Uncrowned Princess

27

Ethan and Isabella strolled hand in hand through the bustling streets of the small town. Colorful banners fluttered overhead, and the air was filled with the sounds of laughter, music, and the enticing aromas of street food.

"This is the annual festival," Ethan explained, his eyes twinkling with excitement. "It's always busy, but today is especially crowded because it's Tuesday - market day. Everyone from the surrounding areas comes to town to buy and sell goods."

Isabella took in the lively scene with wonder. Street vendors called out their wares, children ran by with balloons and painted faces, and everywhere she looked, there was something new to see.

"Hey Ethan, I bet I can beat you at that ring toss game," Isabella said with a mischievous grin, pointing to a nearby booth.

Ethan smirked. "Oh really? You're on!"

They approached the booth and each paid for a set of rings. Isabella went first, tossing her rings with practiced ease. Two out of three landed perfectly around the bottle necks.

"Beat that!" she challenged.

Ethan took his turn, his brow furrowed in concentration. His first two throws missed, but the final ring circled a bottle with a satisfying clink.

"Hah! I win!" Isabella exclaimed, jumping up and down in celebration. "In your face, Ethan!"

"Beginner's luck," Ethan grumbled good-naturedly. "I'll get you next time."

"Sure you will," Isabella teased, poking him playfully in the ribs. "Face it, I'm just better at carnival games."

"Oh yeah? How about we try the strongman hammer next?" Ethan suggested with a competitive glint in his eye.

"You're going down," Isabella declared, already marching towards the next challenge.

As they wandered through the market stalls, a particular scent caught Isabella's attention. Her eyes landed on a booth selling freshly baked cakes, their sugary glaze glistening in the sunlight.

"Oh, Ethan," she said, her voice tinged with longing. "Those look delicious."

Ethan followed her gaze and smiled. "Let's get one," he suggested, leading her to the stall.

However, as he reached for his wallet, Ethan's face fell. "Oh no," he muttered, checking his pockets. "I must have left most of my cash back at the farm."

Seeing Isabella's disappointed expression, Ethan turned to the vendor. "Could you set one aside for us? I'll come back later with the money."

The vendor, a kindly old woman, looked between Ethan and Isabella. Something in Isabella's expression must have moved her, because she smiled and handed over a cake. "Here, take it. You can pay me next time you're in town."

Ethan thanked her profusely, and they moved away from the stall. But as Isabella looked down at the cake in her hands, something shifted in her expression. The joy from moments ago faded, replaced by a distant, haunted look.

"Isabella?" Ethan asked gently. "What's wrong?"

Isabella blinked, tears suddenly welling in her eyes. "I... I remembered something," she whispered.

Concerned, Ethan guided her to a quiet corner away from the festival crowds. "Do you want to talk about it?"

I remember her dragging me by the hand," Isabella continued, her voice trembling. "I kept asking questions, but she ignored me. And then... then she yelled at me."

Isabella's voice cracked as she recounted her mother's harsh words: "Stop crying," she had yelled.

"I want my dad," little Isabella had pleaded. "When will we go back home?"