Anastasia looked at her father as he took the letter and opened it. He read as the young man spoke, his words and those of the letter humming the same tune. Anastasia's head began to swim when the man said that he was to bring her back to the castle for coronation. His words were followed quickly by the mention of her being a princess and was to become the Queen. She stared at him in disbelief, she wasn't a princess and she surely was not a queen. Anita and Fletcher looked at each other, they had speculated about their daughter's arrival on their doorsteps many times, thinking about who had left them their baby girl. It had not crossed either of their minds that she was possibly a princess. Fletcher looked at the young man, "You are saying... That you are going to take her away..."

Anastasia suddenly became very aware of the scuffs on her shoes, the knots in her hair, the dirt on her dress. Nothing about her said princess. She knew nothing about being a princess, she couldn't rule a country. Her fingers found her hair and she began to run them through it, trying to clean it up a bit. Her heart pounded in her chest and all she could think was that she had no choice. She couldn't disobey the Queen and she couldn't imagine what would happen if she didn't take the throne as the Queen wished. However, she could imagine what might happen if she did. The stress, the never ending threat of war, the pleas of the needy, and how her arms would never be able to cover everyone... How if anything went wrong she would be the one to blame. She looked at the man and shook her head, "I'm... not a princess... You've been mistaken."