"MAMA!" I screamed. "IS MY CHEONGSAM IN YOUR ROOM?"

There was the sound of rummaging and heavy object-throwing a few floors down. "NO!" Came the response with a volume that could shake the palace. "SEARCH ZACH'S ROOM IF YOU CAN'T FIND IT—HE MIGHT HAVE TAKEN IT!"

"WHY WOULD HE HAVE TAKEN IT?" I yelled back with equal ferocity. Then again, I mused, he might have stolen it as a prank.

Zachary, my older brother, was out at a friend's house—probably playing Dungeons and Dragons or Saving Princesses, or something of the like that could boost an attention-seeking prince's ego for a couple hours. Meanwhile, Mama and I had to prepare for the annual Ball of Princesses and the Queens' Gala at the royal castle in Enchancia. I was looking forward to what my friends Amber and Sofia had prepared this year—they were known for hosting the best festivities.

This year's theme was 'Culture,' so Mama and I decided to wear our cheongsams tonight. Mama's was decorated with swallows in vibrant shades of green and purple. They looked like they were about to take flight, perched atop embroidered cherry blossom plants against a red silk background. The collar and sleeves of her cheongsam were decorated with imperial yellow, and the clasp that held the collar together was a golden dragon shaped oddly like Mushu. My dress was midnight blue, patterned with miniature red roses and pale yellow dragons. My clasp was shaped like two silver clouds, and the stitching was a beautiful golden that sparkled under the light.

Usually, I wouldn't have agreed to dress up, but tonight was about who I was—and my culture meant the world to me.

I finally found my cheongsam buried under a pile of Dad's old changshan suits in Zach's closet. Two hours later, with our hair and makeup set, Mom and I set off for Enchancia, leaving Mushu in charge of the Zijin Cheng, the Forbidden City, which was home to our palace. Our sedan chairs carried us to the pegasi waiting at the front gates, and before we knew it, we were reaching Enchancia.

"Mama," I teased jokingly, "if you're the Grand Empress, why are you attending a Queens' Gala? Shouldn't there be an event for empresses like you?"

Ma rolled her eyes. "Whatever the name is, I'll take it. It's a nice excuse to see some friends I haven't caught up with in ages and just be ourselves instead of acting as stuffy political figures tonight. Your priority in the Ball is to have fun; got it, Faith?"

"I can do that," I replied with confidence. Everyone knew how to have fun—it seemed easy. I could do it this year.

Scratch that—I couldn't.

The Royal Enchancian Ballroom mainly consisted of a flurry of voluminous ball gowns, small talk, and the occasional curtsy. I had just flung the door open and was about to greet everyone—loudly—when the formality of the occasion hit me like a basketball to the head. I felt out of place, weaving around flouncy dresses like a stick in my cheongsam that fit tightly against me. I hoped Mama wasn't feeling the same as I was—and knowing her friends, they'd make her feel welcome, and she'd have a blast, just as she had done for the past few years.

On the other hand, I hoped for a fresh start to whatever catastrophe the Ball of Princesses brought. There was an evident distance between myself and the others—they all knew how to be prim and proper and seemed to understand what normal meant. I was born and raised as a warrior and had been vying with my brother for the top spot in athletics in our family since I learned how to walk. There was no room for curtsies in the Fa-Li household, nor were my brother and I interested in tea parties or cotillion.

I couldn't blame Sofia and Amber, I supposed. They were kind and gracious hostesses who always tried to make everyone feel at home. Their warmth touched me but did little to move the hearts of the other princesses. Ultimately, they had been raised in an environment that was utterly foreign to me. It was hard for them to understand my world—it was hard enough for me to comprehend why they also indulged in such frivolities. This Ball was one of the few times in my life where I'd feel defenseless, always on the outside trying to find my way into acceptance.

Well, I'd already accepted my lowly fate of being the odd one out.

