The sun was already setting, and Sansa dismissed Alys and Myrcella before quickly making her way to her cosy room. After entering, she tiredly sank into the tapered chair next to the hearth and basked in the warmth of the crackling flames. Sansa actually planned to try and rework one gown to make Arya a fur-lined riding dress but was too exhausted to start right now. It had taken her quite a while, but she realised a big part of Arya's problems with being dressed like a "proper lady" was that most of those clothes were not very comfortable or practical and were made purely for looks. While a fur-lined riding gown was not exactly what a noble lady would wear daily, it was better than a pair of breeches and a tunic. Sansa's eyes were drooping, and her eyelids were becoming heavier by the moment. Maybe a short nap wouldn't hurt?