"There's something more urgent I need to ask of you," Sansa said earnestly, looking at Arya.
"It's about the Masked Knight at the tournament. You were there today, so you must know about this Knight."
Upon hearing her sister mention her presence at the tournament, Arya's cheeks flushed slightly.
Just two days ago, she had told Sansa to her face, "I have no interest in participating in any boring tournament."
Now, being confronted about it made her feel a bit embarrassed.
However, as she was about to shyly deny it, the mention of the Masked Knight immediately caught her attention.
Truth be told, she was quite interested in this Masked Knight. Today, while in the audience, her master's appraisal of the Masked Knight and his self-deprecation had intrigued her.
Sansa recounted the events that had transpired and said, "You saw the Masked Knight today, didn't you?
I hope you can find him tomorrow and tell him about this. He needs to leave King's Landing as soon as possible, otherwise Prince Joffrey will harm him."
"The Mountain is no match for the Masked Knight!" Arya blurted out.
She trusted her master's judgment the most. In her eyes, her master was a true expert.
No matter how she wielded her sword during their practice sessions, she couldn't even touch her master.
She believed that the clumsy Gregor would surely be defeated by her master.
Just like her, he wouldn't be able to lay a finger on her master. How could someone like that defeat the Masked Knight?
When it came to martial matters, Sansa trusted Arya's judgment because she had always been interested in it from a young age.
But she also knew that even though the Mountain couldn't match the Masked Knight in a fair fight, Joffrey wasn't someone who played by the rules.
He could easily resort to foul play outside the arena.
She shared her judgment with Arya.
"How could he do that?" Arya protested loudly, but then she remembered how Joffrey had treated her and her friends.
Joffrey wasn't their equal in combat, so he used real swords against them. He wasn't someone who played fair.
"Fine," she sighed in resignation. "You're right. I'll find a way to warn him before the match."
Suddenly, she remembered the scene where the Masked Knight had presented flowers to Sansa during the tournament, and she blurted out.
"You really like that Masked Knight, don't you? You haven't even seen his face."
"What are you talking about, Arya?" Sansa blushed and squirmed, but she still awkwardly replied in front of her sister.
"Although I haven't seen his face, I believe he must be handsome and young, with a charming voice and a noble demeanor..."
Arya knew instantly that her sister had fallen in love again.
Honestly, she thought her sister was wonderful in every way, a completely qualified, even admirable lady.
But when it came to love, she always fantasized about being a character in a knight novel or a fairy tale and got deeply involved in it, liking Joffrey for the same reason—fantasizing about the role of a prince.
However, this time Arya agreed with her sister's choice.
She thought the Masked Knight was a good guy, not because of his demeanor, but because of his exceptional martial skills.
But at this moment, Arya felt jealous and bitter because she sometimes felt like Sansa had everything.
Sansa was skilled in sewing, embroidery, singing, dancing, poetry, and dressing up. What's worse, she was a great beauty.
Sansa inherited the delicate cheekbones and thick auburn hair from their mother, while Arya resembled their father, with dark brown, dull hair and a long, melancholic face.
Later, after the arrival of the king and the prince, Sansa was selected the prince's wife.
Although she hated Joffrey and the queen, she couldn't help but envy Sansa's selection—after all, it was a testament to her charm.
Now, even the skilled and martially adept Masked Knight was showing her attention.
As for herself, she was just a wild girl, not proficient in the arts of a lady.
The septa never liked her. The only areas where she excelled compared to her sister were horse riding and swordsmanship.
But would the Masked Knight like a girl skilled in swordsmanship? Would he also prefer a true lady like everyone else?
Initially, Arya only had a favorable impression and admiration for the Masked Knight's martial skills.
But because of her jealousy towards her sister, she suddenly became curious about the Masked Knight's romantic side and even had a desire to compete with her sister for him.
Charm is higher when there's competition for it.
Nevertheless, Arya was fundamentally a good child, and she still wished her sister a good match.
She suggested to Sansa, enduring the bitterness,,"Why don't you elope with the Masked Knight? My master said the Masked Knight is from Essos, not from the Seven Kingdoms.
Since he admires you, and you like him, why not run away to the continent of Essos together?
That way, you won't have to marry the detestable Joffrey, and in Essos, the king won't be able to catch you."
This proposal was quite bold, hitting right at the heart of Sansa's romantic aspirations—a plot often seen in fairy tales, wasn't it?
However, to boldly agree to this plan in front of her sister, as a lady, Sansa couldn't do it. She shyly left with a "You handle it" and fled immediately.
That was her boldest response yet.
...
The next morning, during the early rounds of the individual competition, there were only four participants.
Alaric, disguised as the Masked Knight, was already preparing by the edge of the arena, feeding his horse while waiting for the king to take his seat.
This horse was chosen from Drogo's Khalasar, born of the same mother as Daenerys's silver mare.
Although he wasn't skilled in horse taming, under the influence of the dragon's power, which horse would dare to misbehave?
Suddenly, he noticed a girl dressed like a boy, with short hair and wielding a slender sword, walking towards him.
Despite her tomboyish appearance, from the slight bulge in her chest, Alaric could tell she was a girl.
The girl seemed to notice that she had been noticed as well. She smiled slightly at Alaric, whose face was covered by a helmet, and then her sword thrust towards him.
The girl's strength wasn't great, but her movements were agile, and her angles were tricky.
Being left-handed, most people weren't used to her swordplay. Faced with such a sudden attack, even a well-trained old soldier couldn't help but be embarrassed.
From the girl's attire, the sword in her hand, and her somewhat similar appearance to Sansa, Alaric immediately recognized her identity—Arya Stark, the second daughter of the Stark family, and the third child.
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