The first night that she's in the attic she doesn't feel likes princess at all. She doesn't think she's going to be a princess again, with the goosebumps peppering her bare arms, the empty ache in her stomach and the squeaks of rats the only sound in the darkness. Her black dress is a few inches too short and her cold ankles knock together in the bitter cold.
But then she starts pretending.
With Becky at her side it is even easier, because she can describe everything for the other girl until she can almost see it for herself.
And there are cakes and buns and puddings on every surface of the attic, her stomach rumbling from the smell and she's never been so warm than wrapped in her blanket.
She is a princess.
And this time no one can take that away from her.