"The King and Queen cordially invite all eligible bachelorettes to the Midnight Masquerade, to be held on Friday, Saturday, and Sunday next week." Renee read the careful calligraphy with an over dramatic tone, hilariously similar to the Cantian royals' accent. "All three dances will be held from six PM to two AM. We wish to see all lovely young ladies there."


"I assume the King and Queen want the prince to get married," Brie grunted from behind the pages of her book. "How desperate can they get?"


"I want to be a princess!" Katherine squealed, her arms outstretched to her elder sister.


Renee picked Katherine up off the ground and brushed a blonde lock of hair from her face. "Aren't you a little young to marry the prince?" she reasoned.


"I thought age doesn't matter with love!" Katherine objected.


"You're six years old. You can't possibly be in love yet."


"I'm turning seven in sixty-three and a quarter days from now!" Katherine objected, and Renee just chuckled at her little sister.


"Not even thirteen is old enough to fall in love." Renee shot a knowing glance at Brie, who let out a grumpy sigh.


"Boys are idiots," she said. "Only fictional characters are worthy of love."


"Of course, Brie." Renee shook her head and smiled. If it weren’t for the unfortunate fate that Brie was a girl, her faerie Blessing of intelligence would have made her the smartest person in all of Cantia.


Just as Renee was setting Katherine down again, their mother came in. Her cherub-resemblant round face beamed at her children, setting down cloth materials on the sewing table before immediately moving to the kitchen.


"Good evening, girls!" Ma chirped.


"Mommy!" Katherine squealed and latched onto her mother.


"Hi, Ma." Renee glanced up and began to help Ma with food preparation.


"Did you hear the exciting news, Renee?" She picked up the knife and began to prepare vegetables for a simple salad.


"You got free fabric?" Renee eyed the expensive textiles with incredulity. With the very small amount of money her family brings in, there was no way her mother could afford the silk.


"That came to me as a shock, too," Ma gushed, "but Ms. Sophalia from the Sorlain Province was generous enough to offer extra fabric. She said she couldn't bear to see any of it go to waste, and that she already had enough to make new dresses for her two daughters. Adriana and Prunella are such dears. They're your age, Renee. You should befriend them."


"Mom," Brie called. "You talk too much. I'm trying to focus." She held up her book to prove her point, and she lost herself in the words again.


"What's the occasion?" Renee ran her fingers across the silk, the material soft and smooth to the touch. This would be a luxury she would never experience again.


"You've heard about the Royal Ball, right?" She turned to her eldest daughter, and Renee’s eyes widened in shock and horror.


“No, Mom!” Renee shook her head frantically. “You can’t make me go! I don’t even like those snobby nobles!”


“It will be good for you, Renee.” She affectionately tousled her child's hair and returned to cutting lettuce.


"It isn't fair." Renee pouted. "They steal money from our family with those ridiculous taxes, and they use it to do rich people stuff!"


Ma sighed as she set down her knife. "Renee, life is never fair. You must understand that each of us are placed in different places for a reason."


"We were stuck in this situation by the royals!" Renee argued, her negativity increasing by the minute. Her cobalt blue eyes were growing into an inclement storm that poured anger.


"What do you have against them?" Ma sighed. "They've been good to us. The King is the one who protects us from war, and the kingdom has prospered for a long time."


Ma's pleading expression pulled on Renee's conscience with guilt, but she was determined to not lose this argument. "Then why is our family in poverty? Why did Pa have to lose his job?" The tears began to streak her face as she ranted. Renee never knew how much resentment she carried until now, but that truly was what was on her heart.


Ma simply listened to Renee and her shouting until the girl stopped. Then the kind mother pulled her daughter into a hug and stroked her messy, dirty blonde hair. "Sweetie, I know that life has been difficult since then, and I know that it might not get better for a while. But you're strong, Renee. You can make it through the hard times, and you will be rewarded."


Renee pushed her mom back, still crying. "Ma, I'm not strong like you think I am. I don't do much."


"You care for the children," Ma said. "That builds perseverance. And your faerie Blessing is tenacity."


"You don't understand, Ma!" Renee screamed. "I don't want to go to some stupid ball, and nothing will change my mind!"


She storms out of the kitchen and into the bedroom, like a teenage girl typically does after a tantrum. But her room was shared with her two other sisters, with nothing but a bed and a very small amount of walking space. Everything else was taken up by a pile of blankets, a cluster of small objects, and a very small stack of books. There simply wasn't any room to spare for mobility.


"Renee?" Katherine asked. "Why are you mad?"


"It's nothing," Renee huffed, her back to her youngest sister. "I just had a small fight with Ma."


"Again?" Katherine swung her legs across the edge of the bed and gave her sister an indignant stare. "You're always mad at Ma!"


