[To be fair, his version is probably a lot more reasonable tale to tell than the reality of her situation, at least in the moment.

She gives him a dubious look, the word princess at least seems to stir something, just a flicker of recognition from a lifetime of being called that. She vaguely touches the gold sitting on the crown of her head once again, frowning when she realizes she’s feeling doubt over such a tall tale. She drops her hand to cross her arms over her chest,]

But how can that be when I have been living here with my father for my entire life. I’ve barely ventured outside of these forests in my lifetime. Are you suggesting this is all... fabricated? My family's shop? My life?