering looks； away from Petyr's kisses。 I will tell her。 I will！
It was late that afternoon when Lady Lysa summoned her。 Sansa had been marshaling her courage all day； but no sooner did Marillion appear at her door than all her doubts returned。 〃Lady Lysa requires your presence in the High Hall。〃 The singer's eyes undressed her as he spoke； but she was used to that。
Marillion was ely； there was no denying it； boyish and slender； with smooth skin； sandy hair； a charming smile。 But he had made himself well hated in the Vale； by everyone but her aunt and little Lord Robert。 To hear the servants talk； Sansa was not the first maid to suffer his advances； and the others had not had Lothor Brune to defend them。 But Lady Lysa would hear no plaints against him。