[sansa's eyebrows lift. she has come close to sending her omen after paul with an invitation to tea more than once. if I needed an escort, I'd never get anywhere.]

I would like to see you again before my own nameday, which is [she makes a little show of counting out eight fingers] eight months and seventeen days from now.

[assuming the number of days in the months are the same, which they probably aren't. but she smiles.]

I should be glad to accommodate your busy schedule of contemplating mysteries.