The court was a mystery to me at the time. You might say I led a perfect life. The very picture of a princess – blonde haired, blue eyed, a young child with rosy cheeks after playing outside. It seemed I was always happy back then, a ball of giggles, my mother would say. I used to feel that nothing could go wrong – that is, until my baby brother died.

I was eight. My mother had just given birth to a sickly young boy. He was a month early. He died just two hours after his birth. They say I cried for hours, longer than my poor mother.

Even though Evan was tiny and frail, he was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen. When I first placed my hand on my mother's stomach, I felt this surge of love wash over me. Love for my baby brother. It was an instant connection. And when I looked into his eyes, I swear to this day that he was trying to tell me something important.

From then on, I withdrew into myself. I know it caused my poor mother even more heartache to see me like that, but I could not seem to help my sulking. I began to spend most of my time in my rooms or in the library. I chose to ignore the tutors my father tried to force upon me. As soon as they showed me the letters and sounded them out for me, I taught myself how to read. I would spend hours poring over texts. They gave up pretty quickly, working on something else alongside me until my father found out and brought someone else in. By the time I was twelve, he had given up. By then, I had worked my way through what felt like half of the library. Luckily, it was never ending. New books were constantly being brought in. Maybe because that was all my parents could interest me in – written words.

A/N: I hope to have the first chapter up soon. Please review and leave your opinions, good or bad. Constructive criticism would be much appreciated! I don't plan to publish this story in book form; writing this is for pure fun and to test the waters, so to speak, and see whether people like my original writing (I also have some fan fiction posted on ).