Lady Johanna stood before the mirror in her chambers, her fingers expertly adjusting the straps of her armor. The armor was decorated golden with both lions and seashells honoring her as both a Westerling and Lannister. The gleaming plate, heavy and strong, was a striking contrast to the delicate, elegant gowns she typically wore. But these were dire times, and the westerlands needed a lioness, not a lady.

She took one final glance at her reflection—dark hair pulled back tightly, the gold seashells of her Westerling origin subtly woven into her circlet and nodded to herself. She was ready.

The door to her chambers creaked open, and the captain of her household guard, stepped inside. His gaze immediately fell upon her attire, and his eyes widened with surprise. It was rare for a noblewoman, let alone the Lady of Casterly Rock, to take to the field, let alone don armor herself.

Johanna turned to face him, her expression unwavering, the weight of her duty heavy on her shoulders. She saw his sceptical look and raised an eyebrow. "Arent scared of a woman in mail, are you? Only our enemies should be."

She picked up her sword. A gift her brother gave her on her wedding day. "We will strike while they are unprepared to push them back to the sea."