Tristam smiled as she remembered her first day in her new home. She had been ordered to paint the grand ballroom, not just a solid colour, or a pattern, but a huge scenario. Several different scenarios, come to think. Morgan had led her into the room, along with her paints, and her cherished paintbrushes, lasted for generations, made from willow and white horse hair. She was ordered to paint whatever she wished, and started right away, the theories of this being a punishment having already faded. Now, 2 years later, Tristam was a different person. Living away from her parents had brought out the independence in her, and she was quicker to stand up to people than she had been. The children of the court knew her as "The Wonderful Lady Tristam", and everyone in the court with a problem came to her for advice. She was also quite playful, as many of the people found out during her first 4 months. Although painting thrilled Tristam, she longed for more entertainment, and proceeded to pull pranks on anyone who got on her nerves. Most people only got on her bad side once. Just once. She laughed out loud remembering some of the things she had done to the poor blacksmith. However, when they had discovered it was she was responsible for all of the inexplicable goings-on she refused to pay the consequences, and stormed off to the ballroom to go paint. As she made her way down to the ballroom to continue her painting, she got to thinking about the people around her, and how they had reacted to a new person when she had arrived. Many of the young boys welcomed her for obvious reasons, but she had made it quite clear to them that romance was the very last thing she needed to deal with at that moment. The miller's son still had a scar on his left cheek. Over the past two years, she had grown to love the children like they were her own, and cared for them whenever they were upset or hurt. She had a special connection with the animals, and was out to visit them everyday, and when she had the time, she took them outside with herself and the children. Morgan Le Fay noted her as a hard worker, but definitely a daydreamer. She herself noted that she lately had been speaking quite fiercely to unfeeling people or those she dislikes in general, but still she laughs at the thought of their surprise that such a seemingly good-mannered lady could lose her temper. Entering the Ballroom, she looked around proudly at her work. The Ballroom was a large circular room with a high ceiling and many chandeliers, and a stage at the other end of the room, with a staircase winding up along the left side of the room. The floor was covered in circular patterns, in brown and gold. Tristam lit the chandeliers and hurried over to her paints and brushes. Looking around her, she admired her paintings. They were of wild horses running freely through the crystal blue stream, historic events, historic people, animals of all sorts and many children playing. She sometimes painted landscapes, sunsets, and an ocean. The ballroom was so large it wasn't hard to fit it all in. But sometimes she did wonder. For two years she had painted these walls, and yet there always seemed room for more. But when she looked at the walls, there weren't any paintings gone. She shrugged, pushing the thought from her mind for the moment.