Let me tell you a story:
Once upon a time, a girl was born. In the midst of war, poverty and slaughtering of the poor, a beautiful, little light was brought into the darkness. The girl was named after her dead aunt, her mother said, and that aunt had apparently been full of love.
Years after being brought into the world, the girl remained loving, thoughtful and caring.
Then the ball happened.
The ball she'd been forced to work at, forced to look happy at and forced to let people grope her freely at changed her life.
She was, once again, forced to do something she didn't want to. She had to stay at the castle under the Crown Prince's orders, apparently one of his friends claimed that she was special. For weeks she had to endure tests and experiments unwillingly, and every night she cried.
Some say that you become special, some say that you're special from birth.
The girl full of light had been special from birth. Not because of her abilities; because of her light. She had a rare source of light, a light like no one else.
And the people at court didn't like that, they would've liked that source to disappear.
Court didn't want a light in the darkness, they would rather have stayed in the dark.
Too bad that the girl wouldn't let them.