"There hasn't been a Septa at Winterfell since I managed to drive the old one off," Lya said. It was a point of personal pride. A battle won against high pitch rants, corsets and skirts and lines. Though she did have the old cow to thank for her handwriting, she supposed, which had been perfected through endless lines.
"I shall have to make a point to talk to Toria about it later then, or my Goodbrother's pet sellsword. Too much time and the problems will leave with her," she said. Lya had no intention of doing that. And her Goodsister seemed intent to ignore it.