[it takes a concerted effort not to smile with familiarity at sharon's antics. instead sansa scoops up the commemorative chips with one hand and grasps ice with the other, alowing herself to stand up somewhat awkwardly under the weight of the sword. the valyrian steel makes it lighter than it looks, but something like five pounds is still a lot for sansa to carry with one hand, and its massive size makes it unwieldy. lady also stands up; she's small for a direwolf, but big by any other canine metric, something like four foot ten at the shoulders. the crowd steps back.

sansa beams at sharon; it isn't quite her usual smile. she tries to keep all amusement out of her face.]

Thank you, that's very kind.

[she glances between sharon and the crowd.]

I shouldn't like to be the cause of anyone fighting, so I'll leave you to your games. I never liked them overmuch, anyway.

[she assumes the moss king's watching, so that last part's for him. and back to sharon:]

Would you care to escort me away from here, kind guardswoman?

[ezra, the escort she came with, is presumably nearby, but he can meet her outside. she trusts that he won't get into fights; she's more concerned about sharon.]