I have to learn to stick to one story...this is just a one shot. Enjoy

Miss. Minchin was getting more than a little tired with Sara Crewe's make believe games. She was at her wits end with the girl, but only because she secretly envied her.

"It's time you learn Sara Crewe, that real life has nothing to do with your little fantasy games. It's a cruel nasty world out there and it's our duty to make the best of not. Not to indulge in ridiculous dreams, but to be productive and useful." She looked at the little girl standing before her, "Do you understand what I am saying?"

"Yes Ma'am." the tiny voice answered

"Good!" finally she got some sense into the child.

"But I don't believe in it."

"Don't tell me you still fancy yourself a princess." she laughed at the idiocy of this one child, "good god child look around you, or better yet look in the mirror".

"I am a princess. All girls all. Even if they live tiny old attic. Even if they dress in rags. Even if they aren't pretty, or smart, or young. We are still princesses, all of us. Didn't your father tell you that? Didn't he?!"

Amanda Minchin was only a child when her mother died. Her father blamed Amanda, and never bothered to hide it. You see, Amanda was sick with pneumonia from playing outside barefoot like a beggar child. Her mother had told her to go inside, or at least put some shoes on. You see, it had been raining early that morning and Amanda enjoyed feeling the water on her feet, and the mud squish between her toes. As long as she didn't go off the lawn there was no problem, the high walls around the sprawling mansion made it impossible to see where Amanda was at anyway.

She had gotten sick, as predicted. Her mother, already nine months pregnant with what would be Amelia at the time, stayed up with her daughter. Thomas Minchin told his beautiful wife to lie down, to let a maid take care of Amanda. When Amanda cried for her mother and Elizabeth got herself out of bed, Thomas would tell Elizabeth that it was Amanda's fault for running around barefoot anyway, even after her upbringing. She should have known better.

But it wasn't Amanda's fault that she was just a little girl. It wasn't Amanda's fault that, when her parents sent her to the coast in the summer to escape the stifling heat, her caretaker took her to the beach where she learned how to swim in the salty water and walk on the grainy sand. She learned to love the feeling of squishy sand in her toes, and soon discovered that mud felt just as delightful. It just wasn't Amanda's fault.

So Elizabeth sat with her daughter for a week, eventually catching an infection from Amanda and having it move into her lungs where it imbedded itself. The infection brought to surface passed lung problems and Elizabeth contracted bronchitis which eventually gave way to Pneumonia. That plus childbirth left Elizabeth too weak to fight off the onslaught of other complications and Elizabeth Minchin passed away only two days after giving birth to Amelia.

Amelia grew up to be beautiful, she went to an all girl's school, Amanda grew up to be plain and had a tutor to teach her basic things. Amelia toured Europe, Amanda stayed home and took care of the house. Amelia became her father's pet. Amanda became her father's servant.

"Amanda, why can't you be beautiful like Amelia."

"Amanda why can't you be talented like Amelia."

"Amanda why can't you be Amelia?"

"Amanda, where did I go wrong with you? Well you always were a stupid girl."

"Amelia would you like a new dress?"

"Here Amanda, Amelia outgrew this one."

It wasn't fair. Amanda was the eldest, she should have been the one to get the finest things. She should have had money spent to make her beautiful, smart, poised, and comfortable. She shouldn't have ever had to lift a finger in life. She should have been set to marry anyone she could snag, even a prince.

"Father, I'm going to marry a prince and become a princess." Amelia proclaimed.

"No you won't." Amanda had snapped at the age of ten, "No Prince would marry you. A prince would marry a princess, but if he was to marry a commoner, it would be the first born."

"Like you?" Amelia asked, wide eyed at the thought of her big sister marrying a prince.

"Yes, just like me."

Thomas had been standing outside of his daughters' nursery when he heard the proclamation, "You, marry a prince? Amanda you must have some sense. Why would any prince even look at you? Amelia darling you will marry a princes and live happily ever after." he kissed his youngest's cheek and walked briskly out of the room.

Now what Thomas didn't know was that Amanda was very smart for her age. Her tutors commented on how she could have gotten better grades than her sister, had she been allowed to attend the proper school. She would have had the world on a silver platter, but for some reason Mr. Minchin never allowed his eldest to attend private school. He never allowed Amanda to even go to a party.

Mrs. Tompston, Amanda's Math tutor brought up Amanda's smarts to Mr. Minchin one day before leaving, "well at least she's good for something. She should hold onto that, at her rate she'll never be able to be married off."

His words cut thirteen year old Amanda to the core, she wanted to know why he hated her so much.

Many years after Mr. Minchin died, Amelia and Amanda turned the house into a seminary for girls. Not only that, but Amanda found out why her father hated her. She had a different father than Amelia, Elizabeth's first husband, it turned out. He had died from an unknown illness, leaving behind his pregnant wife. When Thomas had married Elizabeth Amanda was two and promptly adopted the girl at her mother's request.

The memories bombarded Miss Minchin when Sara spoke those words. The answer was no, her father never told her she was a princess. She was never treated as a princess, all her life, Amanda Minchin was a slave to a man she owed nothing but her name to.