HP: The Servant Queen
What if I told you I was the wretched queen of Avalon? That I was once nothing more than a lowly servant girl, unfortunate enough to bear an uncanny resemblance to the noble lady I servedβa woman destined to be queen and the wife of the greatest king of all time.
I did not choose this fate. I was forced to exchange places with Princess Guinevere on the eve of her wedding. My ladyβs heart had always belonged to Sir Lancelot, and mineβ¦ mine was too wild, too estranged for the times. No matter how hard I tried, I could not bring myself to love King Arthur.
Perhaps that is why, when the truth of my ladyβs affair with Lancelot came to light, I was the one to pay the price. While she and her knight fled into the night, escaping with the aid of Merlinβs magic, I stood in her place before the king. And when the sentence was passed, it was my neck that met the executionerβs blade.
My story should have ended there.
Yet, I awoke not in deathβs cold embrace, but in the depths of the very lake where Arthur had once received Excalibur. The water cradled me, neither warm nor cold, and as I struggled for breath, a presence emerged from the depthsβa woman with eyes like moonlight on the waves.
The Lady of the Lake.
She gazed upon me with an expression I could not name, her voice flowing like liquid honey as she spoke.
"Tell me, girl, what is your name?"
I swallowed hard, my voice trembling yet resolute.
"Genevieve, my lady. My name is Genevieve."
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