I didn't know.

I suppose I should have. Should have guessed. Should have suspected. But I didn't. I was too busy. To busy with my own problems. What problems had I ever had before? I was the king's daughter, and my father doted on me. He was always trying to protect me. Always making sure I was safe. It was suffocating! I never got to do anything, or go anywhere!

I never really thought about why.

I always just thought that's how all fathers were. I didn't have a lot of other fathers to compare him to. If I had known…If I had known…why…Why he was as protective as he was…

I had never gotten the full story of my grandfather's death. My mother would always just shake her head and say it was a story for my father to tell. My dad…tried. Many times. He could never get it out all the way. I knew it was hard for him. After all, his father had died. Of course it would be hard for him to explain to his only daughter. With the parts he had been able to get out; I figured out that a stampede had ended my grandfather life. How or why he was in a stampede's path, I couldn't figure out. My dad would always stop, like there was something caught in his throat. Then he would get up and go…somewhere. I never knew where. There was so much I never knew about my father. I didn't even find out he had grown up with Timon and Pumbaa until they had told me! I thought Kovu had been kinda unreasonable, plotting while not knowing about the true story of Scar; but did I really know any more about Simba?

In a word, no. In a few more, not at all. My father's past was a complete mystery to me, and I never even knew that! For the longest time…

I do now. Is it wrong that a part of me…wishes I didn't?

My grandfather did not just die. He was murdered. By his own brother, Scar. Who then blamed…my father.

My father…

How could he have done that? How could anyone…

I didn't know.

How could I not have known? How could I not have asked, or wondered, or questioned? I just waited. Waited for my dad to tell me. It's not surprising that he never could get all the way through. With what that must have put him through…

I wasn't much help.

I just sat there. Like a grub on a log. Making him do everything. Not trying to figure it out myself, to help him even a little. But I hadn't known…But I should have! I should have figured it out! A stampede! There was no way my grandfather would just rush into that! Not unless-!

Not unless there was something more important. More important than his safety.

Every lioness learns not to go after children prey when their mothers are nearby. The mothers always throw themselves into fighting us, no matter how wounded they may become.

Of course the fathers would feel the same way.

My father…

I didn't know.

I didn't think about what losing a parent could do to a little cub. How that may stay with them. Now that I…now that I know…I understand.

I know now why my father was always so protective. Because he's a father. A good father. The best father! So many dads want their children to grow up just like them. Not him. I think it would kill my father for me to grow up like him. Not because he's bad, or wrong, but because…he hurt.

Oh…what I had said…

"You will never be Mufasa!"

Why? Why had I said that? I was mad about Kovu's exile but…under the circumstances…it was the right thing to do. My dad didn't know Kovu like I did. Like I do. I knew how much my grandfather meant to my dad. I'd heard my mother talk about it enough. Once I even heard him talking to the sky. Being like him…that was all my father wanted.

And I had thrown it in his face.

I didn't know.

I turn my eyes away from the ground that had attracted my attention. I only looked at it because…because it was easier than looking at my dad. He had finally finished the story of my grandfather. Now I knew.

Now what?

What do I say? What do I do?

How could I not have known?

All the things I had never said, never did, never known…How was I supposed to make up for that? All of the things I had said. And had done. How was I supposed to answer for that?

"I didn't know."

"I know. I'm sorry. I should've told you years ago. I just…"

He was sorry? He was sorry? He didn't tell me about the plot his uncle had made, to kill his father and himself. Yes, clearly he had a lot to apologize for.

He had blamed himself. Scar had made him blame himself. Of course he would be protective. Of course he…

I didn't know.

I had to do something. I had been useless for all this time…

"Dad?"

"Yeah?"

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I didn't…"

I was crying now. Not just because of how, all the times I had complained about my dad, were now being replayed in my head. 'You will never be Mufasa!' Oh…No, not just that…

I cried for my dad. For the little cub who lost his father, and thought it was all his fault.

I'm sorry Dad.

I didn't know.