Gwynivere was the people’s princess. It was just that simple.

Her father was a well loved King, he was kind and fair, his wife, a beauty from foreign lands, was favoured in the court and in the streets. So when they had a daughter with her mothers dark hair, her fathers pale flesh and emerald eyes, they praised her and accepted her. She was not shy, well, not afraid to adventure in court and use the time to interact with people as a small child of 5 years, at least, until her mother fell ill and passed. From that moment, her father, King Brynmor grew overly protective of her.

Education became paramount, from politics to religion, history and literature, she was kep within the walls of the castle, her movements limited and even moreso, the people she interacted with. But one of her favourites was her fathers friend Garrion. He brought her trinkets and books from different lands, he told her wild tales and gave her candy from exotic places. Treating her like the child she was, not the queen she would become.

But she had been so innocent then, before the start of the campaign, the war... not that she was allowed to call it that, but she was not naive enough to ignore it.. not anymore. 8 years. 8 years he had been gone, Garrion, her fathers closest friend was fighting for the kingdom, and she was learning how to embroider, how to write elegantly, how to articulate herself perfectly, how to argue without raising her voice. There were days she felt useless, but as time passed, routine fell into place, she fell into her place and she grew used to it.

Somewhere along the way, she had grown into a woman, standing at 5’9 she was tall for these lands but average for her mother’s of the west. Her body was envied by the women of her court, from the long, raven black locks that fell in curls around her shoulders and back, to her small, elegant feet that slid easily into exotic shoes. In between she had luscious, rounded hips that promised strong babes, a slender waist that demanded to be held and a full glorious bust that was barely contained by the bustiers that she wore.