"Ma's forcing me to go to a ball." Renee crossed her arms and sat down next to her sister. She had no idea why, but Renee found it quite satisfying to rant to the youngest in the family.


"With the prince?" Katherine asked, a big smile forming on her face.


I'm not going to be dancing with him, if that's what you mean." Renee frowned at her younger sister's fantastical dreams, but she was young. After all, she was just as imaginative at six, and possibly even more so.


"Why not, Renee?" Katherine looked up at her with bright blue eyes, reflecting amazement and curiosity.


"First of all, I don't want to dance with him. Second, he would probably rather dance with some other beautiful girl. And there's the fact that he's royalty."


"You can't let any of those get in the way of true love!"


"I'm not in love with anyone!, and especially not the prince!" Renee shot up from the bed, crossed her arms, and turned her back to Katherine.


"He's called Charming for a reason," Katherine said in a sing-song voice. "Renee, can you please dance with Prince Charming?"


"Why do you want me to? I'm not going to be a princess."


"You'll never know unless you try. Pretty please, for me?"


"I don't want to."


"Pretty please with sugar and features and rainbows and butterflies?" With her adorable pout, genuine plea, and pleading eyes, it was difficult to ignore the cuteness factor of her request. But Ma was right about Renee's faerie Blessing.


"What's so special about being a princess anyways?" As soon as the words exited Renee's mouth she regretted it.


"Oh, everything!" Katherine gushed. "Princesses are beautiful and kind and famous and loving and smart ant rich and magical and happy all the time! Why wouldn't you want to be a princess?"


'Well. I'm stupid,' Renee thought, 'Princesses are wealthy, and so are all the other royals. What if I could marry the prince so the family could have some money?'


And the she caught herself. What was she doing thinking about marriage? And to someone she nearly hated minutes before! Besides, someone with the name "Charming" must be vain beyond compare, and those kinds of people aren't the most enjoyable to spend a lifetime with.


But Renee also couldn't disappoint Katherine like that. Her littlest sister looked up to her with awe and wonder, and a good role model would respect the child that looks up to them.


"Just one dance," Renee agreed. "And I will stay no longer than midnight."


"Yay!" Katherine leaned over with a hug for Renee, and she returned the embrace with an affectionate pat on the head.


"But Katherine, remember that dancing with the prince will not make me a princess, so don't get your hopes up."


"I won't," Katherine responded with a smirk. "I'm going to tell Ma!"


The little girl hopped out of the room before Renee could stop her, and she simply sighed. She knew that she roped herself into one heck of a mess, but if Katherine could be happy then Renee was satisfied. But despite the young girl's hopes, there was never going to be a chance to her to marry a prince.

Eleanor is the typical Cinderella. She's harassed by the vile Steps and wishes for nothing but a happy fairy tale ending. Her chance to escape finally comes with the Midnight Masquerade, the royal ball hosted by the Royal Family of Cantia. And rumor has it that the gorgeous Prince Charming is looking for a fair maiden to marry.


Renee never liked the royal family, because she claims it's their fault for letting her family slip into poverty. The news of the Midnight Masquerade just angers her, and she refuses to attend. But her little sister, who has always dreamed of a princess's life gives her the idea that attending the ball just may be a way to find a suitor to marry into a wealthy family.


The Midnight Masquerade is a success, with Prince Charming falling in love with a young lady's enigmatic charm and exquisite beauty. The problem is the identity crisis. With only a single shoe to help him, Prince Charming searches the Kingdom of Cantia for the perfect fit of the shoe. But he overlooked the possibility that two girls in the kingdom have that dainty size 3 foot.


With Renee whisked off to the castle and Eleanor subjected to the Steps once again, the teenage girls long for their rightful places, Eleanor in the castle and Renee at home. Through a twist of fate, the two girls meet and plan to switch back after the misunderstanding. Unfortunately for the both of them, the Steps have other plans in mind.


This comical twist on the classic fairy tale of Cinderella is a wonderful read written by DaAwesomeMee. Told about a sassy, loyal "princess" and a whimsical, unhappy servant girl, each chapter will leave you turning pages. And this paragraph is like one of those ones on the inside flap of a book.
 
~Eleanor’s Reverie~
Dreams are an escape from the cruel reality that Eleanor is trapped in. They are the one place where she can be happy without needing permission. No one to push her around, or treat her poorly. Everything was in her own imagination, and in her control.


She had the most wonderful dream, where she danced with Prince Charming at a masked ball. He had no idea that she was some peasant girl, and they floated around the ballroom, with only the sight of each other’s eyes. Her gazing into his green eyes with her blue ones, like the grass meeting the sky at the horizon. Not even the enigmatic masks could shield Charming’s beauty.


