L was in kindergarten in my first year. L was colouring in a portrait of queen
Zionessa, l made her dress pink and her hair yellow even though her hair was
really black in real life. L thought her beautiful, she was my grandmother you
know.
“Good work Isabella” my great grandfather praised me. Lately l had been thinking
about what those people had said about my mother Dalia, but they had
mentioned a queen, maybe they meant that nice queen Adriela, if so was she my
mother. L didn’t really care who my mother was as long as l had a mother.
“Her hairs not yellow its black dummy” one of the kids taunted at me.
“Tommy in the corner now with your head faced to the wall, don’t you dare call
my great granddaughter a dummy ever again” Rufadus warned. L was glad he had
sent that boy into the corner, l knew that Zionessa’s hair was really black but that
boy had no right to call the daughter of a royal family a dummy.