Every year, on November first, St. Vladimir's Academy had the privilege of receiving a royal visit from their queen, Tatiana, and, in honour of Her Majesty, every year, the students prepared a Royal Variety Show, with acts of every kind. There were singers; solo acts and the choir, dancers; everything from break-dancing to ballet, solo violinists, and guitarists, and cello players, as well as the orchestra, and sometimes they put on scenes from Hamlet, or Romeo and Juliet, or another great play. It was a fantastic event, the talent of their students a great source of pride to the teachers.

Being chosen to participate in the gala was a great honour. It was the deepest desire of many of the students (mostly royals themselves), who could sing, dance, play an instrument, or act. It was also intimidating, performing for the queen, but it was more of a nervous exitement, than a fear. Being forced on stage however, when you were too young to know what was going on, when you didn't even know why this lady was so important, was an entirely different matter. It was petrifying.

"Don't make me!" Rose cried, as Ms. Donovan dragged her, by the arm, onto the stage for rehearsal. "Why do I have to do it? I'm not even that good!"

"You'll do," the young woman snapped. She was in her early thirties, her light brown hair tied up in a severe bun, no trace of kindness, or pity in her eyes towards the five year old she was currently man-handling.

"I don't think we should make her sing if she doesn't want to," Alberta said, frowning, from her position at the side of the stage. "I mean, she's clearly terrified." Alberta wasn't wrong. Once Rose had found out why they were teaching her that "song with the funny words", as she called it, that she was going to have to sing it in front of the whole school, visiting royals and parents, making a two thousand strong crowd, she'd started to panic. Now, standing in the middle of the stage, looking out at the gigantic auditorium, she was frozen.

"That's not up to you," Ms. Donovan retorted angrily. "Rosemarie has to learn that it's not always about what she wants."

"If you've ever watched her play with the Dragomir girl, or any of her other friends, you'd know that Rose barely ever thinks about what she wants." Alberta replied, the forty year old guardian equally as angry.

Before either of them could say another word however, Rose piped up, in a voice unusually quiet for the enrgetic young girl.

"Are all those seats gonna be full of people?" Her eyes had gone slightly wide. "'Cause that's a lot of people." The large theater was naturally larger from the perspective of a five year old. Not to mention scarier.

"Yeah, hun, it probably will be," Alberta told her gently, regretting her honesty as she saw Rose's eyes go wider. She'd always had a soft spot for Rose. She brought a lot of joy into the lives of the teachers and guardians, even if Ms. Donovan loathed her, making the child's life extremely difficult. Of course, Ms. Donovan hated all children, but she just seemed to like picking on Rose. Alberta despised the woman.

"I can't do it," Rose mumbled, her lower lip trembling. "I'll forget the words, and if I 'member I won't be that good."

"You will not forget the words," Ms. Donovan said, without remorse, "You've been learning that song for the last eight months, you know it perfectly." Luckily that was when Mrs. Andrews, the gala co-ordinator, walked on stage, all of the other performers (the next youngest being thirteen), and the other three directors of the show, filing in and taking seats in the audience. Alberta closed her mouth, deciding to have a private word with Mrs. Andrews about removing Rose from the show later.

"Okay, everyone," Mrs. Andrews said cheerfully, clapping her hands together as she faced the performers and her colleagues. She was a middle-aged moroi woman, her black, cropped hair showing minimal grey. "Today is our first run through of the performence, but I'd just like to start with Rose here, to make sure that we can hear her, because she may need a bit more amplification than the rest of you, and we'll need to sort that out quickly." She turned to Rose. "Whenever you're ready then, Rose." She and Ms. Donovan left the stage, and Alberta retreated into the shadows, back to her post.

Rose stayed silent, just looking at everyone in front of her. There was at least forty people. She looked at Mrs. Andrews, who was nodding ecouragingly, and got her voice back.

"I don't wanna sing, I'm no good, make someone else do it!"

There was a collective groan from those assembled. Mrs. Andrews' smile faltered a little, but she started to say "Of course you're a good – "

"I'll talk to her," Ms. Donovan said, cutting her off. She marched back onto the stage, grabbed Rose and led her backstage where no-one could see. Grabbing the little girl firmly by the shoulders, she started to shake her. Hard.

"I've told you once, I've told you a hundred times," the evil woman hissed, as Rose's head whipped from side to side. "You are doing this! I have put far too much effort into teaching you, you little brat, that wretched song, and you are going to sing it, whether you like it or not!" With that, she threw Rose from her, not hard enough to make any noise that would alert anyone, but hard enough. Rose looked around her, completely dazed. After a moment, she focused on her attacker, and her little face hardened.

"I hate you!" she spat, with more venom than a five year old should be able put into a sentence. "You're just a big bully, and I hate you. I'm not the naughty one, you are! And if you hit me again," she added, as Ms. Donovan raised her hand, "I'll tell Alberta, and then you'll get it!" Without waiting for a reply, she stood up, and strode past her, saying "I'll sing your stupid song today, but I'm not doing for doin' it for Her Maj'sty, I don't care."

Rose did sing then. It was a song from the russian opera, "Little Red Riding Hood", and they had indeed been drilling it into the child for the last eight months, since someone discovered she could sing. And she really could sing. Rose had an incedible, sweet voice, powerful for so young a girl, astoundingly good had she been an adult, never mind the fact that she was five. She was true to her word, that she would sing that day, and Alberta did appeal to Mrs. Andrews. Yet, neither Rose's, nor Alberta's objections, were enough to get her out of performing in the gala. Mrs. Andrews simply couldn't pass up the opportunity to show off this young girl's voice. It wasn't a good thing at the time, making her perform against her will. However Rose didn't regret her forced participation when she was older, and realised the important connection she had been able to make.