From the moment Arthuria was born, her presence brought a joyful light to Camelot. With her golden curls that bounced with every step and her bright, curious green eyes, she was the embodiment of innocence and charm. Her laughter, high-pitched and bubbly, often filled the castle halls, spreading smiles wherever she went.

At three years old, Arthuria was a delightful child, known for her playful nature and boundless energy. One day, she was playing in the castle garden, her small hands busy picking daisies to make a crown. She ran over to her mother, Queen Igraine, holding the slightly lopsided flower crown above her head.

"Mama, wook! I made dis for you!" Arthuria exclaimed, her eyes wide with excitement, her speech adorably jumbled with her baby pronunciations.

Igraine chuckled softly, kneeling down to accept the crown. "Thank you, my darling. It’s beautiful," she said, placing it delicately on her head. "But I think it would look even better on you."

Arthuria giggled, shaking her head vigorously. "No, no, Mama! It’s for you! You da queen, so you need da pwettiest cwown!" She pronounced each word carefully, her tiny hands gesturing animatedly.

Uther, who had been watching from a distance, approached with a grin. "What’s this? A princess of Camelot playing in the dirt?" he teased, his voice booming with affection.

Arthuria ran to him, her small arms outstretched. "Dada! Wook at my fwower! Do you wike it?" she asked, her voice full of anticipation.

Uther lifted her into his arms, his stern features softening as he looked at his daughter. "It’s a fine flower, Arthuria. Fit for a future queen," he said, kissing her forehead.

Arthuria blushed, her cheeks turning a rosy pink. "Dada, you’re so siwwy!" she giggled, leaning into his touch. "But I wike it."

As Arthuria grew, she remained the apple of everyone’s eye in Camelot. She loved to dance and twirl in the grand hall, her laughter echoing off the stone walls. She had a way of brightening even the darkest days, whether it was by offering a spontaneous hug to a guard or sharing her toys with the children of the castle staff.

When Arthuria turned five, her parents decided it was time for her to have a personal servant to attend to her needs and guide her. They chose Cassandra, a gentle and kind-hearted girl of sixteen who had grown up in the castle. From the moment Cassandra entered Arthuria’s life, they formed an inseparable bond.

Now speaking more clearly, Arthuria’s curiosity and friendliness were even more charming. She loved asking questions and sharing her thoughts, no matter how big or small.

One evening, as Cassandra was helping Arthuria prepare for bed, Arthuria looked up at her with bright, inquisitive eyes. "Cassie, can you tell me a story?" she asked, her voice clear and earnest.

Cassandra smiled, tucking the blankets around Arthuria. "Of course, Princess Arthuria. What kind of story would you like tonight?"

Arthuria thought for a moment, her brows furrowed in concentration. "I want a story about a brave princess who saves the kingdom with her magic," she declared, her excitement evident.

Cassandra nodded, beginning the tale. As she spoke, Arthuria’s eyes grew heavier, her small hand clutching Cassandra’s sleeve. "Cassie, do you think I could be a brave princess one day?" she murmured softly.

Cassandra gently brushed a curl away from Arthuria’s face. "I think you already are, Your Highness. You have a brave heart and a kind spirit. That’s all a princess needs."

Arthuria’s face broke into a soft smile as her eyes closed. "Thank you, Cassie. I’m glad you’re here," she whispered before drifting off to sleep.

As the days passed, Arthuria continued to grow, her speech becoming more confident and articulate. She was eager to learn and often asked her parents and Cassandra about Camelot’s history and the responsibilities of being a ruler.

One day, after listening to her father tell stories of the great kings and queens of the past, Arthuria approached him with a serious expression. "Father, do you think I can be a good queen like you and Mother?" she asked, her voice filled with sincerity.

Uther knelt down to her level, his gaze softening. "Arthuria, I believe you have everything it takes to be a great queen. You are kind, smart, and very brave. You have a big heart, and that’s what makes a true leader."

Arthuria beamed at her father’s words, her eyes sparkling with determination. "I’ll do my best, Father. I want to make you and Mother proud."

"You already do, my little warrior," Uther said, pulling her into a warm embrace. "And I know you always will."

