She saw red.

Arya squinted her old eyes to see better. The red-haired woman was dressed in a simple dress, exposing both her shoulders and arms with only a thin strap supporting the dress on her body. Despite the simplicity and the boldness in dressing, she knew it could only be one person, her stance never betrayed her.

Disguised as an old woman selling freshly baked bread, Arya almost didn't believe her eyes. Sansa was looking ahead on the Bravosi Sea, her back turned to Arya, so she couldn't be sure. She knew her sister must have married Joffrey, turned into a widow when he died, but it was only speculation. Little information reached her about Westeros and she never heard of Sansa's fate after the day their father was murdered.

The only thing she did know was that the North was destroyed by the undead. Many fled, however, to Essos. Arya couldn't believe the Dragon Queen would let Sansa go after taking King's Landing, she always thought that her sister had burned alongside Cersei. She knew Daenerys had taken her seat on the Iron Throne back to the Targaryen dynasty, but there were only ashes left. The undead ate away the whole country before the new Queen could pour fire on them. She was a heroine, only her prize was a destroyed land with rebels in every corner.

If Sansa was still alive when the Queen arrived, surely she died by dragon fire. These were only conjectures, however, for she forgone her last name to serve the Many-Faced God and detached herself completely from her old life.

To prove herself wrong, Arya walked unsure steps to the direction Sansa was, her cart of bread would give her enough reason to approach.

"Some bread, my lady?" She asked slowly, as an old woman would.

When Sansa finally turned around, Arya was almost blinded by the crystal blue eyes she had always had. Sansa was even more beautiful than she remembered. Her auburn hair fell a little on her shoulder and she smiled so earnestly that Arya couldn't help but smile back.

What surprised Arya, though, was not the revealing dress she wore, nor the cheap fabric it was made of, but the huge bump on her belly. She was pregnant. Sansa was with child in Braavos and she had no idea that her younger sister was in front of her.

"Anders!" She called bringing Arya back from her reverie. "Do you want some bread, love?" Her eyes followed a young child, around four, playing with the pigeons in the Bravosi coast, not far from them.

"Yes, mama!" The boy answered excitedly. He was fair skinned, but his hair was dark, not red or blond the way she imagined her sister's children would be.

"Can I sit with you, my lady?" Arya asked, feigning tiredness.

"Of course." She answered with a kind smile that Arya had never seen on Sansa's lips.

Sansa ate her bread and Anders, her child, fed the pigeons rather than ate his.

"My husband will pay for the bread. Would you wait only a moment?" Sansa told her and Arya nodded sympathetically. She wanted to meet that husband of hers.

"You're from here, my lady?"

"I'm from Westeros." Sansa answered calmly, stroking her own belly.

Arya wanted to ask more, but before she opened her mouth, she heard the boy shouting "Papa!" and ran towards the man.

She could not believe her eyes. It was Jon. Her heart beat fast, and she felt sweat on her forehead. Arya thought she was going to faint when his eyes met hers. He smiled as kindly as Sansa had before and she wanted to run to him, reveal herself as their sister.

But she couldn't. Not when she saw Sansa getting up from her seat to press a hand on Jon's arm affectionately. "Jon, we have to pay the lady." She said low, almost a whisper. He looked at Arya again and saw the bread she was selling, he turned his head back to their sister, handing her a small purse of coins.

This was her husband? Their brother?

"This one is free, my lady, my lord." Arya said numbly. She thought they would insist, she knew the Starks were too honorable to take something from an old woman. But to her surprise, Sansa only took the purse back into Jon's pocket.

"Thank you." She said carefully. Arya knew more than most how it was to live with very little. She never imagined she would see Sansa thankful for saving only a couple of copper coins, but times were so different now.

Arya saw when Jon rested his hand on the small of Sansa's back, curling his fingers on her waist. "Let's go home?" He asked simply, with a familiarity that only a husband has with his wife. "Yes." She said, smiling. A secret smile only lovers shared.

She couldn't see more. Arya felt like an intruder, knowing they were siblings, that they lived as husband and wife but shared a parent.

The old woman nodded them goodbye and Arya only looked back once. She saw Sansa holding Jon's hand, while he held their child's, walking home.

Turning her head forward once again, she remembered she had no siblings. She had no family, for she was No One. Devoted to the Many-Faced God, and she had a mission. A basket of poisoned bread separated from the others, waiting the perfect opportunity to strike.