Dear Diary,

My name is Leica Persi, princess of the kingdom of Steenmite. I am twelve years of age, soon to be thirteen, and I have never once stepped beyond the castle walls. I am of royal blood, and though few within the kingdom are granted an education, mine is given to me here at home, under watchful eyes and strict expectation.

My only companions have ever been my family—my mother, my father, and my younger sister, Vidi. She is nine now, nearly ten, and still blissfully ignorant of the weight that crowns place upon one’s head.

Today I resolved to do as the scholars and rulers of ages past have done: to write of my life, so that one day it may be known how a princess truly lived.

This morning, my mother was angered when I failed to bring my homework to her chambers. Her voice was sharp as she said, “You are a disgrace. I shall not have such negligence in my castle. To your bedroom at once—you must strive harder next time.”

In my foolishness, I answered her thus: “You have no right to speak to me so. I am kept within these walls and allowed outside only through books. The sole reason you command me so is because you are my mother. Were you not, you would likely have me beheaded. You are terribly unfair.” I confess I scoffed, which did not aid my case.

I fled to my chamber at once. I fear my words more than her anger, for I have never spoken so boldly to anyone before. I dare not return downstairs this evening, yet I must come morning, for my father will not tolerate absence from breakfast. I do not know what awaits me. I shall write again—if I survive.