From birth, Alexandra seemed to have a chip on her shoulder. She wasn't an easy baby; hardly ever sleeping, Alexandra had the t'Artans going through wet nurses and nannies faster than some nobles go through smallclothes. When she was awake, she was often screaming. Her parents were certain she wouldn't live through her first year - something must be wrong for her to have such a demeanor, and her brother hadn't acted that way - so little mind was paid initially to her future or education. Better to detach oneself from the child to be lost, if that's how the One plans for things to go.
When she didn't die before her first birthday, her parents were a little shocked. When she made it to two, her father was rather impressed. She was a robust little one following the first loud year of her life. While she hadn't been able to keep much down after any feedings as an infant, she conversely ate everything as a toddler, and she was nearly as tall as her brother by three. She showed a preoccupation with participating in the physical exercises her brother trained in, and, though she took to it more in time, disdained any of the ladylike things her mother intended to have her trained in. The see-saw of her parents was omnipresent in her early years. Her father pushed to have her outside with him while her mother insisted she be indoors more often than not, shadowing her. Besides, there were younger siblings to think of, and how Alexandra must one day be a good example if she were to have any baby sisters. It was a weak argument, but her father did relent somewhat, and so, Alexandra began her training as both a young lady and, maybe one day, a knight. Eventually those younger siblings did follow, and it was her youngest sister, Amelia, with whom Alexandra became very close. Though there are four years (and rather substantial size difference) between them, they've complemented one another well since the younger's birth.
About the time Amelia was born, Alexandra's vocal protestations to feminine pursuits lessened and finally vanished. It was all before she'd gone through half her first decade; Not only did she learn (the hard way) that it would happen to her regardless of what she had to say about it, she learned that if she went along and kept her mouth shut, she'd found herself plopped right in the center of gossip. Women talk, especially those without much else keeping them busy to pass the time. So, while she'd wear her trousers beneath the skirt of the dress she didn't want on, needle and thread in one hand and fabric in the other, she'd embroider in silence. Her ears were always open, even if her eyes were focused elsewhere, on the comings and goings of the ladies in her mother's retinue. It was more interesting, of course, when there were visitors at Inferna - those were the times she'd put her riding off until very early morning or after dinner to better keep up appearances, and that's when she'd hear more about the kingdom at large.
It was during one of these visits, a wartime meeting, maybe (she can't remember the finer details), that Alexandra first felt anything resembling affection for a human other than her sister. And the admiration that welled up in her at that particular lady in waiting wasn't something she could ignore. Amelia's nurse even mentioned it at needlepoint one morning, tapping Alexandra on the shoulder to encourage her to focus more on the task at hand and less on coveting the gown their respectable guest had word to the morning's tea. She grumbled and focused, as she was told - something she was still mostly good at at this point - though that visit changed her. If her own will was to be believed, there was so much more of the world that existed beyond what she was being taught. Even with a knight's education and time spent riding and fighting, there had to be more to life than what she was being groomed for. With a newfound yearning for knowledge and no real desire to appease anyone's expectations of her anymore, Alexandra began to unravel in a delightful sort of way. The stubborn, uptight child began to melt away to a young woman who told it like it was, and often did so with a sword in hand. She quickly stopped caring about criticisms from her instructors. Her skills were well-enough developed that, when each and every tutor came before her parents with declarations of resignation, it didn't seem to make much sense to employ others for her. The only man she really bothered listening to was her father, whose advice she respected and heard when given, but was also ignored when she felt she knew better. To be frank, that was pretty often.
This trajectory has only continued for Alexandra. She's trained in the womanly arts and has been knighted. She does what she wants and on her own terms, an attitude only publicly accepted by her mother to keep the peace at social functions and generally just 'dealt with' by an indifferent father. He argues frequently that one must choose precisely which hill is right to 'die on,' as it were, as not all of them can be the exact location. Her mother disagrees, and it's with her that Alexandra has the worst relationship. Amelia, on the other hand, has become Alexandra's closest confidant. It probably helps that the youngest sister has been eagerly looking up to the eldest sister for as long as can be remembered, and it also likely doesn't hurt that advice given by the elder to the younger is always freely taken. They've fostered a relationship of trust and camaraderie that endures strongly despite many challenges… like, say, an undesired betrothal. It's on the doorstep of a life she doesn't want that Alexandra now stands, uncertain if she should cross over or wait. If she waits long enough, she may not have a choice in the matter any longer.