A/N: Hello! Here's the reason I've been gone so long! I'm trying to keep up with schedules so this will be updated every Friday (HOPEFULLY). Check my other stories' next chapter to see their respective updating day. Okay, so here's like a little intro. I'm basing this story on the fairytale Cinderella, but I'm not sure if everything will be exactly like Cinderella. This is taking place by the end of the Middle Ages so, 1450-1480's. If you think about it, that means somewhere between the late Byzantium and early Renaissance. Well, late Byzantium, mid-Gothic, really, because the Renaissance started in Italy around 1300-1400s but I'm basing this on England, even if many characters are from other countries. I'm positively sure this will not take place after the War of Roses, nor will it affect the story line at all. It's just so you get an idea. So, if you think of it, in some countries/chapters it will be early Renaissance, super late Byzantium and mid-Gothic. At one point, this will not be a problem, though. But I'm a history dork and I will try to make it as historically accurate as possible, but if I'm missing something, let me know! Okay! Enough with the History rant! Here are a few more notes, though: Adalbern means noble bear. I changed it because it's more fitting of the era we're in. And the meaning is super cute, to be honest. Also, not a big fan of the name 'Grayson' and if the TVD writers can change names and characters and important plot-lines then so can I. Also, the last name Gilbert, originates from the name Giselbert, which was of Germanic origin, and considering it was used in Ancient Germany I found it slightly more fitting than Gilbert. Oh, and there will be POV chapters, I'm planning on having around four to five important POVs, so this will be the only chapter that's this short and with several POVs.
Prologue.
Once upon a time, in a land far away, lived a princess who was not a princess. She had no title, no reign and no real wealth but she was everything a princess should be at heart. Her parents loved her very much and made sure she knew it. The three of them lived in a beautiful, but humble, three-story house, with a garden that consisted of the prairie that edge the nearby forest. It was far from town and nearly hidden. The beautiful home had been in the family for generations and the little princess's parents had the help of eight kind servants to help them take care of the land. These servants adored the little princess, for she had the kindest heart imaginable and always made sure everyone she met was well and, if it were not the case, she made anything she could to help them. The father of the princess was a merchant who travelled frequently and for long periods of time. Not being able to see him saddened both the little princess and her mother, but they knew it was for the best.
"Bonnie, please wait for me!" the little princess called, running after one of the servant's daughter.
"It's not my fault you're slow, Crystal!" Bonnie called back, giggling.
The ten-year-olds always played tag but Crystal let Bonnie win, mostly because she knew she already had so much more than Bonnie did. They ran happily down the hallway, their laughter brightening the place. Crystal and Bonnie entered the dining room, where Crystal's mother was checking to see everything was in place; her husband would arrive soon and the table was to be ready.
"Bonnie! That's enough, young lady." Maude, Bonnie's mother and the lady's favoured maid, exclaimed in shame. "Know your place." Once it became clear the child would not heed her words, Maude turned to her lady. "My Lady, I apologize for my daughter's behaviour, she—"
"Don't concern yourself, Maude." Lady Raquelle smiled, her eyes trained on the children. "It's quite all right."
The two girls ran around the table, absorbed on the game, and Crystal's mother smiled fondly at them. She was glad Crystal had a friend her age, after she herself hadn't been able to have any more children. After a few sprints around the long table, the children ran out of the dining room and to the garden. They came to a halt, however, as the sound of hooves against pebbles and a carriage being pulled was heard. Crystal's face morphed into the brightest smile; that sound could only mean her father's arrival. Sure enough, her father stepped down off the carriage once it had stopped moving.
"Father!" Crystal exclaimed, jumping into his arms.
"My little Crystal," her father said fondly, holding her close to him. "You've grown at least half a foot since I last saw you." He informed her in a slightly teasing tone.
"Do you really think so, Father?" she asked, hopeful.
"I do." Her father smiled at her, before looking at the other girl. "Bonnie, it is a real pleasure to see you again."
"I say the same, My Lord." Bonnie bowed as respectfully as she could, her rich brown hair fanning her face, before scurrying away.
"Where's your mother, Crystal?" her father asked, eager to see his beloved wife.
"Come, I'll show you!" Crystal exclaimed, taking him by the hand and pulling him into the home. "She has missed you dearly, Father, as have I, of course." The little girl babbled as they walked towards the dining room. "Mother will be so pleased to see—"
Crystal halted on her step, the words dying in her throat as they reached the dining room's entrance. She let out a horrified gasp, for there was her mother, lying seemingly lifeless on the floor and with a thin trail of blood leaking from her nose.
"Raquelle, darling!" her father called out, worried.
