Gilda slumped into her desk with the weight of her conscious crushing her down. Her wings felt like they were filled with lead. Her mind was a soup of hurt, discomfort, and sadness. No one had warned her about this. Not one princess had prepared her for such a situation.

Her eyes darted to the mirror and she found tears in her eyes. “Dammit.” she whispered. Rubbing at her cheek to clear them, her mind conjured up an image of the little griffon chick at the orphanage. Her tears like crystals as they shimmered in her eyes. So much hope in that small smile, so much need for a hero…

“Youre the princess r-right miss Gilda?” The little chick had whimpered. shuffling her feathers nervously, Gilda had felt her instincts react immediately and she’d subconsciously fanned out her feathers to protect the child. “The other chicks said I should ask, They say cause you c-can do anything as a princess…”

Gilda clamped a talon over her chest while she cried into the crook of her folded arms, her talons digging into the desk. thinking back to those poor children. so lonely…so desperate…

“C-can you bring them back? O-our parents? They d-don’t have to stay, b-but we’d like to tell them something.” Gilda felt the tears as they streaked down her cheeks, and she screeching angrily into the mirror. Her fist crashed through it, sending shards cascading around her. each piece clinked to the floor, each one a pair of lonely eyes begging her to bring them a miracle.

She wasn’t a hero…She was just a princess….and Princess were useless…

The hatchling had smiled. the most broken, scared, and hopeful smile she could.

“We love them. T-they may n-not love us, but we do…and we’d love to see them again.”

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Just an idea that came to mind via re-reading this awesome story:

https://www.fimfiction.net/story/434872/the-8th-rank

I love this story and while reading it, a question popped up in my mind. “How do you answer a question like that…”

thus I decided to draw it.