I was there when your father our king was slaughtered. Standing as a poor five-year child who wouldn't help the man and her daughter, who helped us.
I know I wouldn't leave you like this. So I ran behind the gang. The gang approached the bishop, who came with you whenever you visited us and received a ransom. Pumping with adrenaline I ran to my failure father, head of the village, and told about it. He headed to you on the same night alone. Poor father with bad vision got to the bishop, to whom he shouldn't. The bishop imprisoned him and framed the village. Turned you against us. Our village got fired. But our hopes didn't.
Days after, a group of youngsters approached the castle to save my father on a day that you called your first story celebration day. Yes, they did. My father was about to escape from the castle. But he didn't want it. You the majestic queen saved the village. In which my father failed. So, he decided to stay and tell you the truth. He sought to the stage. Held up the mike and was about the speaker. He framed the words from a horrible condition. His throat was stabbed in prison. To the bishop's luck, you closed your ears and mind to hear words from the person that you thought the cause of the king's death. Your anger was about to broke. The bishop gets on to the stage. Made the first story slaughter and you liked it. Soon our young warriors were caught and slaughtered. Our village took another blow of fire. But this time, it's on your command. Many went from here to you, not because you can help and we can escape our situation. But to tell you the real story. The queen began to feel guilty. She stayed in the village for the night.
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