No, she gets there on time

Using her sense of direction, Arya makes it to the courtyard quickly. Rounding a corner, she sees the Red Woman in her usual red dress, the gem on her neck almost glowing in the sun. She was accompanied by a man Arya had never seen before. He was handsome in a roguish sort of way, with dark hair and dark eyes. He was standing in a very relaxed stance, opposed to Melisandre's rigid posture, and was rather obviously checking Arya out. His leather armor was also black, instead of the usual red.

"I am glad you are on time," Melisandre commented. She seemed stern, like a teacher, which was quite different from last night, when she had been a lover. "Yesterday, you showed great interest in learning how to fight. I thought it would be appropriate to start with that." Arya perked up, swordplay piking her interest.

"This is Bronn," Melisandre continued, "He fought against Stannis at the Blackwater, but has atoned for his sins since then."

"And by atoned for his sins, she means I am now on the payroll of the Baratheons," Bronn joked. Arya smiled, deciding that she liked him.

"Regardless," Melisandre growled, glaring at the sellsword, "he is a very gifted swordsman, and I think he will make a great teacher." From her robes, she drew Needle, Arya's prized sword. It had been a gift from Jon, and had been taken from her when Stannis' men had cleaned her up. The Red Woman tossed the sword to Arya, who caught it with ease. Drawing the blade from its scabbard, she swung it around a bit, reacquainting herself with her beloved weapon.

"I'll leave you to it," Melisandre finished, leaving the courtyard.

"Man," Bronn commented stealing a look at the Red Woman's ass once she was out of earshot, "What does a guy gotta do to get under the sheets with her!"

"Become a red priestess," Arya replied, still practicing with her blade. It took Bronn a second to comprehend what she had implied, and he laughed when he understood.

"Very funny, girl. Now, I was told you trained with some Bravoosi."

"Syrio Forel," Arya stated proudly, "The First Sword of Bravoos."

Bronn spat in response. "Those Bravoosi are full of shit, dancing around with their fancy 'technique.' No, you need to learn how to fight proper. Draw your sword." Arya, compelled to protect her former teacher's honor, raised her blade. Bronn lunged at her, using his dulled sword to make quick, target attacks. Arya successfully dodged the first flurry but was knocked to the ground when Bronn backhanded her.

"Hey, that's cheating," Arya complained, rubbing her injured cheek.

"There's no cheating in life. You win or you die. So try your best to win." He launched another attack, again using underhanded tactics. One thing Arya noticed was how he used his surroundings. As he fought he pushed vases over and ducked behind trees. Every time Arya was knocked down, she learned.

After two hours, and the destruction of the courtyard, Arya was showing real improvement.

"Okay, one more bout before we break for the day," Bronn said, raising his sword. "I've got wine to drink, food to eat, and women to fuck."

"In that order?" Arya joked, raising Needle. As Bronn charged, Arya contemplated her strategy.