Sansa shakes her head, a bit sad. "The Gods don't care about Starks anymore, Lyanna. There's hardly any of us left, just myself and Jon, and Jon's only half Stark to begin with. The Gods have made me a Lannister's bride, cloaked in crimson, and now a Bolton's bride complete with flayed skin."

There's a mark on the inside of her thigh where Ramsay had stripped the skin from her for giving him cheek. Sansa had given him more the next day; she's always been a slow learner.