She was the most beautiful little girl that ever walked the earth, they whispered, and she smiled kindly because she was supposed to be happy about it.
She sat quietly when they combed her hair, and always stood gracefully next to her father during public occasions. And she observed everyone very carefully.
They were all busy, all blind to each others. They were all connected like a very long chain. And she was alone, like an unfitting piece.
She was four and knew nothing of the world, really, but at the most elemental level she knew she was alone. She had been long before her mother died, she was even when her wet nurse talked to her about family and love and rules. She was alone when her father smiled to her and she smiled back. Like there was this great, invisible space that kept her back from life.
Sometimes she could feel sad, and sometimes she could feel happy. But loneliness was born with her, and all she could do to try and make it go away was to ask her wet nurse to sleep next to her every night. She held her hand and she hoped to feel its hold and not be scared thinking of how big the world was.
One night she woke up crying, and her wet nurse rushed to fetch her some fresh water, but there was no need to because it had been just a dream. A silly dream about a blonde baby boy, crying with his strong voice and demanding attention.
She drank her water and when she lied back again between her pillows she refused her wet nurse hand.
She felt stronger now, even if she didn't know why.
She didn't know Arthur was born that night, that very moment, but she didn't feel alone anymore.
Morgana would never feel alone anymore. Ever.