So this is love
So this is what makes life divine
I'm all aglow,
And now I know,
The key to all heaven is mine

His hand was on her waist, holding her against him. Quite close, maybe closer than he should… but never close enough. She took a step back, and he one forward. She moved to the side, and he followed. Their moves were so in synch that it felt like they had rehearsed this a million times; dancing had never felt so natural before.

Natural… but not nearly casual. Every single part of him that came in touch with her body felt like it was on fire; like an electric current of some sort was running through him, turning his veins into wires that delivered the shock straight to his heart. It was so intense that it was almost everything that he could think of, the feeling of her body against his own. Almost everything.

Because there was the endless ocean of her eyes in front of him, shining under the dim light of the ballroom. The view was so mesmerizing, that he finally understood what people meant when they said they never wanted to look away from their lover's eyes.

She giggled, the melodic sound distracting him for a second.

"What?" he questioned.

She looked down, biting her lip. "We're still dancing."

He only then realized the song had ended, and the music had briefly stopped. It was probably the beat of his heart he had been instinctively dancing to.

"Oops." He said, with the most innocent of expressions.

A few seconds passed, and they were still twirling. She raised an eyebrow. "You are not stopping."

"Aren't I?" He asked. He found her expression quite amusing, and he was unable to hold back a small laugh as he spun her effortlessly in his arms.

And then a new song started, and he gracefully adjusted his moves so that they were dancing to the new rhythm. He briefly thanked his lucky stars for all those dancing lessons, because she seemed impressed. "There." He said, satisfied. "You were saying?"

She grinned and shook her head. He sure was very charming, she thought to herself. She felt right in his arms, and he caught in hers, the steps flowing between them like sighs slipping against a silk pillow. His breaths, short and trembling, brushed her hair, and he saw the laughter glitter in her eyes.

"You are quite a dancer." she whispered in his ear.

Despite himself, he flashed her a rueful smile.

"You wait until I step on all your toes."

That had her chuckling. "I find that extremely hard to believe."

"Oh, don't. I am normally a major disappointment in this area, I took after my mother." He grinned. "It might seem surprising, but sometimes it is the dancing partner that makes all the difference."

She flushed, a pink blush blossoming across her porcelain features. "Maybe so. But should we not exactly be switching partners at each change of song? At least that is what I've heard the rules are."

The song was getting slower, and he dared move a bit closer to her. She seemed a bit distracted suddenly. "Is that right?" He asked, his voice deep and soft.

"Quite, yes…" she trailed off.

He felt her breath brush against his face as she spoke, warm and delicious. He leaned in to inhale, intoxicated. Eventually, he managed to make myself focus to her words. "Would you like to switch partners, then?" he proposed.

"Honestly… no. I would not." She admitted.

He let out a sigh of relief, and unthinkably his hand that was holding her back moved a bit higher. He didn't want to push her limits, but he couldn't resist the sudden urge he felt either. Hesitating a bit, he run his fingers up her dress, following the line of her spine. His touch was soft as feathers, and he watched her close her eyes, her lips slightly parting. He repeated the movement in reverse, finally placing his hand back to its original place on her waist.

"Then let's not follow the rules." His voice betrayed the complexity of his feelings, feelings he had never experienced before this very second.

"Let's not." She agreed, her ocean eyes opening to let him fall into their depths.

Her heart was hammering. Quite literally, she could feel it pumping in such a fast rhythm that she was starting to get worried. Not enough, though, for her mind to be able to focus on that. No, that wasn't nearly the case.

Quite a few birds were chirping outside, the sound so fitting to the sunny summer morning. The sweet melodies of the forest and the rhythmical sound of the horses' hooves as they trotted proudly on the dirt were the only sounds around. She wasn't alone inside the carriage, the Grand Duke himself was sitting right across from her on the velvet, maroon seats, but he too wasn't initiating any conversations. She could only register him glancing her way once or twice, giving her a quick once over. He sure looked satisfied by the end of it, but he always checked again a few minutes afterwards. What was the Duke looking for? She might learn if she asked him.

Well, she guessed she would never know.

No she couldn't bring herself to do it, to form any words. Her mind was so full right now, so loud, that she thought some odd undistinguished slurs would come out of her mouth if she tried. She felt like she should make a good impression. Never mind the fact that there was a possibility she was about to have her dreams crushed again, she didn't want to be remembered as a random servant that couldn't even form a sentence.

She bit her lower lip. Could this be all she would ever be? A faint distant memory. Yes, the royal proclamation declared the Prince would marry the "mystery maiden" –she could hardly contain a sarcastic huff at the term- but as soon as her true identity was revealed, was it possible that they would kick her out? She might be a dreamer, but she wasn't stupid nor naïve; she knew the chances were slim that the Prince could look past her true identity… Perhaps they would simply have her escorted right back to her own personal hell.

"Are you alright, lady… uh… Cendella, was it?"

She realized she had been frowning, and instantly cleared her face of all her worries. She kindly smiled at the Duke, touched by the obvious concern in his tone. Something told her he was more worried about his own well-being did he not deliver her all content and happy, but she found the question sweet nonetheless.

"It's Cinderella." She corrected softly. "And I am feeling quite alright, thank you sir."

"Right, Cinder-ella. I'm awfully sorry for the misconception, mademoiselle."

She almost blushed at the term. She wasn't even sure if anyone had ever addressed to her as such. "Oh, it's not a problem at all, sir."

"It's just that your name is so… unique." The Duke seemed to be choosing the word carefully.

She chuckled. "You can call it weird, sir, it's alright. I know it is."

