"We had winters that went on for years sometimes," Sansa replies with a nod of her own. Apparently it's quite different here, with seasons coming methodically and all getting an even amount of time, something she thinks will take some adjusting on her part. It's better, certainly, for the people of Darrow, but the Northerner in her misses the climate from her home.

All she can do is try to find what commonalities she can, the reason she came here in the first place. "Thank you," she says. "I'm Sansa of House Stark." The other titles, she leaves off, at least for now. They don't mean much here; she isn't queen of anything anymore.