She was dressed in a gown that she would never see in her lifetime, the sandy muslin dress resting neatly on her slim figure. Her golden blonde hair was styled in an updo without flaw, and her light complexion was clean from the dirt collected after a typical day’s work. Her shoes sparkled with a translucent white, like diamonds on her feet. And the coy smile on her lips allowed the effects of her beauty to radiate across the ballroom.


The prince and she twirled around with an exquisite grace, capturing the envy of many a woman. But they paid no mind. The pair conversed with a natural flow, a teasing banter flitting between them. As they danced and chatted, Eleanor could feel the weight of her work disappearing into oblivion.


"Eleanor! Get your indolent butt off the bed and get to work!" The dream was shattered by her stepmom Sophalia’s commands, the relic of cruel reality. Eleanor rolled off the bed, wishing for at least another hour of rest.


"Stop that," she ordered her brain. She could not afford to be lazy in Sophalia’s presence. She’d simply have to work until she was dead. After all, life has been like that for the past nine years. Eleanor walked slowly down the stairs to stall today's work, even for a few seconds.


"What do you wish for, Mother?" Eleanor asked, making every effort to sound chipper.


"First of all, you must wash up. You're utterly filthy, and I cannot stand the stench of your commoner blood." Eleanor reached for her tattered shirt sleeve and sniffed it. She was definitely not as rancid as her stepmom suggested.


“Stop that.” Sophalia gave Eleanor a sharp glare. “You ungrateful wench, do you know what I do for you?”


Eleanor bit her tongue back, knowing very well what would happen if she answered, truthfully or not. She counted down in her head for Sophalia’s rampage. It was repetitive, and Eleanor could recite the rant from memory. If it wouldn’t result in her dire punishment.


“I give you housing, food to eat, and most importantly construction of your character! After your father died, I was generous enough to take you under my wing instead of shipping you off to an orphanage, where you belong. If you cannot appreciate that, then I just may have to force you to stop taking things for granted.”


Eleanor has already lost just about everything. No breaks, no new clothing, no interaction with the outside world. Next, Sophalia’s going to be cutting meals for her.


“Lunch privileges are suspended for a month!” Sophalia smacked her hands together. “That ought to teach you respect. Now work!”


Eleanor nodded and walked lightly up the stairs, struggling not to trudge. She prayed that the scowl on her face was not evident. As the small girl trotted up the stairs, a pair of girls stampeded down, knocking over poor Eleanor. She huffed as she climbed up the stairs again, stopping at the obscured top to listen to the topic of conversation.


“Mother!” The nasally redhead approached Sophalia as the brunette one trailed behind closely. “Prunella said that Molly said that Trixie said that--”


“The Prince is hosting a ball!” Prunella blurted out excitedly, and the girls grabbed onto each other and squealed.


“What is this ball?” Sophalia raised an eyebrow in interest. If one of her daughters could marry a prince...


“King Sigismund and Queen Josephine are hosting a ball so Prince Charming could find a princess!” The ginger, named Adriana, swooned at the news, and Prunella rushed forward to comfort her sister. "Which means ALL young ladies in the kingdom have been invited!"


Eleanor’s ears picked up on the news, the lass sensing an opportunity. Just an hour ago the ball was a dream, but now reality is revealing it to her with a tempting offer. A genuine smile crept onto her lips, almost foreign to the real her. But the next words shattered her.


“Mother, we must definitely go!” Prunella spoke. “And don’t let that servant girl go! She will ruin everything!”


“Eleanor is your sister, whether you like her or not,” Sophalia said, her mouth pulled into a taut frown. “We must treat her with a circumspect attitude and consider how she feels.”


“But surely she doesn’t deserve to even set eyes on Charming!” Adriana protested, having recovered from her dizzy spell.


“Don’t you think that Eleanor should go?” Sophalia rested a dainty hand on the table as she schemed. “Or maybe keeping her home would be more prudent. She’s rarely been out of the house, and attending an extravagant ball may overwhelm her.”


“That is true, Mother!” Adriana bobbed her head enthusiastically, and Prunella gave her a look that said, ‘Do you have neck malfunctions?’


“And it’s best not to get her hopes up, letting her believe that the Prince would actually notice her. After all, she’s filthy and possesses no clothing worthy of a formal Ball. It is decided. Eleanor will not be attending the ball, for her own safety.”


Eleanor choked back a sob, feeling foolish that she could even consider going to the ball. Of course the Steps would find every excuse to prevent her from attending. And unfortunately, most of what they said was reasonable. Reasonable but false.


‘You must go, Eleanor,’ the romantic side of her brain coaxed. ‘This is your chance to let Charming know about you. No one will have to know but you and him. It will be the night of your life if you let it.'


'Don't be so silly!' The reasonable conscience stepped in. 'The Steps will never let you go! And they'll never go easy on you if you ask! They'll torture you until you can't sleep!'


