She looked at the sword with wonder in her eyes.  她惊讶地盯着剑，

　　For a moment she was afraid to touch it, afraid that if she reached for it it would be snatched away again,  半晌都不敢碰，生怕自己一伸手剑又被拿走。

　　but then her father said, Go on, it's yours, and she took it in her hand. 只听父亲说：拿啊，这是你的了。她这才伸手接过。

　　I can keep it? she said. For true? 我可以留着吗？她问。真的吗？

　　For true. He smiled. If I took it away, no doubt I'd find a morningstar hidden under your pillow within the fortnight.  真的。他微笑着说。我要是把它给拿走了，只怕没两个星期就会在你枕头下找到流星锤罢。

　　Try not to stab your sister, whatever the provocation. 算啦，无论你多生气，别拿剑刺你姐姐就好。

　　I won't. I promise. Arya clutched Needle tightly to her chest as her father took his leave. 我不会，我保证不会。艾莉亚紧紧地把缝衣针抱在胸前，目送父亲离去。

　　The next morning, as they broke their fast, she apologized to Septa Mordane and asked for her pardon.  隔天吃早饭时，她向茉丹修女道歉，并请求原谅。

　　The septa peered at her suspiciously, but Father nodded. 修女狐疑地看着她，但父亲点了点头。

　　Three days later, at midday, her father's steward Vayon Poole sent Arya to the Small Hall.  隔天吃早饭时，她向茉丹修女道歉，并请求原谅。

　　The trestle tables had been dismantled and the benches shoved against the walls.  餐桌业已拆除，长凳也推至墙边，小厅里空荡荡的。

　　The hall seemed empty, until an unfamiliar voice said, You are late, boy.  突然，有个陌生的声音说：小子，你迟到了。

　　A slight man with a bald head and a great beak of a nose stepped out of the shadows, holding a pair of slender wooden swords.  然后一个身形清癯，生着鹰钩大鼻的光头男子从阴影里走出来，手里握着一对细细的木剑。

　　Tomorrow you will be here at midday. He had an accent, the lilt of the Free Cities, Bravos perhaps, or Myr. 从明天起你正午就必须到。他说话带着口音，像是自由贸易城邦的腔调，可能是布拉佛斯，或是密尔。

　　Who are you? Arya asked. 你是谁？艾莉亚问。