Sansa had enjoyed the trip to Highgarden, even if it wasn't full of niceties since Daemon insisted on going quickly and without fuss, and she felt that she'd grown a little as a wife and a woman along the way. Of course, when Robb's raven had come to tell them to turn North, she'd felt a bit guilty at being excited about coming home again even if it was coming home to war.

She'd gotten ill on the road with a fortnight (at least) left to go and it was only after talking with some of the women and a maester who'd come from Riverrun that it wasn't flux or anything life threatening, just pregnancy, and she'd been relieved and delighted to tell her husband that news. She wished the baby had better timing and had waited to make her ill until they got to Winterfell but that wasn't to be. Still, Sansa insisted she'd ride in because she thought Daemon would expect it of her and frankly, as a Queen, she was riding in. She wasn't Cersei Lannister.

Winterfell was within sight and while Sansa isn't much of a rider, she's gotten better over the course of the trip and brings her horse up alongside Daemon's. "I've held up a good front here but if you want me to be present at any councils, I'm going to need rest. I think your son has protested everything I've put into my body the past two days. I'm riding in, though. I don't want you to think I'm weak."