Shireen Baratheon had been alone most of her life. Greyscale marked her life far harder than it marked her face. Everyone avoided her like the plague or looked down on her with pity. Her mother never really spent much time with her. Her father was much the same, as she knew Stannis inwardly wished she was a boy instead of a girl. Her own Septa, which was supposed to educate her, had only shown dislike and thinly veiled disgust. Oh, none had dared to do or say anything against the daughter of Stannis Baratheon, but Shireen had seen through all the masks and expressions.