As Arthuria approached her sixth birthday, her days in Camelot took on a new rhythm. No longer was she simply the adorable child of King Uther and Queen Igraine. She was now recognized as the heir to the throne, and with that recognition came new responsibilities. Her mornings began with lessons in reading and arithmetic, subjects that, at first, she found both fascinating and frustrating.

One morning, Arthuria sat in the study room, her small hands gripping a quill as she carefully traced letters onto parchment. Her tutor, a kindly man named Master Gareth, watched with patience as she struggled with a particularly tricky word.

“Why does ‘knight’ have a ‘k’ if you don’t say it?” Arthuria asked, her nose wrinkling in confusion.

Master Gareth chuckled softly. “The English language is full of peculiarities, Princess Arthuria. Some letters are silent, yet they remind us of the word’s origins.”

Arthuria tilted her head, still frowning at the word. “It’s silly,” she muttered, though there was no malice in her voice—only the genuine curiosity of a child trying to make sense of the world.

Gareth smiled, tapping the parchment gently. “Indeed, but it’s our task to learn these little mysteries, isn’t it? You’re doing very well, Arthuria. Soon enough, you’ll be reading all the great tales of Camelot with ease.”

Encouraged by his words, Arthuria redoubled her efforts, her quill scratching across the parchment with renewed determination. Cassandra, who was sitting nearby, stitching a small piece of embroidery, looked up and smiled at the sight of Arthuria’s focused expression.

“Master Gareth,” Arthuria asked after a few moments of silent writing, “will I have to write lots of letters when I’m queen?”

Gareth nodded, his eyes twinkling with amusement. “Indeed, Your Highness. A queen must correspond with many people—nobles, allies, and even those who may not always agree with her. Writing is a powerful tool, one that can build friendships or solve disputes.”

Arthuria’s eyes widened. “That sounds important. I’ll have to practice a lot more.”

Gareth smiled warmly. “You have plenty of time to learn, Princess Arthuria. And remember, you don’t have to do it all alone. You’ll have advisors and scribes to help you when the time comes.”

Arthuria looked thoughtful, her quill pausing mid-stroke. “But I want to be able to do it myself, too. So people know that I’m serious and that I care.”

Cassandra, her heart swelling with pride, set her embroidery aside and walked over to Arthuria. “You already show how much you care, Your Highness. And that’s what will make you a great queen someday.”

Arthuria beamed up at Cassandra, her earlier frustration forgotten. “Thank you, Cassie. I’ll keep practicing until I’m the best letter-writer in all of Camelot!”

As Arthuria’s academic lessons progressed, she also began learning about the responsibilities she would one day inherit. King Uther and Queen Igraine decided it was time for their daughter to observe the workings of the court. At first, Arthuria was thrilled at the idea of attending meetings with her father, imagining it to be a grand and exciting experience.

One afternoon, Uther invited Arthuria to sit in on a council meeting. The room was vast, with high ceilings and walls adorned with tapestries depicting Camelot’s history. The round table at the center was surrounded by advisors, knights, and lords, each with their own opinions and agendas. Arthuria took her seat beside her father, her feet barely touching the floor.

As the meeting began, Arthuria listened intently, her hands clasped in her lap. The discussion quickly became heated as the council debated the best way to allocate resources for the upcoming winter. Voices overlapped as arguments were made, each man convinced of his own solution. Arthuria’s eyes darted from one speaker to another, trying to follow the rapid exchange.

At one point, Lord Cedric, a stern and seasoned warrior, spoke with authority. "We must increase the levy on the northern provinces. They have had a bountiful harvest, and it is only fair that they contribute more to the kingdom’s needs."

"But what of the people?" Lady Morgana countered, her voice firm but measured. "They may have had a good harvest, but they have also faced harsh conditions. Increasing their taxes will only breed resentment."

The debate continued, and Arthuria found herself growing increasingly anxious. The weight of the decisions being made was palpable, and she couldn’t help but feel overwhelmed. She glanced up at her father, who sat calmly, listening to each argument with a thoughtful expression.

Finally, Uther raised his hand, and the room fell silent. "I appreciate the input from all sides," he began, his voice steady and commanding. "But we must consider the welfare of the entire kingdom. The northern provinces will contribute slightly more, but we will also ensure that their needs are met. This way, we maintain balance and fairness."

