Poor girl.

The massive wooden and metal doors of the castle's throne room slowly opened, and guards dragged in a bloodied, scarred girl who looked about your age. She appeared exhausted, dressed in a thin shirt sewn from old flour sacks and loose trousers held up by a small rope. Her delicate blonde hair was disheveled and dirty, her grey eyes filled with tears. A guard spoke in a deep voice.

"This little thief was found sneaking into the castle bakery. What shall we do with her, Your Majesty?"

The girl was sobbing quietly.