Sansa had been waiting for Joffrey all night. He'd said to be ready. Little did he know just how seriously she'd taken him.
She was sitting on the bed, their bed, waiting for his nightly visit. He'd come, sit on the bed, unclothe, then depending on if he'd had a good day or a bad day he'd either get into bed and go right to sleep or he'd climb on top of her and try in a lame attempt to get her with child. During that time, she'd lay there with her head turned to the side, unmoving, and her eyes fixated on the wall – thinking up all the ways she could kill him.
Tonight though – tonight was going to be different. So here she sat, on the bed waiting for him …. with a dagger in her hand and revenge in her heart.