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"The king may have his horses. The king may have his men. Only we can put our hearts back together again." ~ Unknown

The much-anticipated night had finally arrived, and the whole kingdom was abuzz with excitement.

He should have told them a long time ago. But no one would've listened.

The Queen, in all her royal glory, lays on a chaise-longue in the magnificent ballroom, picking at some lint on her mink-skinned robe. 

The father, the King, sits on his worn armchair, engrossed in a leather-bound book without a second-thought for anything else. 

The Prince sits alone, on the plush sofa in front of the fireplace. He listens to the wood crackle and watches the flames dance. Every now and then, he turns to glance at his mother and father.

The footsteps of a scurrying swarm of servants rumble through the palace. The event has to run immaculately. Everyone in the kingdom, especially his parents, expect that after tonight, the Prince will no longer need to sit alone, ever again.

"You are such a sluggard!" the Queen scolds. "Stand-up straight and look presentable! Fix your cloak. Make the public adore you. You are our future, for God's sake!"

The King, nose buried in some manuscript or Bible passage, mutters, "Listen to your mother..."

Warm blood rushes to the Prince's face. His heart beats faster. He bites his lip. And all the memories of being treated like an accessory flash through his mind.

He does not speak. 

He should.

But he does not want to.

---

Since a young age, on most nights, the Prince would lock himself in his room, burn small candles, and write on parchment paper with a quill and ink until the dawn approached. He liked to invent fantastical stories that took him to alternate realities. Tales of faraway lands, mystical creatures, and fearless protagonists. Fictions that he himself could enjoy, without the need for anyone else. 

One time, the Queen caught the Prince writing stories instead of perfecting his princely duties. 

The Queen flew into a rage. She shrieked, "What are you DOING? I told you to practice your archery! Instead, you slink off to disobey me. Oh, I am going to teach you a painful lesson. Servants: burn every quill and piece of paper, and every story he's ever written! You are NOT writing, EVER AGAIN!!"

The Prince stared, mouth agape, at his mother. After a few seconds, he started crying. The servants gathered everything to be hurled into the fire. Then he screamed. Then he pounded his fists, kicked, and wailed.

"Noooo! Stoooop! You can't do this to me!! Father!!!"

As usual, the King was no where to be found.

The Prince watched in horror, with tears streaming down his face, as all his writing materials, and all the written dreams he had created, burned up in flames.

---

The ball was starting. Beautiful ladies dressed in their finest gowns begin to trickle into the grand ballroom. 

At seeing all the women, the Prince's palms moisten with sweat. 

He didn't want to get married. He never did. 

He wanted to write.

But no one cared about that. 

When he tried to tell his parents about what made his heart sing and what did not, his mother would berate him or his father would ignore him.

"Why am I even here..."

The Queen perks up at the sight of the arriving guests and excitedly introduces each woman to the Prince. 

"Honey, this is the beautiful Sam. Sam, meet my Prince!"

The Prince wears a gallant smile and kisses the hand of the first potential suitress.

"It is an honor to be in your presence, your royal highness!"

"Nice to meet you Sam. Say... Sam, what hobbies do you have?"

"Excuse me sir... hobbies?"

"Yes, activities that you do for leisure. Things that you like to do for fun."

"For fun... Oh! I enjoy riding horses! My father is a Duke and has many stables of horses. We also have dozens of jesters: watching them play music, dance, and joke is much fun... What do you like to do for fun, your royal highness?"

"I like to write."

Each chat leaves the Prince underwhelmed.

"Sweetie, I want you to meet the gorgeous Alex!"

"Thank you for inviting me to this wonderful ball, your royal highness! It is an honor to meet you."

"My pleasure Alex. Lovely night isn't it?"

"Indeed, sir! I am having such a marvelous time."

"Alex, what do you like to do for fun?"

"Oh... for fun... My father is a Count and he owns the largest vineyard in the kingdom. So, I enjoy sipping on a glass of Grand Cru while watching the sun set over his vineyard!"

"..."

The innumerable number of over-eager female faces and their hobbies start to blur together.

Right as the Prince's eyes begin to glaze over, he sees her in the distance.

There she is.

The stunning woman wears a billowy dress and seems to be wandering about at the far end of the ballroom. She looks around as if she doesn't know where she is. Her crystal glass tiara glistens with every head movement. Her straight, long hair frames an innocent yet wise face. 

The face of someone with such a level of warmth, that the crystal tiara on her head almost seems to be misplaced.

The face of someone who knows--understands, cares--much more than they let on. 

Someone he didn't even realize he was looking for.

Until now.

The Prince jumps forward and peels away from his conversations. He weaves his way through the crowd, towards this peculiar woman, gently pushing the others aside.

He finally makes it to her.

There she is.

She is looking away. Then, sensing that he is close, she turns her head to look at him.

They lock gazes for a second.

BOOOONGGGGG!

A deep, resonant bell sound reverberates through the night. First one toll. Then another. Then a third... 

The bell will strike twelve times this time. 

It is midnight. 

He reaches out and almost grabs her bare, slender arm. 

But she abruptly dashes away. 

She runs frantically through the halls and out the front door of the palace, holding her billowy dress up off the ground so that she does not trip on it. 

She runs down the front stairs of the palace.

The Prince chases after her. He shouts at her to stop.

But it is too late. 

She has already run off into the woods.

"I can't believe I missed her..."

While walking back towards the palace door, the Prince notices a glistening object on the stairs in front of him.

He bends down to pick up a glass slipper. 

His heart flutters with hope. 

He looks out over the kingdom, into the darkness.

"I vow to search across the land, far and wide, to find the woman who fits this glass slipper. I will meet her again."

"Because she is the only one who makes me feel like I'm home."