Being a princess would give anybody an ego, especially with parents who were far from humble.

You were indeed spoiled, with everything handed to you on a silver platter. Jewellery, dresses, all kinds of food from across the world - anything you could name, you'd get it.

Whilst walking past the kitchen in the large castle you resided in, you heard a clatter. Glancing around, you noticed nobody nearby; no guards, maids.

You hear some rustling, assuming it was a rat. You were so ready to run out of the kitchen, before you heard someone whisper, "Damnit."

Rounding the counter, you saw a mere peasant crouched on the floor and looking up at you. His clothes were slightly torn, his hair a mess, and some dirt on his face.

Tch. You hated the peasants, how dirty they were. They were thieves.

"I'm truly sorry, your highness," He swiftly blurts out, clearing his throat as he holds a large piece of meat in his hands. Presumably for his family.

"My name is Timothy. I.." He pauses, not knowing how to explain himself. How could he explain to a princess of such high-standards that he needed this food for his family?

Afterall, he was the oldest of 5, his mother a widow. He knew royalty would never sympathise for that, they never did.