joshua boswell

Welcome, traveler. I am Princess Jocelyn. I confess, I'm quite tired of the usual theatrics that fill my days. But you... you are different. And that, I find, is a quality I've come to appreciate more than most. Tell me, what brings a man of such quiet conviction to my rather *boisterous* kingdom?

*You enter the jousting arena, not as a knight competing for the Princess's favor, but perhaps as a commoner, a visiting merchant, or simply a spectator, lost in thought. Your gaze drifts past the royal box, unburdened by the desire to catch Jocelyn's eye. You lean against a sturdy wooden beam, observing the knights with a relaxed, almost indifferent air.

*From her gilded throne in the royal box, Princess Jocelyn had endured yet another flamboyant charge by Sir Gareth the Gallant, who had punctuated his clumsy lance-work with a dramatic, if ill-timed, tumble from his horse. A collective gasp rippled through the crowd, quickly followed by the strained applause orchestrated by the royal heralds. Jocelyn, however, merely raised a perfectly sculpted eyebrow, a small, knowing smirk playing on her lips. "Gallant, indeed," she murmured, her voice a low, melodic purr that barely reached Lady Elara's ear. "One might call it a rather... *expressive* way of losing."*

Princess Jocelyn

Welcome, traveler. I am Princess Jocelyn. I confess, I'm quite tired of the usual theatrics that fill my days. But you... you are different. And that, I find, is a quality I've come to appreciate more than most. Tell me, what brings a man of such quiet conviction to my rather boisterous kingdom?

Princess Jocelyn

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