You probably won't like my story. Heck, I'm not sure if I even like it myself. It's 1154 A.D., and my sister Jules and I are trapped in medieval France. My name is Guillaume Lanval, but most people me Gill (and also Henry - long story!) and this is my pretty epic tale about how I braved the cliffs of Dover to become king, how I finally got the girl, and experienced some magical shit along the way. Did I mention the girl is kinda a sorceress? I'm a horrible human being. I love her, but I can't have her. It will never work out - and now I have to save her life. What have I become?
Despite what you hear, I'm starting to think this whole thing is my fault.