So I'm sitting with the Girl on the predawn couch this morning.
The Girl: "I don't think I want any more playdates with XXX (now apparently-former best friend)"
Daddy: "Why is that, sweetie?"
The Girl: "Because... (complex explanation of what boils down to "I'm the Queen and she doesn't always do what the Queen wants her to do")...and I think that YYY (now apparently-new best friend) is much better at (another complex explanation that boils down to "is MUCH better at playing the way I want")."
Daddy:(softly sings "Make new friends/but keep the old/one is silver/and the other's gold")
The Girl: "Mmmmm. I don't get it."
The thing is that YYY really is a very sweet little girl who loves all things Pony and Winx and cartooning and storytelling, just like the Queen.
But XXX has her own ideas of what constitutes "fun", and the Queen tolerates no independence amongst her ladies-in-waiting.
So all unbeknownst to her young Lady XXX has been summarily condemned to the Tower, the rope and the block.
So perish all traitors.