Arthuria watched as the advisors nodded in agreement, their earlier tension dissipating under her father’s firm leadership. After the meeting, Uther noticed the pensive look on Arthuria’s face.

"Arthuria, what did you think of the council meeting?" he asked gently.

Arthuria hesitated, then spoke quietly. "It was... complicated. Everyone had different ideas, and it seemed so hard to decide what was right."

This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.

Uther nodded, kneeling down to her level. "You’re right, it isn’t easy. Leading a kingdom means making difficult decisions that won’t always please everyone. But as long as you listen carefully, think of what’s best for all, and remain true to your values, you will find the right path."

Arthuria looked into her father’s eyes, feeling the weight of his words. "I want to be as wise as you, Father. But sometimes I’m afraid I won’t be good enough."

Uther placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. "You have a good heart, Arthuria, and that’s what matters most. You’re still young, and you have plenty of time to learn and grow. And remember, you’re not alone. We are all here to help you."

Arthuria nodded, feeling a bit more reassured. "I’ll keep trying, Father. I want to make you and Mother proud."

Arthuria’s relationship with Merlin also deepened during these years. The old sorcerer had always been a mysterious figure to the people of Camelot, but to Arthuria, he was like the grandfather she never had—full of wisdom, kindness, and a certain playful mischief that endeared him to her.

One afternoon, Arthuria found Merlin in the castle gardens, sitting on a stone bench beneath the shade of a large oak tree. His robes were dark and flowing, and he held a gnarled staff that hummed faintly with magical energy. Seeing him, Arthuria’s face lit up, and she skipped over to him.

“Merlin!” she called, her voice bright with excitement. “Are you busy? Can we talk?”

Merlin looked up from the scroll he was reading, his eyes twinkling. “Ah, Princess Arthuria, you’re just in time. I was about to take a break from all this reading. Come, sit with me.”

Arthuria climbed up onto the bench beside him, her legs swinging as she settled in. “What were you reading?” she asked, glancing at the ancient scroll in his hands.

Merlin smiled, rolling up the scroll carefully. “Oh, just some old spells and prophecies. Nothing as interesting as the stories I have for you.”

Arthuria’s eyes sparkled with anticipation. “Can you tell me a story about dragons? I love dragons!”

Merlin chuckled, his beard twitching with amusement. “Very well, a dragon story it is.” He leaned back, his voice taking on a deep, melodic tone as he began. “Long ago, in the farthest reaches of the earth, there lived a dragon named Draconis, who was known for his fierce strength and fiery breath…”

As Merlin spun his tale, Arthuria listened with rapt attention, her imagination bringing the story to life. She could almost see the mighty dragon soaring through the sky, its wings casting shadows over the land. She shivered with delight as Merlin described the dragon’s battles and the brave knights who sought to tame it.

When the story ended, Merlin reached into his robe and produced a small piece of candy, offering it to Arthuria with a conspiratorial wink. “For my favorite listener,” he said softly.

Arthuria giggled, taking the candy. “Thank you, Merlin! But don’t tell Cassie—I’m not supposed to have too many sweets.”

Merlin laughed, his eyes crinkling with mirth. “Our little secret,” he agreed.

As Arthuria unwrapped the candy and popped it into her mouth, Merlin’s expression grew thoughtful. “Arthuria,” he began, his tone more serious, “do you know why I tell you these stories?”

Arthuria looked up at him, her mouth full of candy. “’Cause they’re fun?”

Merlin smiled warmly. “Yes, they are fun. But they also hold lessons—lessons about bravery, kindness, and wisdom. These are the qualities of a great leader, which I see in you, my dear.”

Arthuria blushed, looking down shyly. “Do you really think so, Merlin?”

“I do,” Merlin replied, his voice filled with affection. “You are destined for greatness, Princess Arthuria. Never doubt that.”

Arthuria’s heart swelled with pride and a touch of embarrassment. “I’ll try my best, Merlin. I want to be a good queen, just like Mother and Father.”

Merlin nodded, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder. “And you will be. Just remember to always stay true to yourself and to listen to the wisdom of those around you.”

Arthuria smiled, feeling a sense of comfort in Merlin’s words. “I will, Merlin. I promise.”

