I've been writing this story since I was in seventh grade. Please review

The room was cold and drafty. In the corner, there stood a wooden bed, dressed in a rich crimson bedspread made of silk. The rest of the room was decorated lavishly, with expensive rugs and artwork and fine crafted furniture. But even the most beautiful item in that room could not compare to what was standing in the center of the room.

Her hair matched the colors of the crisp autumn leaves falling to the ground on this late September morning. Her eyes matched the bluest ocean to be seen for miles, and her skin was the color of fresh milk. Her name was Guinevere.

She walked over to the window sill, and watched the Duke and his family leaving. She heard the hoof beats of the beautiful hunters on the cobblestones of the drive and as she watched, and her right eye shed a single tear. He sat high on his dark, vigorous stallion. He was gone. And worst of all, nobody knew. And nobody ever would know.

Her family would ponder as to why she was so sad. Her father suggested that it was because Arian, an old horse of hers had died. But what did he know? Her mother and her sister suggested that since the summer was over, she was upset because she had to sit inside, beside the fire, embroidering and sewing. But they were half right. The summer of my thirteenth year was over, and someone very dear to her heart had left her.

2 years later

"These are my daughters, your majesty," my father said proudly, I was only half listening, "the fairer one is named Guinevere, she is the prettier and cleverer of the two," I picked my eyes up from off the floor and curtsied to the young, handsome King Arthur. Although he had been traveling for days, was visibly dirty, and smelled, he was the most handsome man I had ever seen. He had deep green eyes and light brown hair with streaks of copper. His skin was as creamy as silk and he was tall, he towered way above me, but I had not yet finished growing; I was small for fifteen. "And that's Meghan," my father said and motioned towards my older sister, who only succeeded me by ten months.

"Come mi'lady, Princess Guinevere, please grace me with your presence." The handsome king said, and I fell weak in the knees. I glanced over at my father for approval, and he nodded, then I looked at my older sister Meghan, who gazed at me with pure jealousy. My father was right; I was the fairer of the two. I had long lustrous golden red hair, and big blue-green eyes, I was curvaceous and bright while Meghan was pudgy and had a sharp, unattractive face. Although she had the same beautiful hair as me, she did not have the same beautiful eyes as me; her eyes were hard and grey and filled with sorrow. I was the cleverer as well, I had excelled in my subjects and learning, while Meghan was slow and struggled. But Meghan, unlike I, was friendly and outgoing, while I was shy and quiet and modest.

"As you wish sire," I replied. He stood in front of his legendary knights; Lancelot, Bedivere, Percival, Gawain, Tristam. I stepped towards him and he took my hand and brought it to his lips. I smirked at Meghan, and although she smiled graciously when the king looked her way, I saw that her eyes were filled with resentment.

The king did not let go of my hand, but he led me from the Great Hall of Knucklass Castle into the gardens. I was confused, for he was wearing his armor for battle. I saw a glistening sword encrusted with magnificent jewels against his livery. I suppose he saw me looking at it, for he pulled it out and held it up to the sunlight. He told me it was a very special sword, called Excalibur, which he had pulled from an enchanted rock. He told me the story of it, and I listened as though I had never heard the story before, although I had many a time. He said the sword was enchanted, and it had special power. He let me touch it and hold it, and I saw a beautiful design set into the sword that I had not noticed before. I smiled up at him in delight, and he smiled too. I handed it back to him quickly, for I was afraid something would happen from this magic sword if I held it for too long.

"I am very pleased by you, Guinevere," he said to me.

"As I am with you, your majesty," I replied.

"Please, call me Arthur. I am still yet not used to being called king. Lancelot, my dearest friend and bravest knight, makes fun of me for it constantly."

I chuckled. "Tell me about Lancelot," I said.

"All right," he paused. "Well, when I became king, I was twelve. Lancelot, the son of a nobleman, was exactly my age, and his father was assigned to guide me, or be my mentor. As young as I was, I had different views to ruling a country than Lancelot's father did. It caused controversy which Lancelot found hilarious. Before I had always thought him as arrogant, until we ran off together in the middle of a meeting to play in the woods. Lancelot and I were scorned and we have been best friends ever since that day.

"He is quite foolish sometimes, but he is also very clever. You will meet him tonight at dinner, actually." He finished.

"Well I'm looking forward," I said.

As we were walking through the gardens, he would stop at each rosebush and pick the most beautiful rose from each one, and he weaved them into a crown. He was telling me all about his battle he had recently won with the help of my father, the King of Glen. He tied the last rose onto the flower crown, and then connected it. He turned to me, and placed the crown of roses carefully on my head and he placed his hand under my chin and gently pushed my face upwards toward him, close enough, as if to kiss me. He let go and he lightly swept his hand against my cheek and said, "Now, my Princess, tell me about yourself."

"I would not care to bore you, my handsome Prince, for my life is not full of adventure and peril as yours has been." I looked down to the floor in shyness, and he again picked up my face towards him and he kissed me tenderly on the lips. My heart fluttered from the kiss and expanded to my stomach, through my legs and finally down to my feet where I felt I was floating. I smiled at him.

"Guinevere, you are still young and beautiful. I am young too, but I have suffered a great deal of hardships and been through many dangerous battles and I am soon to be seventeen, however it is my job," the king said. I nodded. The sun began to set and a cool breeze sent a shiver down my spine. "Dusk is falling, let me escort you back to the castle," he said. He took my hand and I watched the sun go down in warm tones of red, pink and gold as this handsome king holding my hand.