'But the Prince! You two were destined to be together, and don't let three ugly hags get in your way. You can always sneak out, go to the ball, and dance with Charming. And they will finally treat you right when you become the next Princess of Cantia.'


'You are merely one of thousands of girls! What makes you believe that the Prince will choose you? Don't get your hopes up, or you'll risk disappointment.'


'But isn't the risk worth it? To have just one dance with Charming? Just one. Dance until midnight, so you may return before the Steps.'


Eleanor smiled, rather listening to her reverie rather than her reason. She will go to the ball, share one dance with Prince Charming, and leave with satisfaction. Just one will do.


"Eleanor!" Sophalia called from downstairs. "I have an important task for you!"


"Coming, Mother!" Eleanor responded, her mood lightened by her plan. She practically flounced down the stairs, but Sophalia's disdainful glare dampened her mood.


"I wish for you to make three ball gowns for your sisters and myself."


"For what occasion?" Eleanor feigned a naïve tone, as if she had no idea.


"For the Royal Ball, darling!" Sophalia chuckled lightly. "The Prince is searching for a maiden's hand in marriage, and Adriana and Prunella are destined to capture his heart. They need to be exquisite and absolutely stunning, to take away the breaths of all young men!"


"As you wish," Eleanor said.


"And Eleanor, you must understand that you cannot attend. I don't want you out shining my daughters."


"I know, Mother." Eleanor made an effort not to sound upset. "It's my duty."


"Good," Sophalia answered. "Now get to work. Don't dawdle!" She pushed Eleanor aside dismissively and returned to her business.


'Don't worry, Eleanor,' her mind consoled her. ‘You will figure it out, and you will go to the ball.’ Eleanor couldn’t help but agree with her mind.


 
~Another Bachelorette~
"The King and Queen cordially invite all eligible bachelorettes to the Midnight Masquerade, to be held on Friday, Saturday, and Sunday next week." Renee read the careful calligraphy with an over dramatic tone, hilariously similar to the Cantian royals' accent. "All three dances will be held from six PM to two AM. We wish to see all lovely young ladies there."


"I assume the King and Queen want the prince to get married," Brie grunted from behind the pages of her book. "How desperate can they get?"


"I want to be a princess!" Katherine squealed, her arms outstretched to her elder sister.


Renee picked Katherine up off the ground and brushed a blonde lock of hair from her face. "Aren't you a little young to marry the prince?" she reasoned.


"I thought age doesn't matter with love!" Katherine objected.


"You're six years old. You can't possibly be in love yet."


"I'm turning seven in sixty-three and a quarter days from now!" Katherine objected, and Renee just chuckled at her little sister.


"Not even thirteen is old enough to fall in love." Renee shot a knowing glance at Brie, who let out a grumpy sigh.


"Boys are idiots," she said. "Only fictional characters are worthy of love."


"Of course, Brie." Renee shook her head and smiled. If it weren’t for the unfortunate fate that Brie was a girl, her faerie Blessing of intelligence would have made her the smartest person in all of Cantia.


Just as Renee was setting Katherine down again, their mother came in. Her cherub-resemblant round face beamed at her children, setting down cloth materials on the sewing table before immediately moving to the kitchen.


"Good evening, girls!" Ma chirped.


"Mommy!" Katherine squealed and latched onto her mother.


"Hi, Ma." Renee glanced up and began to help Ma with food preparation.


"Did you hear the exciting news, Renee?" She picked up the knife and began to prepare vegetables for a simple salad.


"You got free fabric?" Renee eyed the expensive textiles with incredulity. With the very small amount of money her family brings in, there was no way her mother could afford the silk.


"That came to me as a shock, too," Ma gushed, "but Ms. Sophalia from the Sorlain Province was generous enough to offer extra fabric. She said she couldn't bear to see any of it go to waste, and that she already had enough to make new dresses for her two daughters. Adriana and Prunella are such dears. They're your age, Renee. You should befriend them."


"Mom," Brie called. "You talk too much. I'm trying to focus." She held up her book to prove her point, and she lost herself in the words again.


"What's the occasion?" Renee ran her fingers across the silk, the material soft and smooth to the touch. This would be a luxury she would never experience again.


"You've heard about the Royal Ball, right?" She turned to her eldest daughter, and Renee’s eyes widened in shock and horror.


“No, Mom!” Renee shook her head frantically. “You can’t make me go! I don’t even like those snobby nobles!”


“It will be good for you, Renee.” She affectionately tousled her child's hair and returned to cutting lettuce.


"It isn't fair." Renee pouted. "They steal money from our family with those ridiculous taxes, and they use it to do rich people stuff!"


Ma sighed as she set down her knife. "Renee, life is never fair. You must understand that each of us are placed in different places for a reason."


