The Little Wolf Girl held her thumb and forefinger almost together. "Respected Lady of Winterfell, I can ask for just a tiny bit less."
Lady Catelyn's lips pressed together as she watched the little wolf cub pretend to be obedient.
Sansa had never caused her trouble. The same was true of little Rickon, who had become obsessed with swordsmanship as he grew older. But her youngest daughter—the one before her—required constant vigilance, because she would occasionally deliver an unexpected "surprise."
After a pause, the Little Wolf Girl's mother slowly spoke. "Arya Stark, are you planning to run away from home?"
At her mother's questioning, the Little Wolf Girl immediately returned to her usual self. "No, I'm expanding Stark territory!"
Lady Catelyn stared for a while at her youngest daughter, whose face plainly said, You don't understand me. "So, you intend to occupy the King's lands?"
Arya paused. "Mother! It's not occupation! I'm protecting a region for the King!"
She turned her little face aside and muttered, "That is a knight's honor—"
Lady Catelyn reminded her, "At the very least, you are not yet the King's knight, Miss Arya Stark."
Ever since her father had dubbed her a female swordswoman of Winterfell, Arya had begun to dislike being called "Miss."
She preferred everyone to call her—Arya Swordswoman.
The Little Wolf Girl felt that her mother was mocking her, and her cheeks immediately puffed up. "Lady Stark, you're far too biased! You supported Sansa going to Riverrun, yet you're stopping me from pursuing the path of a knight!"
"Sansa will be fourteen in a few days—"
Lady Catelyn gazed at her youngest daughter. "And you, Arya Swordswoman, have only just turned eleven."
The Little Wolf Girl shouted, "Age doesn't represent everything! I'm already grown up!"
Watching her youngest daughter stomp her feet,