Once upon a time, in a far away land, there was a tiny kingdom, peaceful, prosperous and rich in romance and magic. Here in a stately chateau there lived a widowed gentleman, Lord Bryan Ferry, and his young son, Vincent. Although he was a kind and devoted father who gave his beloved child every luxury and comfort, still he felt the little boy needed a mother's care and so he married again, choosing for his second wife a woman of good family, or so he thought, with two daughters just Vincent's own age, by name Anthrax and Ebola. For a short while it seemed that life might improve for the lonely Lord and his son but Mr Ferry soon learned the danger of falling for a woman who seemed too good to be true. No sooner had her position been solidified than the veneer of upstanding gentlewoman was dropped to reveal the devilish creature beneath.

...

"My dearest Lady," Bryan sighed, turning to hand his wife a flute of champagne. "Though we have only been married a year, I am already certain that our union shall be a long and fulfilling one." He delicately clinked his glass against hers as she stared up at him with a coquettish smile.

"Indeed," he continued. "There is nothing I would not do for you, or give you. Simply tell me what it is you require of me and it is yours, my love."

He was so blinded by love that he did not notice at first how the air appeared to shimmer around his bride. He closed his eyes as he leaned in to kiss her but froze at the sharp sting of a blade against his throat.

"Your life'll about cover what I 'require', gov. If you'd be so kind."

His eyes opened wide but he was too close to see his attacker clearly. The person who a moment ago had been his handsome wife, was but a blur of green, its mad eyes blazing into his soul before the blade sliced cleanly down through his jugular and across his windpipe.

In the last moment before he drifted away from his body and his life, Bryan heard the creature laugh.

"And now I'll take your fancy house and your fortune and all your worldly possessions, oh husband of mine. Not a bad years' work, all round, wouldn't you say?"

The Lord Ferry sent out a desperate plea, as the blood poured out of him and his soul dissolved back into the ether of the universe, that his poor, sweet Vincent be protected from harm but then, like graphite specks blown from a page, he was dead and gone and the Hitcher, his murderer, smiled.

...

It was upon the untimely death of his father that his step-mother's true nature was revealed to Vincent. The boy, naive and optimistic in nature had naturally trusted his father's judgement and the morning he was greeted with the news of the death of the man who had raised him and that he was now the property of a cruel and deranged man-witch was a grim day indeed. Cold, and conniving, and bitterly jealous of Vincent's charm and beauty, the Hitcher was grimly determined to forward the interests of his own two daughters and gain for them marriages to wealthy lords or ladies to increase his own treasure horde and, sadly, Vincent faced the brunt of his temper and insanity.

Thus as time went by the chateau fell into disrepair as the family fortune was squandered on the desires of the two vain and selfish sisters while young Vincent was abused, humiliated and finally forced to live as a servant in his own house. His wicked step-family took to calling him Noir, for the soot of the chateau's many fireplaces which he was forced to clean each week had stained his hair a glossy black but, as with every insult thrown at him, Vincent turned it to his advantage, adopting the name Vince Noir with a smile that infuriated the Hitcher and endeared him to all he was allowed to meet.

And this is where our story truly begins. For too many years the life of Vince Noir held very little joy or hope and yet, through it all, he remained ever gentle and kind, clinging to simple hopes, namely being given the chance to go out to one of the many balls held at the castle; to dance and talk and laugh and forget the cares that filled his days.