"That's Arya Stark of Winterfell, my lord."
Tywin Lannister remembered Petyr Baelish's words with perfect clarity. They brought a wave of both triumph and frustration. Triumph, because they now held another bargaining chip in this war—two Stark girls instead of one. Frustration, because he hadn't seen it himself.
He knew she was from the North. Her speech and education made it obvious she was a highborn girl, and he knew she was running from something. All the pieces were there, but he'd been too focused on her damned brother and his army to put them together.
Arya Stark, right under my nose, he thought. I wonder if she's been reading our letters.
She was a clever girl, posing as a commoner, traveling as a boy, and keeping her head down. But she was just a little too clever for her own good, and it showed. It made her stand out. If she were any other northern girl, he might have let her slip by unnoticed.
But not Arya Stark.
"You wouldn't have known, of course," Littlefinger continued smoothly. "You've never met the girl, or any of the Stark children for that matter."
"No," Tywin confirmed.
"Shall I bring her to you?" Littlefinger offered. "I can arrange for—"
"No," Tywin cut him off. "She'll be along shortly. I'll handle her then. I can handle this on my own."
Lord Baelish gave a slight bow of his head. "I'll leave it to you then. In the meantime, I shall go to Highgarden to negotiate with the Tyrells."
"Good," Tywin said. "Make sure they declare for no one but King Joffrey."
He didn't act on Littlefinger's information right away. He wanted to see how well the girl could lie when put to the test. He started asking her questions, prodding her, waiting for her to give herself away.
"If you're going to pose as a commoner, you should do it properly."
"My mother served Lady Dustin for many years, my lord. She taught me how to speak proper—properly."
She was a quick liar, but her lies were easy to see through. She reminded him of Cersei in her youth—daring, proud, and utterly disdainful of the role society had laid out for her. But as the daughter of a great house, there was little she could do to escape it.
He let her play her little game for a while longer, watching her, until the winds of war shifted and it was time to march from Harrenhal.
As his generals left the room to give their orders, Arya began to slip away with the other servants. Tywin stopped her.
"Girl. Come here a moment."