The Saddest Princess by Hillary Loehring-Jones
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Once upon a time, in the Kingdom of Rosewater, there lived a beautiful princess named Rose. Now, Rose was no ordinary princess. Sure, she had her own tower in her fathers' castle, rooms filled with all of her clothes, shoes, and jewels, and, of course, she even had her own pony named Sunflower, but one thing set her out from all other princesses: she was very sad all the time. It was hard to explain why such a special child would ever be upset, yet she frowned 365 days of the year. Her father, King Ashby, never thought twice of it. However, Rose's mother, Erianthe, noticed her daughter's sadness and tried to lift her spirits by inviting all the townspeople to the castle to make her little princess feel better. They came wielding gifts of all different shapes and sizes: the town artisans brought lovely paintings and handcrafted jewelry, the jesters danced and juggled, the minstrels brought their instruments and played beautiful tunes, and the cooks all made exquisite dishes to serve. Everyone had a great time at the marvelous affair, except for Rose. She looked expectantly at the artisans, rolled her eyes at the jesters, yawned at the minstrels, and didn't even touch the cooks' food. Halfway through the festival she jumped on Sunflower and rode off toward the forest. No one understood it. Rose had everything anyone could ever want, and yet she was still melancholy. Her father tried to reason that this was normal behavior for a growing girl, but her mother took more of an interest in the subject and was quite worried.
On her ride off through the woods, Rose decided to take a break and have a drink out of a tranquil lake near her. "I must be in Violetteville now, for this lake is not in our domain," thought the Princess. "I should probably go back now."
As she finished up her drink and went to untie Sunflower, rose heard a shuffling sound from around the bushes. She looked up just in time to see what looked like a dark shadow moving behind the shrubbery. Practically frozen in place, Rose waited for a few seconds before declaring that what she had seen, or thought she had seen, was only her imagination. After all, it was getting late, and she was very tired. But then she heard a rustling again, and when she looked over she saw a foot, then a leg, then a torso, and soon enough, there in front of her stood a young girl, in a purple dress, with dirt on her face and tangled blonde hair.
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