"Yes," Diana snapped, her tone blunt. "Ignore him. Forget him. You're a queen, for heaven's sake, not some love-struck girl waiting for scraps of affection. If he's too busy gallivanting with his concubines to see your worth, then he doesn't deserve you."
Sansa's shoulders sagged, her despair evident. "It wasn't supposed to be like this," she murmured.
"He wasn't supposed to become king. If… if only she hadn't died, his sister would have taken the throne, and I wouldn't—"
Diana cut her off with a wave of her hand. "Enough of that. What's done is done. Wishing for a different past won't change the present."
"But it hurts, Diana," Sansa confessed, her voice cracking. "I just wanted… I wanted someone to love me, to share my life with. Now, I'm trapped in this cold, lonely marriage. He doesn't even come to me at night anymore."
"I'm a queen in name only." She whispered sadly with her head down.
