For a short moment, Shireen imagined herself with a sword in her hand, fighting against the men. But the image looked comical even in her mind and she quickly banished it. She disliked fighting, and the thought of hitting someone made her feel queasy. Her father had raised her as his heir and Shireen knew her duty well, it was not to swing a weapon. Even with Stannis Baratheon gone and his lands lost, she knew that she had to marry eventually, as all women did, instead of endlessly leeching off the King's hospitality. Maybe she would become a lady-in-waiting to the next Northern Queen and she would find her a good match.