Quinn was perturbed. Since the time she was five, the maiden had immortalized the Prince, no doubt due to her twin's influence.

"Someday I'll be just like the Prince!" he would exclaim, as their mother shook her head.

Their matron would pat the twins on the head and hand them each a cookie. "You guys will become wonderful explorers. I know it."

Eventually, Quinn became smitten with this mysterious man, this "Jarvan." It was only natural, given how highly her brother spoke of the man. Everything changed after the accident, however.

"Caleb," Quinn shrieked, as her brother was tossed about in the swift rapids, clinging helplessly to a small slick rock. "I'll get help! Just hold on!"

By the time she returned he was no longer there, his body found days later at the edge of a small canal. From then on, she was forbidden to venture off on her own. Her mother couldn't bear the thought of losing her last child, which was just as well, for the eight year old had given up her dreams of knighthood.

Years passed as the child wandered listlessly. With her best friend gone, Quinn had no ambitions, and did not associate well with the other children. "She's too depressing," they whined. She kept to herself.

Then, on the third anniversary of her brother's death, she found something that would change her life. Quinn found Valor. Valor's company rekindled Quinn's dreams, reminding her of the goal she once shared with her twin. In the memory of Caleb's dreams, the pair worked frighteningly well, and nobody, not even Quinn's mother could stop the girl when she declared she was leaving to join the Demacian military.

At 14, Quinn achieved that which she and her brother had only fathomed. She became the second youngest cadet to ever join the army, the youngest having been the prince himself. At first glance, Jarvan IV was not what she expected. She expected him to be as noble could be, nose in the air, too stuffy to think about, much less talk to his subordinates. This was quickly proven false when he had bent down to help her retrieve some scrolls after a few miscreants knocked her over, running off without a passing though.

"Taking these to Nashahago?" he asked, smiling as he handed her a scroll.

"Y-Yes," Quinn stammered in reply, amazed that this man had dared to approach a commoner such as herself.

"Ah, well be careful. The man is a terrible flirt," Jarvan responded, with a wink.

It was then that her admiration turned to infatuation, often bordering on obsession. She found excuses to see him whenever possible, habitually skirting duties to catch a glimpse of her beloved Jarvan. It was by sheer luck that she had caught that assassin, nearly tripping over the man during one of her sessions to gaze at the prince. The man had to be quite sure he would never be caught to have been sleeping in such an open area. She subdued the man, ensuring herself a position in the upper ranks of Demacian military.

Invariably, the assassin escaped, but it wasn't Valor's fault! Quinn grumbled, snapping out of memory into the present. Jarvan was hers. She didn't know what kind of magic that despicable monster had cast on him, but the prince was different now. He had never treated her with such disrespect before. In fact, he seemed evasive when she approached him, annoyed even.

She couldn't stand that! This, this harlot! Shyvana, she was called. Shyvana the stupid. Shyvana the seductress. That dragon had obviously done something devious, trapping her Jar Jar. That was the only logical explanation for the change in his disposition. Shyvana the succubus had him wrapped around her finger. Quinn would free him from her grasps.

The notion that Jarvan IV might have matured during his two year journey didn't even cross the austringer's mind as she muttered angrily to herself, vowing to defeat the dragoness. Champion. Hah. There was no way that thing could be a champion. She would tame the beast. Then everyone would know who was truly qualified to be the champion. Quinn cackled maniacally, startling many a passerby as she strode about her way.