When I was old enough — at about nine or ten years — I moved on from my tutors, and was sent to a private, prestigious school. It stood right by the border of our land and the neighboring Sarasaland. Girls of high-ranking nobles from both countries vied for a spot at the school. I, as the one and only princess of the Mushroom Kingdom, did not wait at all.
Some of the girls I recognized from my father's court; others were strangers. One of these strangers became my lifelong friend.
Her name was Daisy (Crown Princess Daisy Apple of Sarasaland, she introduced). Her hair was reddish-brown and boyishly cut, her skin darkened by desert weather. Despite the sun-faded look of the girl, I always thought she was the most beautiful girl I've ever seen. I still do.
I suppose, in recollection, we only bonded because of our statuses. There was no way for us to climb upwards in rank; no way for us to extort the other. Still, we were genuine friends.
Once summer rolled around, we were all sent home to break. The first night I was home, Mother called me outside.
Our favorite pastime was to sit under a great tree and stargaze. Mother would tell me the stories behind the constellations, although I knew them all by heart. Sometimes, I would tell them myself, Mother gently offering corrections.
That particular night, a slender telescope was positioned to face the moon.
"A telescope?" I asked. "What for?"
Mother only smiled. "Peach, I need to show you the stars."
It was there when I learned how to love the heavens more than anything in the world. In sleep, I would walk on the moon, and soar amongst the stars. There, I yearned for nothing but to go into the stars. I didn't know why. Adventure? Beauty? Whatever it was, I knew that space was where I needed to go.
After that night, and I had gone inside my room to rest, I stared out my window, the night sky twinkling. I can't remember of all that I did, but I know that I reached out fruitlessly, trying to grasp some of the starlight for my own.
When I was fifteen, my mother died. The exact causes were unknown, except that it had to do with an ailment of some sort. A beautiful, healthy, youthful woman like her? I didn't believe it for a second.
I didn't think — and I still don't think — that she really died that day. She became the moon, the sun, the clouds, the stars. More than ever, I wanted to be surrounded by stardust.
Yet in the political world, she was dead. The Mushroom Kingdom wore black, and my father turned more and more insane.
That same year, my only friend left because of some turmoil back in Sarasaland. She promised to write. I didn't hear from her until two years ago.
My institutional education ended at seventeen years. It was good to escape the silence of loneliness. Since then, I have been preparing myself for queendom.
Sometime after my mother's death, I met a ghost in the apparition had my mother's eyes and lips, but its hair was a pallid white color.
"Mother?" My voice was weak, and my breaths were small.
It smiled my mother's kind smile. "No… I'm not…" It's voice was ethereal and forlorn.
"Are you a princess?" I asked of it, noting its careful posture.
Its hollow eyes gazed through me. "The stars…" The rest of the night has always been a mystery to me.