He rushed towards his unconscious wife and gathered her in his arms, searching and hoping to find a pulse. He let out a relieved sigh before turning to his daughter. The girl's big brown eyes were widened as big as it was possible and she was biting down on her bottom lip so hard, the skin around her teeth was quickly turning white. He ordered Crystal to go and fetch help and the little girl ran out of the room, shouting for help as she went.
Crystal's father turned to his beloved Raquelle once more and his prior relief was short-lived. His wife appeared to be barely breathing and she was as pale as a sheet. Her cheeks and forehead was hot to the touch but her hands were freezing. This could not be good. A medic arrived twenty-five minutes later, once he had carried his wife to their bedchambers. The man had ushered everyone out of the room while he inspected Raquelle and tried to get her to come to.
Crystal sat right by the chamber's door, staring at her shinny clean boots and holding the satin skirt of her dress with her fists. Mama would be fine, she repeated in her mind over and over, she would be completely fine. Her brown eyes went to her father and her own reassurances felt tiny and useless. The man looked completely devastated, as if he expected the worst. Father met Crystal's eyes and attempted a close-lipped smile that never reached his eyes. Crystal copied him but was much more successful at the feat, trying to comfort her father through that smile. They would all be fine, Crystal insisted, perfectly fine.
The door to the bedchambers opened and a grim-looking doctor walked out, hurrying to his patient's husband. Crystal peered into the room. Her mother, usually lively and active, even when under a cold, lay on the big bed, the covers up to her chest. Her complexion seemed ashen, with dark circles under her eyes and lips blue as the sky. Just fine, Crystal reminded herself, although she kept having a hard time believing her own words. Father and the kind man who had come to save her mother, of this Crystal was sure, were talking in hushed voices as everyone waited in tense silence. She kept her eyes trained on her father but she noticed the kind man's shake of head and her Father's face falling in distress.
The prince, of six-and-ten years of age, watched as his little brother and their visit played in the big gardens, quickly running towards the nature-built maze. Princess Elena was here for one reason and one reason only; so that the prince could fall for her and they'd marry when she was slightly older.
Princess Elena Giselbert of Mystical Waters was the oldest heir to her kingdom, which history the prince could not remember. He knew he should but it was a tiny thing in the middle of nowhere with a population rate that didn't surpass five thousand. He doubted any history of theirs would be of importance. But they had lots of income by selling geodes; it was a growing business and the king wanted in on that. What better way than to marry the future king to Adalbern and Myranda's beautiful daughter?
The only problem was the prince didn't love her. His baby brother, on the other hand, did very much. King Giuseppe believed his youngest son to be merely infatuated and that it shall pass. But he knew his brother was rapidly falling for the girl and it was not one-sided. How could he take this away from him, when he didn't love Elena at all?
"You seem troubled, my friend." Ser Alaric Saltzman approached him.
"Look at them." The prince nodded at the two children as he leaned on the balcony's balustrade. "What do you see, Ser?"
"Two children running together as children do, Your Grace." Alaric answered right away, addressing the prince as his tone implied he should.
The prince glanced at his friend sideways, not agreeing. He had spent all morning in one of the balconies that clearly overviewed the many gardens the castle had. It had been a cold morrow, with the cold that emanated from the marble sipping past his thick velvet sleeves. The late autumn breeze had pushed his raven locks back and tainted his cheeks pink, but he had paid no heed to it. His clear blue eyes had been trained on the two children since the moment Princess Elena had ran into the garden, her long skirts gathered up in her arms as she nearly tripped into the fountain.
Stefan, all courtesy and noble heart, had rushed forward to make sure the little princess had not been hurt. They'd walked together, Stefan holding Elena's arm under his, and had talked about things the prince had not been able to hear. He surmised it had be fun things, for Elena would laugh once in a while and look at Stefan shyly under her long lashes. Whatever others said, he knew they were not behaving as childhood friends did.
"What I see is my youngest brother loving the girl I am to marry." The prince corrected, hanging his head with a sigh.
"Perhaps," Alaric conceded. "But I remember you feeling much the same towards your cousin, Marguerite, and it passed." Alaric reminded his prince and friend. Alaric, the son of a high Lord who had been knighted when he was ten-and-seven, had been the prince's friend for long now. Only four springs older than the prince himself, he was as much an advisor as a friend. "This too shall pass, Your Grace."
The prince nodded, lacing his fingers together as he pressed them to his mouth, leaning on his elbows. "I hope you're in the right, my good friend," he murmured.
He already had the weight of a kingdom in war on his shoulder; he did not need his brother's hatred on top of so many responsibilities.