Lie for her

As Lord Stark approaches, you move to your side of the High Table, resting your palms on the oak. The table reaches your midriff, the tall chairs along its length proving sufficient elevation to sit comfortably at meal times.

"Sorry Father, I haven't seen her, but last I saw her, just this morning, she had the sewing kit in hand and was looking for Septa Mordane. She mentioned something about needing some instructions on repairing a silk dress."

You feel some gentle rustling beneath the table, as Eddard Stark begins to slowly massage his temple.

"Good. Good. I'll have a word with Arya then, spreading rumours like that is unbefitting of a young lady." He sighs, a deep, rumbling noise. "Jon, I'm glad I found you. We need to talk."