Myrcella sighed quietly. It seemed that her new friend knew nothing of importance about the new king. It didn't matter, she would find out soon firsthand anyway. The gates of Winterfell were looming ahead, with the grey direwolf banner proudly dancing in the wind. As they neared, she saw rows of heads impaled upon the spikes of the battlements. Her stomach twisted and dread rose within. House Stark lost a lot to her family. Would her head be adorning the gates too?