A/N: A new UPDATE, I thought the old one was cheesy. Oh, and ten points to Gryffindor if you can find the 'Once and Future King' and the 'Doctor Who' reference.

Martha wakes me up in the morning, and I have a bath and slip in to a simple dark brown dress and a black surcoat lined in gold embroidery. I don't know why I am dressed in such sombre colours, so I ask Martha.

She just says, 'I think it is because that man, James Thompson is going to be –' she gulps. I hug her.

Suddenly, His Royal Pratness (the Prince Arthur) bursts into the room. I sarcastically say, 'Arthur! To what do I owe this pleasure?'

He replies, 'Father wants to see you.'

'Whatever for?'

'No idea.'

'Has he summoned both of us?'

'Yes.'

'Oh, this can't be good; why did he summon both of us?'

'I don't know.' He looks as confused as I am.

'Martha, come on.'

'She is not to come.'

'What?'

'Father specifically mentioned that she is not come.'

'Saddo!'

'What?'

'Nothing,' I quickly cover up. 'Martha, stay here.'

'Yes, Milady,' she says.

While walking down the corridor, Art the Wart (my nickname for Arthur Pendragon) says, 'I need a new servant.'

'Whoa, I thought you had a servant,' I say, taken aback.

'Well, that one was an idiot. He couldn't even take a blow.'

'Well, Wart, have you found a pattern?'

'What pattern?'

I said, in my normal voice, not my Princessy-sweet voice, 'That none of your servants last more than a week? No? And have you found the other one? If not, let me show it to you. Don't you lose your servants because you make them wear broken armours hit them with your sword to hard, usually on the head during your training practices? Not everyone is good with a sword, Wart. People have different talents, and you need to recognise them. Show some Humanity! It's a wonder that people actually want to serve you. If it was me, I'd poison you!'

'Okay, okay …' I gave him a look and he shut up.

Once we reached the court room I gently knocked four times.

'Come in,' came a deep voice.

When I entered, I didn't only find my father, but also my fiancé, William, the Prince of Straton. He and my father were apparently discussing some issues, but once I enter, he walks towards me. I hold out my hand reluctantly, though I do not show it, and he kisses it (Arthur's expression just said 'Urgh! Gross!'). With great difficulty, I finally accomplish forcing a smile on my face. I turn to my father, who did not notice any of this. 'Father,' I say in my 'Princessy-sweet' voice, 'you called for me?'

His eyes avert from the piece of parchment in his hand and onto me as he says 'Oh – oh, yes, Amelia, this is about the wedding.'

'Oh,' I say trying to sound very slightly curious, 'I thought it wasn't until I turned eighteen.'

'It is preponed to the next month due to political reasons. I would recommend you two to get to know each other before that date. Oh, and Amelia, would you please lend your servant to the Prince William's mother? She is arriving tomorrow.'

I say, not able to take it all in, 'ye – yes, sure.'

'Very well then, off you go.'

When Arthur, William and I started to leave, my father said, 'Not you Arthur. I need to talk to you.'I snigger, to which Arthur whispers angrily, 'Shut up!' William and I go outside shut the door and laugh. We look at each other and we stop.

'Um – do you want to go for a walk?' he says, after a long pause.

'A w- walk?'

'Y-Yes. W-with breakfast. It is only around eight in the morning.'

'Surely that couldn't hurt.' But deep inside I know it would.