Charlotte was born a royal, a princess. A Lannister. Through the acts of thievery, she ends up in Winterfell, being raised by Lord and Lady Stark. As Jon Arryn's death has come to pass, King Robert needs a new Hand. Who other than her father, Eddard...
"Different roads sometimes lead to the same castle."
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Charlotte's POV
Bran runs into my room, jumping on my bed. "I saw the Royal Carriage! I saw the Royal Carriage!" His excitement was contagious, making me smile with elation. "Bran, go get properly dressed. They'll be here within the hour."
He jumps off the bed with a thump on the stone floor. "You're such a spoil sport, Charlotte." I flick him the nose. " I want you to look most handsome for the Queen. How is that spoiling your fun?" He laughs, flipping his long hair back handsomely.
Mother stands in my room, going through my endless closet of gowns that stretched for two feet. "Charlotte, dear. I can't seem to find you a suitable gown." I laugh softly at her comment. "Mother... my closet has at least twenty gowns in it. One of them has to be worthy of the Queen." She groans in protest. "You're no help. Not even the best seamstress in Winterfell can salvage these. What do you do that ruins them exactly?"
I pivot around to her, a sly smile on face. "Maybe the imps in my closet can answer your question."
I look back at Bran, who taps his leg impatiently. "When are we going to shoot arrows?" His words turn from excitement to a mere moan. He wants to shoot arrows with his sister, and his ten year old patience was growing thin.
"Ahhhh!" My mother exclaims, startling both Bran and I. "Did you find the invisible imps? I knew they were in there somewhere." Bran chuckles loudly behind me.
"Charlotte, one of these days your smart comments are going to get you in trouble... But's that beside the point. I found a dress that might just work." She removes a dress, colors of yellows and golds mixing together beautifully on the fabric. A mastery of swirls created by golden trim along the sleeves. The bodice, form fitting and lined with red lace. The invisible imps have made magically dresses appear in my closet.
Bran approaches mother. "Charlotte looks pretty in gold." She beams a smile at me. "Yes. Yes, she does."
I stick my hands out, curtsying to the both of them, unable to hide the unnatural shade of red my face is turning. This causes my mother and Bran to bust out into a fit of giggles, knowing that I dislike being the center of attention. I narrow my eyes, staring at Bran. "What's he going to wear? He is was more rambunctious than I, and does not nearly have as many clothes."
Mother's smile disappears, looking down at Bran. "Oh dear... Come on Bran... Let's go dig through your clothes."
Bran turns back to me, winking. "I'm going to get you for this, Charlotte." He is terribly funny, when trying to sound frustrated. Robb was the same way. Neither of them held the capacity to sound intimidating. Jon, on the other hand, had perfected the art of handling people long ago. It's what I envied about him most.
Bran and mother leave quickly. Little did she know, that I had already laid out Bran's clothes for him. I used Bran as an excuse to get her out of my room. It was a well thought out plan, later causing me to surrender two nights of dessert... But, it was a worthy trade. Bran is my heart, and I would do anything for him.
