Once upon a time. Once upon a time is how fairy tales start. My life is not a fairy tale. Though being a princess, you'd think it would be, right?
Wrong.
My life consists of running, getting caught, running, hiding, getting caught, repeat. I'm constantly running. From what, I don't know. I guess I just hate being a princess. I want to be free. And in Winterfell, I can.
Lord Stark lets me be myself. I can run with Arya, play with Rickon, hunt with Jon and Robb, and climb with Bran. I never have to sew with Septa Mordane and Sansa. And I love it. I love the freedom. I savour every last bit until Ser Jamie finds me and hauls me back to King's Landing. Then it's back to dresses and grace and sewing and tea with Mother and Myrcella.
The person I hate least in my family is Tyrion, my uncle. He is filled with wisdom and knowledge and also summerwine. If he were a god, he'd be the god of wine and tits. He is short and ugly and misunderstood. They call him the Imp.
If I could pick a person I hate most in my family, it would be my mother, the queen, or Joffrey, my brother. They're both very cruel and harsh. And my mom is in love with my uncle (her brother) Ser Jamie Lannister. The mighty Lannisters of King's Landing. Fucking each other. Imagine that.
In a fortnight, my whole family will go to Winterfell to discuss the matter of the King's Hand, Jon Arryn's death. I can run and be free with the Stark children. Except Sansa.