By the age of eight, Arthuria had grown accustomed to the formalities of court life. She continued to attend council meetings, learning more about the intricacies of ruling a kingdom. Each meeting taught her something new about diplomacy, governance, and the challenges her father faced daily.

One afternoon, Arthuria sat next to Queen Igraine in the council chamber, watching as her father presided over a discussion about a potential alliance with a neighboring kingdom. The room buzzed with tension as the advisors debated the merits and risks of such an alliance.

“We must consider the potential benefits,” Sir Eamon argued, his voice calm but firm. “An alliance would strengthen our position against our rivals and could bring prosperity to Camelot.”

“But at what cost?” Lord Cedric countered, his brows furrowed in concern. “We risk entangling ourselves in their conflicts. We cannot afford to be dragged into another kingdom’s wars.”

Arthuria listened intently, her small hands folded in her lap. She admired the way her father, King Uther, managed the conversation, allowing each advisor to speak while maintaining control over the discussion.

After the meeting, Arthuria lingered in the chamber as the advisors left, her mind racing with thoughts and questions. She approached her father cautiously, her face serious.

“Father, how do you know when to trust someone from another kingdom?” she asked, her voice tinged with curiosity and concern.

Uther looked down at his daughter, his expression thoughtful. “Trust is something that must be earned, Arthuria. In matters of the kingdom, we must be cautious. We have to weigh the risks and benefits carefully. That’s why we listen to the council and consider every opinion.”

Arthuria nodded, her brows knitting together in concentration. “But what if we make a mistake? What if we trust someone who betrays us?”

Uther smiled gently, placing a hand on her shoulder. “Mistakes happen, even to the best of us. But a wise ruler learns from them and makes better decisions in the future. That’s why it’s important to always be vigilant and to trust your instincts.”

Arthuria looked up at her father, her green eyes filled with determination. “I understand, Father. I’ll try to be wise like you.”

“I know you will, Arthuria,” Uther said, his voice filled with pride. “And remember, you don’t have to have all the answers now. You have time to learn and grow.”

Arthuria nodded, feeling reassured by her father’s words.

As Arthuria neared her tenth birthday, her curiosity and eagerness to learn began to extend beyond her studies and her time with Merlin. She had always been fascinated by tales of knights and warriors, their valor and strength capturing her imagination. More and more, she found herself drawn to the training grounds, where Camelot's soldiers practiced their swordsmanship under the bright midday sun.

One crisp afternoon, Arthuria stood at the edge of the training grounds, her gaze fixed on the scene before her. The rhythmic clang of metal striking metal echoed through the air, mingling with the shouts of the knights as they sparred. Arthuria's heart pounded in her chest, each strike of the sword resonating with a thrill that coursed through her veins.

She watched intently as Sir Eamon, a young and skilled knight, demonstrated a series of quick, precise movements with his sword. His fluidity and grace as he maneuvered his weapon were mesmerizing. Arthuria's eyes followed every swing, every parry, her mind envisioning herself wielding a sword with the same elegance and control. The way Sir Eamon moved was almost like a dance, and she could not help but admire his expertise.

"Enjoying the show, Arthuria?" a familiar voice inquired from behind her, breaking her concentration.

Startled, Arthuria turned to find her father, King Uther, standing beside her with a gentle smile. His presence was commanding yet comforting, a stark contrast to the intensity of the training field.

"Oh, yes, Father!" Arthuria exclaimed, her face lighting up with excitement. "They're incredible! Do you think I could learn to use a sword like that one day?"

Uther chuckled softly, his eyes filled with a mixture of amusement and affection. "You certainly are eager, my dear. Swordsmanship is not just about swinging a blade. It requires strength, discipline, and years of practice to master. You're still quite young, but I have no doubt you will learn when the time is right."

Arthuria's shoulders slumped slightly at his words, a flicker of disappointment crossing her face. She had hoped to begin her training right away, to dive into the world of knights and combat. But she quickly regained her composure, nodding with determination. "I understand, Father. I know I'm not ready yet. But can I keep watching? I want to learn as much as I can, even if it's just by observing for now."

Uther smiled, his pride evident in his eyes as he looked down at his daughter. "Of course, Arthuria. Observing is a great way to learn. Watch carefully, ask questions, and pay attention to the knights’ movements and techniques. When the time comes, you will have a strong foundation to build upon."