"We were stuck in this situation by the royals!" Renee argued, her negativity increasing by the minute. Her cobalt blue eyes were growing into an inclement storm that poured anger.


"What do you have against them?" Ma sighed. "They've been good to us. The King is the one who protects us from war, and the kingdom has prospered for a long time."


Ma's pleading expression pulled on Renee's conscience with guilt, but she was determined to not lose this argument. "Then why is our family in poverty? Why did Pa have to lose his job?" The tears began to streak her face as she ranted. Renee never knew how much resentment she carried until now, but that truly was what was on her heart.


Ma simply listened to Renee and her shouting until the girl stopped. Then the kind mother pulled her daughter into a hug and stroked her messy, dirty blonde hair. "Sweetie, I know that life has been difficult since then, and I know that it might not get better for a while. But you're strong, Renee. You can make it through the hard times, and you will be rewarded."


Renee pushed her mom back, still crying. "Ma, I'm not strong like you think I am. I don't do much."


"You care for the children," Ma said. "That builds perseverance. And your faerie Blessing is tenacity."


"You don't understand, Ma!" Renee screamed. "I don't want to go to some stupid ball, and nothing will change my mind!"


She storms out of the kitchen and into the bedroom, like a teenage girl typically does after a tantrum. But her room was shared with her two other sisters, with nothing but a bed and a very small amount of walking space. Everything else was taken up by a pile of blankets, a cluster of small objects, and a very small stack of books. There simply wasn't any room to spare for mobility.


"Renee?" Katherine asked. "Why are you mad?"


"It's nothing," Renee huffed, her back to her youngest sister. "I just had a small fight with Ma."


"Again?" Katherine swung her legs across the edge of the bed and gave her sister an indignant stare. "You're always mad at Ma!"


"Ma's forcing me to go to a ball." Renee crossed her arms and sat down next to her sister. She had no idea why, but Renee found it quite satisfying to rant to the youngest in the family.


"With the prince?" Katherine asked, a big smile forming on her face.


I'm not going to be dancing with him, if that's what you mean." Renee frowned at her younger sister's fantastical dreams, but she was young. After all, she was just as imaginative at six, and possibly even more so.


"Why not, Renee?" Katherine looked up at her with bright blue eyes, reflecting amazement and curiosity.


"First of all, I don't want to dance with him. Second, he would probably rather dance with some other beautiful girl. And there's the fact that he's royalty."


"You can't let any of those get in the way of true love!"


"I'm not in love with anyone!, and especially not the prince!" Renee shot up from the bed, crossed her arms, and turned her back to Katherine.


"He's called Charming for a reason," Katherine said in a sing-song voice. "Renee, can you please dance with Prince Charming?"


"Why do you want me to? I'm not going to be a princess."


"You'll never know unless you try. Pretty please, for me?"


"I don't want to."


"Pretty please with sugar and features and rainbows and butterflies?" With her adorable pout, genuine plea, and pleading eyes, it was difficult to ignore the cuteness factor of her request. But Ma was right about Renee's faerie Blessing.


"What's so special about being a princess anyways?" As soon as the words exited Renee's mouth she regretted it.


"Oh, everything!" Katherine gushed. "Princesses are beautiful and kind and famous and loving and smart ant rich and magical and happy all the time! Why wouldn't you want to be a princess?"


'Well. I'm stupid,' Renee thought, 'Princesses are wealthy, and so are all the other royals. What if I could marry the prince so the family could have some money?'


And the she caught herself. What was she doing thinking about marriage? And to someone she nearly hated minutes before! Besides, someone with the name "Charming" must be vain beyond compare, and those kinds of people aren't the most enjoyable to spend a lifetime with.


But Renee also couldn't disappoint Katherine like that. Her littlest sister looked up to her with awe and wonder, and a good role model would respect the child that looks up to them.


"Just one dance," Renee agreed. "And I will stay no longer than midnight."


"Yay!" Katherine leaned over with a hug for Renee, and she returned the embrace with an affectionate pat on the head.


"But Katherine, remember that dancing with the prince will not make me a princess, so don't get your hopes up."


"I won't," Katherine responded with a smirk. "I'm going to tell Ma!"


The little girl hopped out of the room before Renee could stop her, and she simply sighed. She knew that she roped herself into one heck of a mess, but if Katherine could be happy then Renee was satisfied. But despite the young girl's hopes, there was never going to be a chance to her to marry a prince.



 
~The Prince~
Prince Charming's emerald eyes reflected boredom as he sat through yet another family dinner. Of course, his mom was yelling at everyone for the smallest etiquette details.

"Sigismund! Roll up your sleeves!" Queen Josephine commanded. The King obeyed his wife's commands, seeing that his regal robe was now soaked in gravy.

