A Ser.

Arya cracked the door open just enough so that the dim candlelight caught her eye. Inside the room, from what she could see, was a slender young man sitting upon the bed. His face was cast downwards, studying the work in his hands, for he carried a set of greaves and was polishing them with a cloth.

Arya bit her lip inquisitively and pushed the door open wider. It creaked on its hinge and the young knight looked to her instantly. He set aside the armor and stood to greet her. His eyes tracked from her head to her toes and back again, taking in what he could. She wore pants that extended to the knees, high socks, boots, and an ill-fitting tunic that rested lightly against her budding breasts. Arya felt his gaze upon her and began to blush. But she was the intruder here, even if it was her father's castle, and she knew she had to think fast. Before she could get a word out-

"And who are you, girl?" He asked gruffly.

She began to panic, for just a second. To tell the truth would invite trouble from her Lord father, no doubt, but her status as Lord Stark's daughter brought with it many luxuries and she was used to taking advantage of them.

"I'm Arya Stark, and one day I'll be a Lady, so you best show some respect."

"In that case," he knelt to bow, "apologies are in order, my lady. Please, I had no idea."

Around the room the candles burnt dimly and Arya could see the disarray. In one corner sat a desk and on it a large stack of papers and envelopes and sealing wax in the same color as her house, the grey of winter. But he was no northern knight, Arya could tell right away. No, he had arrived with the King's retinue, she surmised.

"My lady, what has brought you to my chambers? How can I be of assistance?" He asked delicately, but Arya could hear the confusion in his tone. She was lost herself, unable to come up with a suitable lie.

She stuttered and then, low under her breath, whispered, "I don't know." Nervously, her eyes darted away from his penetrating gaze to the corner of the room where more plate armor and a sword lay piled together.

"If that's the case," he began, "You best bugger off. I've got much to do, you see." he pointed to the greaves and armor and sat with a heavy thud back on the bed.

Arya stung. She hadn't known rejection like this. She was to be a lady, even if it's the last thing she wanted. Her Lord father would hear of this young knight's rudeness. She whirled around and slammed the door shut behind her.

She stood in the hallway, her back pressed firmly against the doorway, panting from the excitement. Maybe Lord Stark needn't know anyways, she mused. Arya was always up for some adventure, anyways.