Arthuria's face brightened again, her disappointment fading away as quickly as it had come. "Thank you, Father! I promise I'll be the best student when I’m old enough. I'll work hard and learn everything I can."

Uther nodded, his heart swelling with pride at her determination and enthusiasm. "I have no doubt, Arthuria. You have the spirit of a true warrior. And remember, patience is just as important as skill. Your time will come."

Arthuria beamed up at her father, her green eyes shining with excitement and resolve. As she turned back to the training grounds, she felt a renewed sense of purpose. She knew she had much to learn, but she was eager to take on the challenge. For now, she was content to watch and absorb all she could, knowing that one day she would stand among Camelot's knights and protect her kingdom with the same bravery and honor as her father.

As the training session came to an end, Sir Eamon noticed Arthuria standing at the edge of the grounds, her eyes full of admiration. He wiped the sweat from his brow and approached her with a friendly smile.

“Princess Arthuria,” he greeted, bowing slightly. “I see you’ve been watching us train. Did you enjoy it?”

Arthuria nodded eagerly, her face lighting up with excitement. “Yes, Sir Eamon! You were amazing out there. The way you move with the sword—it’s like a dance! I wish I could learn to fight like that.”

Sir Eamon chuckled, his eyes twinkling with amusement. “Thank you, Your Highness. It does take a lot of practice, but I can tell you’re eager to learn. You’ve got the spirit for it, that’s for sure.”

Arthuria blushed slightly, looking down at her feet. “Father says I’m still too young to start training, but I really want to. Do you think I could at least practice with a wooden sword?”

Sir Eamon glanced over at King Uther, who was watching the conversation with a knowing smile. “Well, learning the basics doesn’t always mean swinging a sword right away. We can start with some footwork and stances. Those are just as important, and you don’t need a sword to begin learning them.”

Arthuria’s eyes widened with excitement. “Really? That would be wonderful! I want to be ready for when I can start real training.”

Uther stepped forward, nodding in agreement. “Perhaps you could give Arthuria a few lessons, Eamon. Just some basic movements and footwork. It will give her a head start without rushing into things.”

Sir Eamon nodded, smiling at Arthuria. “I’d be happy to help, Your Majesty. How about we start tomorrow, Your Highness? We’ll go over some of the basics, and you can get a feel for what training will be like.”

Arthuria clapped her hands together in delight. “Thank you, Sir Eamon! I can’t wait to start learning.”

Sir Eamon chuckled. “I’m looking forward to it, Princess Arthuria. Just remember, it’s not about being perfect right away. It’s about taking one step at a time and learning as you go.”

Arthuria grinned, a mischievous glint in her eyes. She picked up a nearby stick and began to swing it around playfully. “Like this? Whoosh! Bam! Pow! Take that!” she exclaimed, pretending to fend off imaginary foes.

Sir Eamon laughed, watching her antics with amusement. “Not quite, but I appreciate your enthusiasm. We’ll work on refining those moves a bit.”

Arthuria giggled, clearly enjoying herself. “I’m ready! Let’s see… whoosh!” She spun around, swinging the stick in wide arcs. “And then—bam! Right in the middle!”

Uther chuckled, shaking his head fondly. “You have quite the imagination, Arthuria. And a lot of energy. I think you’re going to do just fine.”

Arthuria stopped her playful fighting, panting slightly but beaming with joy. “Thank you, Father. Thank you, Sir Eamon. I’m going to practice every day so I can be ready!”

Sir Eamon nodded, giving her a respectful bow. “It will be an honor to teach you, Princess Arthuria. And don’t worry—we’ll make sure you’re ready to ‘whoosh’ and ‘bam’ with the best of them.”

Arthuria laughed, feeling more excited than ever about her upcoming lessons. With Sir Eamon’s guidance and her father’s support, she knew she could achieve her dreams. And so, the next day, Arthuria began her lessons with Sir Eamon, learning the fundamentals of swordplay. Though she still had much to learn, her passion and dedication shone through in every step, every movement. It was clear to all who watched that she was destined for greatness, and with each passing day, her resolve to protect Camelot and lead her people grew stronger.