His words hit her with surprising gravity. They were outcasts and exiles, every last one of them. From Daenerys herself to Tyrion and absolutely everyone in between. They'd made choices that brought them to Winterfell. Perhaps the wrong choices, but they had all come together in the end to defeat something far bigger and older than them.

It didn't hurt to notice that those who had gathered in the dragon pit to choose a new king had mostly been close to her own age, either. They were young adults who had lived most of their lives in peace, and longed for it. The elder generation had thrived in wars, unsure what to do with peace. Now with so few of them left, it was time to return to that peace.

"I don't suppose they do. But when our songs are sung and stories told, they will learn."