There once was a young woman named Hannah. She was the princess of a kingdom called Lakevale, which lay along the coastline and extended into the sea.
Hannah had long, curly red hair that cascaded all the way down to her feet, and blue eyes the same shade as the ocean at sunrise. She wore dresses made of the finest silk and ate lobster for every meal. In the mornings, she would swim laps in the ocean, and afternoons she would lounge on the deck of her yacht, sipping fruity drinks and eating ladyfingers.
Her life seemed perfectly lovely, but Hannah had a secret.
Or rather, the royal family had a secret. You see, in order to take the Lakevale throne, the next in line for the crown must exhibit an extraordinary talent worthy of a king or queen. Nobody except the family and the royal council knew of this sacred coronation ritual, and thus, nobody knew the kingdom was in grave danger.
For if the royal bloodline should be left without a proper heir, it would crumble to dust and ruin, along with all of its people.
Hannah’s mother, Queen Aquatica, was amazing. She had single-handedly run the kingdom ever since her father, King Seidon, passed away when Hannah was just a baby. Though Queen Aquatica was a strong leader, her body was riddled with sickness. She had slowly been losing the use of her muscles and her mind for many, many years, and now, with Hannah at the ripe age of eighteen, Queen Aquatica was bedridden and nearing the end.
It was time for Hannah to take the throne.
However, no matter how hard Hannah had tried over the years, she hadn’t discovered her extraordinary royal talent. She had tried horseback riding and gave up the first time she fell off her horse. Then pottery, which ended when her bowls and pots always ended up a little lopsided. Next she tried crochet, but she couldn’t keep count of her stitches, and painting failed when she couldn’t quite get the eyes right on a sand crab she saw on the beach. Hannah even Scherenschnitte, but the little scissors kept pinching her fingers.
Every endeavor went the same way.
At first, each talent was exciting, a shiny new toy for her to play with, but after a month or two, working past the basics into the more complicated aspects of that talent, Hannah would grow tired or bored or frustrated and move on to the next.
Queen Aquatica told her, “Darling daughter, you have to stick with it. Talents are not only innate. They are also a product of hard work and determination.”
So, the next day, Hannah set out to try her next talent—guitar. From a young age, she wrote catchy little jingles as she bounced around the castle and listened to records constantly. She had always had an affinity for music, but she hadn’t had the confidence to pursue it.
This was her chance.
So she met with her tutor every day, learning how to pluck and strum the basic chords. It was challenging for her soft fingers to press down on the strings at first, but as the weeks passed, thick calluses formed.
The lessons grew more challenging with each passing day, and just like all the other times, Hannah got to a point where she desperately wanted to quit. Her hands hurt. The chords and strum patterns were challenging. The music was getting more complicated.
But this time, Hannah didn’t give up.
She kept at it, practicing into the night long after her tutor had left. Her budding talent blossomed like the first flower of spring.
It took Hannah one year of grueling rehearsals for her to finally be ready for her coronation. She stepped up onto the golden stage of the palace’s grand theater, joined only by the royal council and Queen Aquatica, specially ushered in for the occasion.
Hannah performed a beautiful ballad as her mother placed the crown of Lakevale on her head.
Her smile shined like sunlight as Queen Aquatica announced, “I now present to you, Queen Hannah of Lakevale.”