As I slowly made my way over to the snack bar (where I spent the majority of time during the Ball of Princesses), I couldn't help but notice one other girl. She was dressed in a plaid green dress, with...wait, was that a bow?—slung over her right shoulder. Her wild red hair was unkempt, and half her curly locks covered her face. She scoffed in contempt, surveying the ballroom.

"Bunch of losers," I heard her mutter under her breath. "I'd rather be anywhere else."

I decided to risk it.

"Same here." I sauntered up to the girl. "All they do is giggle, curtsy, and drink tea. Surely that's not everyone's culture."

"To them, 'culture' means 'appropriateness.' They don't care about the traditions or lifestyle from their hometowns—why should they when they're all alike?" The girl with the curly fire locks chuckled. "Meanwhile, I show up in a tartan skirt with a bow slung over my shoulder, and I instantly don't fit in."

"Every year, I come in a cheongsam or hanfu; it's less of me wanting to represent my country, more of a comfort issue. I'll wear what's appropriate for the Ball, but it doesn't make a difference—I'm always not a part of their group." I sigh.

"How come I've never seen you here before?" I ask the girl curiously.

"Mum finally got around to going to the Queens' Gala once she heard Empress Mulan attended regularly, so she forced me to come here," the girl shrugged. "She thought these things were a waste of time."

"Normally, they are, but Sofia and Amber try their best," I answered. "Wait—did you say Empress Mulan? She's my mother."

The girl laughed in realization. "I should've known. My mum Merida hails from DunBroch—she's the new Queen of the clans in the Highlands. I'm Meridith—quite an unoriginal name if you ask me. Well, there's no arguing with Mum once she's christened you and everything."

"Guess we can stay on the sidelines together this time," I commented as I watched Amber and Sofia waving courteously to the other princesses, weaving their way through the gaggles of gossiping girls.

"You know what they say," Meridith chuckled. "Birds of a feather flock together."

I laughed in response. "I've been meaning to ask about your bow."

"This old thing?" The princess swatted at the weapon in question. "My mum gave it to me on my sixteenth birthday. It was hers before, but I guess I've proved my skill enough to wield it."

"It's marvelous," I commented admiringly. The bow shaft was carved with intricate details of a girl with curly, unkempt locks mirroring the one who held it—I assumed that was Queen Merida. Below her was a carving of a bear with a crown. That must have been from the story Mama told me: the Queen of the Highlands had set off an escapade that involved her mother turning into a bear. I thought it outlandish, but then again, Mama had saved China with the help of a minuscule dragon and Dad's rigorous army training. Nothing was impossible.

"Fate be changed, look inside. Mend the bond torn by pride," Meridith whispered as she traced the words on the edge of the bow. "Mum loves this quote. She says it's from a spell and was a prophecy she'd fulfilled. I don't know how much of that's the truth, but I suppose it's a part of my culture. Mum has told me to respect and love our family above all."

"Same here," I remarked. "Xiào is a virtue in China. It represents the utmost devotion and respect a child can have for the elders in their family. It's an act of giving and repaying what your parents sacrificed to bring you into this world and the unconditional love that goes both ways between parent and child. At least, that's how I interpret it. Everything I strive to do is for Xiào, and I know my mother's legendary feat was also due to that."

"Is that the character inscribed on there?" Meridith pointed to the hilt of my sword. Sure enough, it was. I nodded.

"I'd never really paid attention to that," I confessed sheepishly as I peered at the hilt. "It was my father's before, and my brother was beyond furious when he gave this to me instead of him."

"Now that's a story I need to hear in full detail," Meridith laughed. "Want a glass of punch?"

We walked over to the snack table, chatting animatedly—and loudly. Our conversation was worth the shocked glances other princesses sent our way. When the dance music started, we jumped and shouted to the beat like there was no tomorrow. Now I finally understood what Mama meant when she'd encouraged me to be myself—it didn't matter if I was different on all accounts, so as long as I knew how to have a blast.

But being different with a friend made this year's Ball of Princesses twice as fun.