Brat Princess Isabella Cranky Princess Has To Get Up <Windows>

Promises to be good for a month in exchange for "just five more hours."

Dear Princess Cranky, it said in smudged crayon. I hope you wake up happy today. Because you made my grandpa happy. So you’re not cranky all the time. You’re just saving it for later. Love, Pip. brat princess Isabella Cranky princess has to get up

With a dramatic huff that could have powered a small windmill, Isabella flung herself out of bed. Her feet hit the cold marble floor, and she let out a piercing shriek. "Why is the floor cold? Where are my fur-lined slippers? Is this a palace or a dungeon?" Promises to be good for a month in

Downstairs, the kitchen was a parliament of clattering pans. The cook, a bear of a woman with flour on her cheeks like battle paint, wagged a wooden spoon. “There you are, Your Highness. We thought you’d never get off that throne of quilts.” So you’re not cranky all the time

A soft knock came at the door. Three gentle taps. Then a voice — cheerful, patient, and deeply foolish.

As she sat down at the table, Isabella noticed that her parents had made her favorite breakfast: pancakes with strawberries and whipped cream. Her crankiness began to dissipate, and she started to feel a little bit better.