“During my younger years, I was raised by a nurse that worked for the harem. My father’s guests always commented on how I was one of the prettiest daughters (all of his daughters were named Guinevere).
“Me and two of my sisters were picked among all of the children of the harem by the king and were to be with our father during parties and special events as mere objects, conversational pieces. But we were treated better and wore beautiful clothing, better than the simple dresses for the girls and women of the harem. It was the life of luxury that any princess could possibly want.”
“Is that the youngest?” a woman pointed at the white princess.
“Yes, but she’s ghostly white compared to her sisters,” another woman replied.
“There’s no doubt as to who her mother really is, it’s one of the wenches, Lily,” a third woman pointed at a woman in rags who looked just like the white princess.
“Lily, my blood mother was the most beautiful person I had ever seen until I had come to the Grove. She looked just like your mother, Zak. Her hair was snow white, her face was kind and perfect, and the funniest things came through my mother’s pink lips. I didn’t meet her until much later, after my life of luxury had ended.”
“That’s when Argost came in, right?” Doyle’s voice pierced the story.
“Yes, that’s when my life turned into a whirlpool of chaos. Argost was my father’s advisor. He was the one that advised the king to use us princesses to please guests for the king’s personal gains. Argost was the one who hatched up this wild, stupid plan to take the kingdom by marrying me.
“Why me? Why not my other sisters? He accused me of being a witch, a friend of faerie, a forest dweller. Oh, you should have heard the lies! My sisters heard it through the door as my father commenced the meeting inside his large hall. How could Argost accuse me of all these things when I have never even taken a step out of this palace? Of course, everyone but my father agreed that I was a witch and that evening, I would be burned at the stake.
“My sisters and I found our way through a secret passage into my father’s room and consoled him. He did love us as he was crying over my funeral but love us for what, I do not know. I was terrified when they tied me to the stake. I saw Argost in the crowd, smiling at me. Little did I know that he planned to free me and take me away, but someone else beat him to it.”
“Hold on, Guinevere. Fisk needs to go use the bathroom,” Zak told her, pointing to Fisk who was moving around, trying to hold himself.
“Alright,” Guinevere smiled and Fisk raced to the bathroom in her room.
“I’ll cut off his head for doing that to you,” Doyle vowed, clenching his fists. Guinevere gave him a warm smile as Fisk came back and sat down, mumbling for her to continue.
“They had just begun the fire when a flash of lightning struck the ground before me and the magician appeared.”
Mademoiselle Violette Community Member 
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