A peek.

"You woke me from a particularly good dream, Sansa. I wouldn't mind getting a rough idea of how it ended." You pause, gauging her reaction. "You see, it's been some time since I visited the dear Roz with Robb and Theon, and I could do with some visual cues to remember quite how she looked - your dress reminds me a little of what she was wearing the last time I visited her."

It was a risk to liken Sansa's dress with the outfit of a whore, but you banked on her being excited, although subconsciously, of the comparison.

"Adjust your dress to be a little more revealing, and I'll help you find your things. You know I'm good at sniffing things around here - people trust me."

Sansa snorted in disgust.

"Father won't be happy to find out you've lost Grandmother's sewing kit, I would imagine..." you let the open threat linger, and Sansa's look of disgust deepens, largely due to your lecherous way, but, you feel, also due to the fact, without a seconds hesitation, she begins to pull her dress further down, the cropped, circular collar pulling down into the crevass between her small, pert breasts. You can see the outline of her nipples beginning to poke through her undergarments. Beautifully little nubs covered in silk.

As expected, Sansa was just another teen slut, yearning for boys attention.

Further down and to the side creeps her collar, plunging until the shadow of her areolas just peek out from the material, before she lets go and the collar springs back up.

Now at full mast, you regard her as she turns to look at you again.

"Happy now? You disgust me. Just help me find Grandmother's things and stop being such a creep."