"Mother, why can't I ride my horse?" Miranna mumbled incoherently. "Why must I stay in the wheelhouse whilst we enter Winterfell?"

"Because my sweet. Images must be kept. Even with these northerners." Cersei responded with a proud smile.

Miranna was used to the little jests at the northerners as well as the small lessons she would be taught about being a lady. "But as you said mother, they're just northerners." She said. "Why does it matter?"

"Because daughter," Cersei continued, "People talk."

"But I'll be lady-like." Miranna said. "I vow it."

"How can you make riding a horse lady-like?" Cersei quirked and amused eyebrow.

"Well… I'm not sure." Miranna replied, downtrodden and quite sad. "Sorry mother."

Miranna wished she had been able to ride into the castle on her mare with a bright smile, like the knights in stories, but according to her mother, anything a man does cannot be lady-like.

"It's alright child. Just remember to smile." Cersei put her hand under Miranna's chin and lifted it, waiting for her to put on the bright smile she used when at the tourneys her father arranged.

Miranna was staring into Cersei's eyes, emerald green clashing with stormy blue. Miranna held almost no viable features in common with her mother, other than her cheekbones and lips. The rest was almost symmetrical to her fathers. Black hair that was so curly that it took her hand maidens almost an hour to tame into a simple braid as well as her blue eyes. She was the exact opposite of her twin brother, Joffrey, how took after their mother. From the thick eyelashes to the deep green irises. It seemed almost impossible for them to be from the same womb, as all the rest of Miranna's siblings also took after their mother, with not a single trace of their father in them.

Miranna was quick to delve into a conversation with her younger brother, Tommen, about how excited they were to get to Winterfell. Tommen spoke about odds and ends, and Miranna followed along as best she could, as Tommen and Myrcella, her sister, were the only form of entertainment she had in the rattling wheelhouse. They had been traveling north for so long that Miranna lost count on day four. They had been on the Kingsroad, stopping at inns and on the side of the road. Everyone was weary from the trip and the sight of Winterfell was almost as if the Old Gods and the new had answered all their prayers.

For a majority of the trip, Miranna had ridden her mare, Wildfire, next to her two uncles, Tyrion and Jaime. Jaime was kind to her, but for some reason, she felt as if he was uncomfortable around her. As for Tyrion, he would make jokes and snide comments about the people around them, making her snicker and giggle and sometimes even snort.

Miranna was quite short, even for a girl of two and ten. She was slender and had no muscle what so ever on her bones. She wore a thick woollen dress that matched the colour of her eyes and a cloak with a coarse, white fox pelt, braid coming over her shoulder, resting on the pelt and landing just above her waist.

Her hair was one of her favourite things about herself. "Do you think I could ride Wildfire tomorrow?" Miranna looked over to her mother, hopeful. "I'll behave. I'll even go with Sandor if it pleases you." Myrcella sat up straight.

"Mother you can't let her! I have to do sewing tomorrow morning and I don't want to be left alone!" She practically squealed. Disappointment painted Miranna's face as she saw Cersei nod at Myrcella and give her a stern look.

Miranna couldn't spit a word as the movement of the wheelhouse had halted. Miranna slipped behind Cersei silently. Miranna was often told by Cersei that she would be the death of her, as she was constantly silently tripping over something. It didn't help that she wore boots without heels, making it near impossible to know she was behind her.

As she stepped out of the wheelhouse, she caught the eyes of someone she couldn't quite see through the shoulders of the Stark family. She squeaked when her cloak got caught on the edge of the door on the wheelhouse, resulting in her to stumble over her own feet, and almost knock over Cersei. However, she caught herself in time to glimpse the smirks of amusement from those around her as well as Eddard Stark kneeling to kiss Cersei's ring and Robert squeezing the life out Catelyn Stark.

As soon as the children were introduced and formalities were completed, Robert had demanded of their host, "Take me down to your crypt Eddard. I would pay my respects."

Cersei had went to protest, as they had been riding for long enough for everyone's bones to be chilled and their eyes weary, but she didn't get much in before Robert gave her a look and Jaime had taken her by the arm.

Miranna looked on as her father and mother went off in their separate directions, not sparing the other a look. She wasn't blind to the obvious hate for each other that they had, but defiantly had not a lick of an idea of why. She had seen how they treated other over the year and could only wish when she was married off that her husband respected her enough to treat her properly. It was hard to find someone like that in this sort of time, she knew, but if worst came to worst she could always run off to Essos and become a merchant. Tyrion had told her once that she could make iron worth as much as gold with her cheekbones if she wished.

As of that moment though, she didn't need to sell iron, no, but an escort. Everyone who was important or familiar had vanished into thin air, including her siblings, making her resort to looking around hopelessly for someone who might know where her chambers were located. When she spotted a boy who appeared to be around her age, and the least intimidating.

"Excuse me. My name is Miranna. I was wondering if you might be able to point out where I might find someone who could show me to my chambers." She inquired stiffly. He looked down at her and did a once over. "Why're you asking me, My Lady?"

Miranna stared back at him confusedly and squinted her eyes slightly, completely ignoring the title he had given her. Why wouldn't she ask him? It's not like she had a large selection of other people to ask who didn't look like they could chop her arm of with a sweep of their gaze. They were almost as scary The Mountain, some even seemed to be as tall as him to.

"Well, why not?" She said. "You're about as good as any."

The boy snorted and seemed quietly humoured by her statement. This made her increasingly confused. What was that supposed to mean? Did she offend him? Was he a squire or even a steward, but she herself was completely unaware of his status or family name. She hoped she didn't offend him.

"If you knew my name you'd be saying otherwise." He didn't seem like much of a talker and so Miranna filled in the gaps that he made with words of her own. "Well, maybe if you told me this seemingly horrible name so I can say otherwise. And anyway, you seem to know my name." She crossed her arms over her chest and leaned on one leg, waiting. "Jon, My Lady."

Miranna thought for a moment. "That doesn't seem very shameful." She said. "It's just as ordinary as any other."

"Jon Snow, My Lady. Bastard of Lord Eddard Stark, Warden in the North" The humour that once graced his eye a moment ago disappeared instantly. He was waiting, for what she wasn't sure. Maybe he was waiting for her to turn her nose up and disappear into the castle.

Finally when she had realised what he was waiting for, she raised her eyebrows. "Are you finished?" She asked. "Now, can you or can you not show me to my chambers? And if not, could you possibly find me someone who can?"

"Are you sure you want a bastard escorting you to your chambers, My Lady." His voice suddenly produced sound, and he looked her in the eyes. "I'm a disgrace."

"I would say no but it seems you're my only choice." She said "I suppose you'll have to do."

Shame covered his face and she giggled quietly. "Father was right about Northerners not having a very good sense of humor."