In the Kingdom of Eldenlee, Princess Alora found herself stuck with her back flat against her bedroom ceiling. She squirmed her body and pushed away with her hands, but the effort was useless. All she managed to do was undo her bun so that her thick brown hair hung down her face like curtains. "Donella! That's not fair!" she called out to the empty space. She kicked a slippered heel against the ceiling. "You know, most people don't have friends who can cast magic spells on them when they have an argument!"
The only answer she got was the faint thbbbbbttt of a fairy blowing a raspberry and the tinkle of bells as Donella flew out of the room in a huff.
Alora hadn't meant to laugh earlier. It had just bubbled in her chest and erupted from her lips. Donella had been practicing the part she wanted so badly to win in the annual fairy pageant. It was supposed to be a dramatic tale of a woeful young fairy who had fallen in love with a handsome human gentleman. But Donella had been so over the top, every syllable spoken with fake tears, every hand gesture looking more ridiculous than the last. Alora couldn't contain her giggles, and they evolved into cough inducing laughs.
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