"Mary, chew with your mouth closed, like you have a secret." The young princess immediately stopped chomping on her foor, a forced smile shoved onto her face.

"And Charming! Why are you slouching? You're the heir to the kingdom and cannot slouch. Improve your posture."

"Mom," Charming groaned. He hated the nickname he had, given just because he was renowned for being attractive. Sure, it was nice to be complimented, but no one ever cared for his own interests anymore. Not even the rest of his family.

"Be proud of your name," Queen Josephine snorted. Not literally; a royal must never be caught snorting. "People wish for looks like yours."

"It means nothing to me," the prince said, crossing his arms. "It implies that I'm nothing but a pretty face."

"Of course you're more than that," Queen Josephine cooed to her son. “You’re also the Crown Prince of Cantia, and soon to be the King.”

“Are you implying that Father is going to die?” Mary’s lip began to quiver, and the rest of the royal family had to act fast to stop her from flooding the dining room.

“No, darling! I didn’t mean that!”

“I’ll be staying around forever! Mary, please don’t cry!”

“Mom never said he would! She’s just telling me to be responsible!”

The young princess merely sniffled, and a collective sigh whooshed from the King and Queen. Charming, however, stayed tense. He just admitted to his mother that he understood her messages.

“So, Charming,” Queen Josephine said, her lips pursed.

Charming stabbed a carrot with his fork.

“Don’t stab your food!" Josephine took a calming breath and soon regained her composure. “Now, it’s about time that you started considering marriage.”

“And here we go again,” Charming said, burying his hands in his face.

“Since you’ve so rudely refused to marry any fair princess in the other kingdoms—“

“They always went after some other prince or random commoner.”

Josephine glared at him. “As I was saying, you have not found a wife yet. Therefore, I had to take action and host a ball for you. To find a spouse.”

Charming did a not-so-charming spit take. “Mother!” he growled, his voice seeping with anger.

“Please, never do that again,” the Queen said disdainfully as she dabbed the table in front of her with a handkerchief. “Obviously, you’re one of those royals who will defend marriage for love, so I’m sending you out to find a girl to fall in love with. I only have your best interests at heart.”

“Can’t I find my own time to do it?” he asked.

“You’ll just end up avoiding it,” Queen Josephine said. “I know you. You would much rather be sneaking out with those ruffians than find a noble girl.”

“Never mind,” Charming said, knowing that arguing with his mom would get him nowhere but in trouble.

“So, you will be hosting the ball. It’s in a week’s time.”

“A week?” Charming asked. “That’s just pushing things, Mother.”

“I told you I already planned it.” Queen Josephine crossed her arms, a gesture that came to mean “End of discussion.”

The rest of the meal passed in a painful silence, with the occasional small talk between husband and wife. Charming and Mary exchanged multiple glances across the table, which conveyed conversations in themselves.

Finally, the royal family finished their evening dinners, and they each retreated into their individual rooms. All except Charming, of course. He meandered through the many halls and rooms of the castle, mumbling to himself over the upcoming ball. There was no way his mother would relent in canceling it, no matter what he did. She was firm with this issue, and she can be an easily terrifying monarch when she is defied.

What Charming needed was time alone, where he could think without any royal attendees or his mother pestering him about stuff. Such a setting could not be found in the confines of the palace. Charming needed to leave.

*~•-•~*
He waited until the next morning, when everyone would be busy preparing for the ball. The one that he was meant to host, yet he was the one sneaking out of the house for an unknown purpose.

His normally groomed black hair was expertly tousled in a careless mess, and he “borrowed” the clothes of one of the servants so he looked more like a commoner. He’s been working on concealing his accent for a long time, which originally served as entertainment for the young prince. All he needed now was a tweak in facial features, and he knew exactly who to turn to in this situation.

Charming rapped on a specific wooden door, and he heard a squeak from inside.

“Come in!” his sister called.

He jiggled on the doorknob, only to find that the room was locked. “Mary, I can’t get in.”

“Oh, it’s just you,” the voice replied. “Is anyone else out there?”

Charming gave the hall a cursory glance before saying, “No.”

Seconds later, the door opened, and Mary yanked her brother inside. As he rubbed his aching shoulder, Mary turned around and slammed the door shut.

“What do you need, brother dearest?” Mary asked as she turned to her desk. “Something must be happening, because you look like dirt.”

“What happened to your room?” Charming’s eyes flitted from the messy pile of stuffed animals to the mountain of ruined dresses to the ink stain on her carpet. “You’ve always been so…”

“Neat? Innocent? Girly?” Mary completed before letting out a huff. “Playing ‘Mummy and Daddy’s Wittle Girl’ comes with its benefits, but it’s not fun at all.”

“So you don’t sleep with Snuffkins anymore?” Charming taunted, picking up the stuffed dog.

