Your master worked in a city; cities, even in times of peace, need a tremendous amount of steel. She held her tongue. There was once a time when she thought things of such little consequence that she never feared to share them. But lately, her thoughts were complex and often treasonous. Sansa had to keep her own counsel on many a subject.

"Certainly; I apologize. If I disparaged your master or you, it was not my intention." Men have risked skins for gold pieces for centuries. Her true thoughts slipped between the cracks of the stilted courtesy she wielded like a shield. "I have nothing but tremendous respect for the craftsmen of all Seven Kingdoms."

I wonder if your master made metal sing for Lannister soldiers; for Kingsguard; for the King's Justice.