Were Nancy privileged enough to know her fate, she would relate a decent amount to Ned Stark. Murdered as a traitor, by the one person she never betrayed.

She nods solemnly. "I'm sorry to hear that. It must be a terrible thing, to lose a parent." She'd never known hers, as far as she was aware. And the man she'd come to see as a father, well, she only felt moderately bad about that betrayal.

"Pleasure, Mr. Snow." She nods. "Your sister, I believe- the Queen-- does that make you Prince? Or- or King?" She barely knew how titles of nobility worked in her world, let alone in Westeros. Not knowing if he would feel the same as Sansa did about her title here, she sweeps into a curtsey.