Murmurs of a fight reached Shiraâ€™s ears, and it wasnâ€™t long before she discovered it was not a true fight, but a scheduled match between the Queen herself and her weapons master.  Shira made her way towards the square where the fencing match would be held, shouldering through thick crowds as she drew near.  Finding a place where she could see adequately well- the good spots were all already occupied- she crossed her arms and watched the Queen accept a sword, noticing the quality of the blade even from the not inconsiderable distance.  The woman must know what sheâ€™s doing, if sheâ€™s partaking in a battle before all these people, against a man who should be one of the better swordsmen in the area, judging by his position.<br/><br/>Glancing around the crowd, she scanned for potential threats- a habit beaten into her since childhood which, honestly, wasnâ€™t all that far behind her.  She was painfully aware of that, and loathed, in those times when she did speak up, and someone would say that, young as she was, she didnâ€™t know what she was talking about.  It was generally in those situations that she lost her temper and wreaked havoc on those who got in her way, something that happened more than she wanted it to.<br/><br/>Eyes flitting over the crowd, she couldnâ€™t help but think that this festival thing might not be for her.  Too many people, jostling her, talking loudly, and too many weapons.  She was exposed, in the open, and the joyous mood irked her a bit.  She had always lived in the shadows, training constantly, fighting- the sort of life the people here lived wasnâ€™t something she could understand.