Sansa stared at her for a moment, and she could not stop the spike of fear that dug through her, but her face was still kind and genial, her eyes widening just a tad. "Ser Jaime Lannister? I heard tales of him, from my father." She bit the inside of her lip for a moment, and pulled in a breath. "I have not met him yet," she said demurely, her lips still in that same soft smile. "Although I am looking forward to it, now! It is good to know I am not the only one from my home."

Every word that fell out of Alayne's mouth made Sansa curl closer, into a smaller and smaller ball. The words scrabbled at her heart, that Jaime Lannister was here, and she did not know what she expected him to do - if he would take her home, if he would take her head - they said she killed his son. She did, in a sort, and his sister wished her head on a spike.

But Alayne smiled, and talked of how exciting it was, after all - Ser Jaime was a knight, and even if he was the Kingslayer, even if he was hardly Arthur Dayne, it was still exciting. Even though it made Sansa feel as if she was going to be sick.