An interesting moral debate

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The Crown Princess of Cordonia sat with her back to one of the apple trees in the royal orchard, enjoying the feel of the warm sun on her face and the perfect tranquility of this special place. She was one of the lucky few permitted to spend time here, due to the fact that one of these trees, in fact the one she was leaning against, was her very own.

The first time she could remember sitting here, the sapling had been almost too fragile for her to park herself up against. Dad had jokingly shouted timberrrr! as its trunk had wobbled precariously behind her, and Mom had knocked him to the ground in response. Nine years later the more mature tree stood firm against Annabelle's frame; she was no longer the chubby child of six she had once been, although she was by no means the beautiful fairytale princess she'd hoped she'd grow into back then either.

Her short wavy black hair had eventually grown into long strands of unruly ringlets, and no matter how much she tried to straighten it, it was back to its default within hours. At the moment she had it tied up into a bun, but there was always the odd stray spiral that escaped and tickled her chin. She was much more grateful to have inherited her Mom's complexion, albeit her skin was a shade or two lighter. But despite Annabelle's afro hair and dark skin, there was no denying her half Cordonian side; she had her Dad's Beaumont blue eyes, and also his distinctive smile, which was perfectly endearing on him but somehow just made her look like a total geek. She tried not to smile too often.

Every year, pretty much ever since Annabelle could remember, and certainly ever since her little brother Max was born, they'd spent a week here at the palace in the summer. The four of them, along with their four pet corgis, would pack a load of cases, jump in a limo, and travel over to Cordonia to stay with Uncle Rick and Aunt Olivia. They'd spend a week living like kings and queens, as one big extended family. Uncle Drake, Auntie Hana and Jac would always come to join them too; they had their own place in Cordonia, but Uncle Drake had an apartment at the palace for occasions such as this.

Only three corgis had made the journey this year. The whole family had been devastated last autumn when their beloved boy Chance had passed away, as he lay curled up peacefully on Dad's lap. Destiny was an old girl now too, blind and slow; she seldom strayed far from Mom's side. Annabelle suspected this might be her last summer. Even Beau and Monty, born not long before Annabelle herself, were approaching the end of their lifespan now. However they were still little bundles of chaotic energy that could keep up with Dad and Max, well, most of the time.

Coincidentally, only three members of the Beaumont-Jones family had made it here to the palace this year too. Annabelle was missing her dad like crazy this summer, especially now that they were here. It was no secret that she was a daddy's girl. Things were very quiet without Dad around, although Max was doing his best to up his game, absurdly proud of the apprentice court jester role Aunt Olivia had bestowed on him last year (a dubious honour in Annabelle's opinion). She looked at the time, and smiled in relief. He'll be awake now. I'm Facetiming him.

She did so, and within a few rings her Dad was grinning through the screen at her. "Goooooood morning little bean!"

"Morning Dad," she said with a beam. "How's life in LA this morning?"

"Well.." She saw him glance out of a window, it looked like he was still in his PJs. "Sun's already up, sky is as blue as those eyes of yours, there's a soft breeze a-blowing in the balmy air..."

"Sounds perfect," she said dreamily.

Dad was spending a lot of time over in LA at the moment, working on the movie adaptation of his hit children's book series, Agent Breakdance. The series of secret agent stories that had started life as Annabelle's bedtime stories had spawned a string of worldwide bestsellers. An animated series several years ago had proved a smash, but now Breakdance had hit the big time.

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