“Don’t touch him!” Mary shrieked, grabbing her prized possession and caressing his head. She looked at her dog distastefully and threw him back in the pile. “I’m already thirteen. It’s embarrassing to even mention that I slept with stuffed animals.”

“And?” Charming raised an eyebrow.

“Snuffkins is a big boy now, and he would rather stay with his friends and enjoy the liberating freedom away from my bed.”

“I know how that feels.” Charming ran a hand through his hair out of habit, but soon ruffled it again.

“You want a makeover?” Mary eyed her brother. “You certainly need one.”

“A different kind,” Charming whispered. “I need to sneak out of the castle, but I also need to be unrecognizable when I’m out on the streets.”

Mary pursed her lips together. “Hmm, a challenge. Luckily, you’ve come to the right place.”

“Oh, thank you so much.” Charming sat down in front of his sister’s mirror, but she swatted him away.

“Nuh-uh-uh!” she chided. “Talk about payment first.”

“Tonight’s desert?” Charming said.

“Something bigger.” Mary began to pace around her room. “You’re going to the market, right?”

“I don’t know,” Charming said. “I don’t know where I’m going exactly.”

“You will go to the market.” Mary stared at Charming with her piercing blue eyes before snapping her gaze at her desk once again. “You will give this letter—” she snatched it off the table, “—to a boy named Bryan at the blacksmith’s booth. And under no circumstances are you to ever reveal the contents of this letter to anyone else, including yourself.”

“And I can keep the desert?” Charming asked.

“I don’t need to get fat.” Mary stood behind her brother and ushered him back to the mirror. “Just remember your task, or I will tell Mother and Father what you did today.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Charming nodded.

“Good.” Mary smiled faintly. “Now let’s get to work, shall we?”

~At the Market~
Renee clutched onto the oversized basket as she walked through the market, which contained the fabric that was meant to form Renee’s ball dress. She had only one purpose at the outside shopping center, and that was to seek out the young seamstress renowned for her experience with all fabrics.

When Ma attempted to create a dress out of the silk, she was unable to make a single stitch without the fabric puckering. Brie pointed out the harsh truth: they simply couldn’t handle the quality of the textile and needed to seek out someone else’s help.

Throughout the whole debate, Renee continued to try to convince Ma to let her stay home. Even with the deal she made with Katherine, she was still searching for ways to avoid attending the ball. She was clumsy, messy, and uncouth. Not a single suitor would even glance her way, much less ask for her hand in marriage. She’d look like a fool in front of the whole kingdom.

Not like she cared.

Her eyes wandered to the different stands, her senses pulling her in different directions. The colorful arrangements of the florist’s creations stood out among the uniform palette of dull orange tents. The aroma of freshly baked bread was tantalizingly out of reach, almost luring Renee in for a bite. The clank of the blacksmith’s craft mingled in the air with the excited chatter of socializing shoppers.

And the sight of red crossed her path as her vision swam in anger. Only three slow breaths were needed to calm her down, but she was too upset to do even that. Her feet created miniature tremors beneath her as she stormed towards the blacksmiths.

By the blacksmith’s booth were three people. The master, an elderly man with calloused hands and a content smile, was polishing a brass weapon of some sort. A young apprentice boy with sandy hair stood off the side, grinning at a letter. The customer at the stand was bouncing impatiently, glancing around nervously at the crowd like he wanted to avoid them. His dark hair was messier than even Renee’s was, as if he deliberately styled it that way. On any other occasion, she would have found him attractive, but handsome boys were not in her focus at this time.

“How dare you!” she shrieked. “Mr. Cartwell, how could you do such a thing to our family?”

The older man looked up at her and flashed a toothy grin. “Hello, there. You’re Raymond’s daughter, correct?”

“Why can’t you hire Pa back?” she asked, placing her hands on her hips. “Is he not good enough for you anymore? Do you think that just because he had a single accident that he’s not capable of being a blacksmith?”

“Well…” Mr. Cartwell rubbed his glabrous head. “I know that he’s perfectly fine now after he’s had time to recover.”

“It’s been five years since then. Five painful years where our family’s had to live off virtually no income. No one else can find work. Blacksmithing is the only thing Pa is capable of, and the only one in all of Northern Cantia won’t hire him!”

“It’s a money issue,” Mr. Cartwell said with a shrug. “I have too many workers, and not enough customers. Besides, even if business picked up, he wouldn’t be able to compete with the new journeymen.”

“How would you know?” Renee snapped. “You haven’t seen him work since you fired him! Back then, you worried that you didn’t have enough people to sustain the business. Please, Mr. Cartwell, let my father work for you!”

“I am deeply sorry, Miss Renee.” The blacksmith let out a tense sigh. “If I was allowed to accept more work, I could, but the guild would not condone it if I hired even one extra person.”

