Nervously get back to his business

The young lord put on some clothes and tried to look more presentable in case anyone else came barging in. His erection slowly died down as the thought of what just had happened sank in.

Sansa had seen him, seen his...

Bran walked back and forth, imagining what would happen. He hadn't noticed how nervous he was until he'd realized he was praying to the old gods and the new for Sansa to not tell him on anyone. He was terrified by the possibility if anyone else knowing. What if she told Rickon or Robb? He'd be the laughing stock of the house for the rest of his life. And what if she told mom? It'd be shameful, as someone who was old enough, to admit that his mother scared him sometimes, but Lady Stark struck terror in many grown men.

But Bran was not as foolish as one might think. The Northerner was already devising something to save his skin if his mother came barging in to kill him. He was not the one to blame. He had been in the privacy of his room the whole time. It was Sansa who hadn't knocked. It was Sansa who'd been where she wasn't supposed to be.

Bran sighed. He was dead.

His balls were aching badly from being unable to release his seed. Oh how he wished his orher sister was there to help.

He wondered if Sansa somehow knew of his incestuous affair. He doubted it, there was no one who could've possibly caught them and Arya was definetly not going to tell anyone else about their erotic acts. Anyway, that night would be the last one in Winterfell before their travel to the capital. Perhaps it would be best to get ready for the feast.