Daphne Greyjoy was the youngest head of one of the Great Houses, only a little younger than Neville Arryn. She stood on the steps of Dunluce Castle with her head held high and hands folded daintily over the other. She was truly as beautiful as the stories had said she was - long blonde hair (maybe a shade or two more gold than Fleur’s own) with bright grey eyes that looked more like the foam on the top of waves than the storm clouds that they had been rumoured to be.