For once, the lass was at a loss of words, so she simply screamed as she turned away from the shop. Renee took more than three calming breaths before she could think clearly again. She felt rather silly for creating such a scene at the booth, but she thought it was necessary to speak her mind. With a deep exhale, she turned around to find the tailor to make the dress, but she ended up bumping into a young man instead.

“I-I am so sorry, Miss,” he apologized, running a hand through his disheveled hair. It was the customer from the blacksmith. Upon closer inspection, she saw the most breathtaking green eyes she had ever encountered. He didn’t seem like a person of wealth, according to his attire, but something about him suggested otherwise. Renee dismissed that thought, wondering why someone rich would even consider dressing as a peasant.

“No, it was my fault,” she said, glancing downwards. “I wasn’t looking where I was going.”

“I’m to blame for standing in your way,” he said. Once she got over how nice he looked, she noticed that the boy had a faint accent of some kind.

“You’re not from around here, are you?” Renee smiled, as if she just uncovered a big secret. “What is your name?”

The dark-haired person scratched his head. “Ee… Umm…” he murmured.

“I’m sorry, but I didn’t quite catch that,” Renee said. “Did you say… Liam?”

“No!” He coughed and regained his composure. “I mean sure, yes. I am Liam.” He held out his hand, and Renee took it and shook it.

“Well, it is a pleasure meeting you, Liam. I’m Renee. Are you going anywhere in particular now?”

“I’m just looking around for now.” His eyes began to dart around nervously again. “I’m in no hurry to get anywhere, so would you mind if I accompanied you to wherever you are headed?”

“Oh! I don’t see why not.”

Liam gave her a smile, and in turn, she smiled back. “Would you like something to eat?”

She shook her head to decline, but her stomach argued with her decision. Before Liam could insist on buying her food, she said, “I’d feel terrible for taking your money. From the looks of it, I’d say that you barely have as much money as I do.”

“Well, looks can be deceiving,” he said, taking her by the hand and leading her to the baker’s stand. “It’s the least I can do for a beautiful maiden.”

Renee’s attention fell to the floor once again, a blush threatening to overtake her tan face. As his smooth hands brushed against hers, she frowned. “Your hands are awfully soft for a poor boy. It’s like you have never worked a day in your life.”

“W-well,” he stammered, “it’s because I’m the youngest of…seven brothers! Yep, and my oldest one is so altruistic. He sends us portions of his fortune every week, so I don’t need to do anything.”

Renee’s eyebrows furrowed at his reasoning. Liam was a terrible liar, but she just couldn’t seem to uncover the truth. She hated that.

“Are you going to the Prince’s Ball next week?” he asked before she could sort out her thoughts.

“Unfortunately,” she grumbled. “In fact, I’m supposed to be seeing the seamstress to see if I can have a dress made.”

“You don’t seem to be so happy about that.” He leaned over the counter and paid for the fresh bread. After taking the two loafs, he made his way back to the hungry girl.

“I loathe the royal family,” she spat, and Liam winced. “If it weren’t for their stupid taxes on everything in Cantia, our family wouldn’t have so many problems.”

“I thought you blamed the blacksmith guy?” he said, handing her a piece of bread.

“It’s his fault, too.” Renee accepted the food, but she continued to scowl. “Let’s change the subject.”

“I agree,” he said back.

“So, what is life like where you are from?” she asked. “Where exactly are you from anyways?”

Liam stayed silent as he fiddled with his shirt.

“Okay, don’t tell me.” Renee pouted. “After all I shared about my life, and you don’t say a word about yours.”

“I’m not that interesting,” he said quietly.

“I’m not either, but I still talked.” Renee’s gaze shifted over to the booth in front of them, where a young lady was intent on stitching up a ball gown. Of course, she would have a lot of business; it was only a matter of days before the Midnight Masquerade. Her blonde locks fell in front of her face, and her petite body was hunched over her work.

“That’s her, right?” Liam asked, pointing at the booth. But Renee’s thoughts were elsewhere, in the past. She recognized that girl, from a fragment of her childhood.

A memory flickered in the back of her mind, of two tiny girls playing Princesses and Knights. They both had similar features: blonde hair, blue eyes, and small body frames. Yet they barely looked alike at all. The girl with the golden blonde hair wore a pink dress and a daisy chain crown, and the one with the dirty blonde hair brandished a twig as she shouted.

Now in present time, the fair princess was fixing up a dress fit for a real one, and the gallant knight was holding bread and accompanying a young man. Renee stood over the tailor, her eyes processing her features.

“May I help you?” The girl never looked up from her work as she asked the question, her eyebrows rising ever so slightly.

“Ellie?” Renee asked. “Is that you?”