"An idea," she murmured. "Only an idea."

And one kept until him from now if only because the commission had been given to some other smith: a set of sleek silver cloak pins boasting the Cothromach's device. Small inexpensive trinkets that carried heavy honours. Along with the lingering expectation of duty. Sansa, knowing she could not stand to share this news, sank into the bench's opposite corner. It kept room between them.

"Some way to show gratitude to those who came to the city's aid."