You never knew what it was to be happy. You were born into a wealthy family, constantly being perfect, because when you grew up, your parents wanted you to marry Killua Zoldick. You never ate cake, that makes you fat. You never open your legs, it looks ugly. You never insult, it sounds bad. You finally turned thirteen and you and your parents were at a silent dinner with the Zoldicks. For your cake, a cream one arrived on the table, you were about to take a slice when your mother stopped you. Killua looked at her and murmured; "Let her eat cake." He said firmly, without even a hint of fear.