The Duke seemed surprised at her answer. She briefly wondered if she shouldn't have been so upfront; but then the Duke gave her an honest smile, for the first time since she had pulled out of her pocket the second slipper. "It sort of is, if I say so myself." He agreed. "May I ask how it… well… was chosen?"

"You may. Although it is not such a great story." She warned. "My birth-name was Ella. But ever since I once got quite dirty while cleaning the chimney, my stepsisters came up with the nickname. It was so long ago, however, that it feels like my real name. Ella seems like… like a completely different person." She admitted.

Only when she met the Dukes eyes; suddenly staring at her intensely, did she realize the atmosphere in the carriage had suddenly shifted.

The Duke glanced out the window, and then back to her. "Was that woman your stepmother, mademoiselle?" he asked after a moment of thought.

"Yes sir, she was."

"She seemed awfully… coldhearted, if I may be excused to admit."

She reluctantly nodded. She didn't really know what to reply to that.

"Is your father not in town? I didn't get a chance to meet him at your house."

She realized she had suddenly stopped breathing and she inhaled sharply, mentally scolding herself. The mention of her dad shouldn't have this strong of an effect on her still. "My father has unfortunately passed away sir. It has almost been a decade, in fact."

"That's… that's very unfortunate. I'm very sorry for your loss." The man muttered, not expecting such a reply.

"Thank you." she humbly said.

The Duke went silent after that, sadness clouding his honest eyes. The carriage kept making its way through the forest, occasionally bouncing as it bumped on a rock or chuckhole.

An infinite moment later, a thought occurred to Cinderella. Back when she was a child, her father had taught her a few things about proper forms of greeting the Royal family, but such a long time had passed since then that the information had gotten mixed together in an undistinguishable blur. And now that she was about to actually meet the Prince, she found herself ignorant as to how to bob a proper curtsy.

She glanced up at the man in front of her, debating on whether she should ask him about it or not… and figured that since he had asked plenty of questions himself, she might ask one in return. "Sir Duke?"

"Yes, my lady." He instantly replied as of reflex. Although when his eyes finally met hers, they became sad once again.

She didn't like that, she didn't want people to feel sorry for her. So her initial question changed. "What I just told you… changed the view you had of me, did it not?"

"No, mademoiselle." The Duke shook his head. "No, I am in no position to judge you or see you in a certain way. In fact asking you questions in the first place was inappropriate of mine, I do wish to apologize for that-"

"Sir…" Cinderella risked cutting him off. "I would really appreciate your honesty. I won't tell anybody of your words, if this is what worries you."

The Duke seemed to consider that. Then, for whatever reason, he seemed to slightly put his guard down. "I… uh… Well, the truth is that I do feel a strong sympathy for you now." He admitted.

"Sympathy… or pity?" She questioned, right on point.

"Honestly? Both. A little bit of both."

Cinderella looked out the window, to the trees passing by that formed an endless green wall on the side of the road. Would this be the way that... that he would see her now too? Would he see her tragic past instead of the woman he met that night, just as she saw the royalty in him every time she pictured his face?

Last night… had been the single most perfect night of her life. A miracle she had never dared to imagine she would live. Was it going to be turned into something different now that they would know each other? Now that they wouldn't just be just a man and a woman discovering what love means, but a Prince and a servant instead?

"I do not wish for my history to define me, sir." She mumbled, her chest heavy. She could feel her eyes begin to sting dangerously, tears threatening to escape. She fought them back with all her might, struggling to swallow through the lump in her throat. "And my fear is that it will, even to the people that matter most. Especially to them."

A few seconds passed before the Duke spoke. She could hear a smile in his tone. "Can I be honest with you, child?"

She nodded, unable to look at him.

"Our history… our past… it is a part of us. It isn't something that has simply passed. It is something that we carry with us, every image, every memory. You can push it back and fight against it, but that is the truth. So my advice… is that you learn to embrace it."

That drew her attention; Cinderella briefly glanced towards the Duke. "What does that mean, sir?"

The Duke leaned closer, smiling with kindness. "Be proud of your ordeals, Cinderella. Own them, embrace them. Pat yourself in the back for surviving through what you did and never stopping to believe. And once you learn how to love and be sure of how you think of yourself and your past, nobody will dare to look at you any differently, you trust me on that."

She could only blink at the man. Truthfully, with his perky and neurotic attitude, she never had the Duke as a man of words and emotions. What a pleasant surprise this was.

Hearing exactly what she needed to hear from the most unexpected person, Cinderella instantly felt a strong wave of reassurance wash over her, enough to have a smile appear on her face.

"For what it's worth…" the Duke eventually added, siting back on his seat again with his body relaxing. "I did like you quite a lot ever since you saved me from certain beheading when you pulled out that shoe."

Cinderella laughed, then looked at the Duke with gratitude. It seemed like she had just made her first human friend.

And speaking of friends… "Oh, crap! The mice!"

The Duke stared at her like she had just grown horns.

Okay… so maybe she spoke too fast.

"Are we even supposed to be here? Everyone else is inside…"

He grinned, slowly walking towards the small pond of the east garden. "I thought we agreed on not following the rules tonight."

She walked behind him, tucking her head to the side. "I did not realize that applied to everything. I thought we were simply referring to dancing."

"If you oppose, I will happily escort you back inside." He thought it through for a second. "Well… maybe not all that happily."

That same second she literally felt her heart skip a beat, but she tried not to let it show. "I do not oppose… as long as you are not simply looking for a plaything."

"A plaything?" he frowned, not expecting her to say something of that sort. "I would never… No, that is not the case at all, I never wanted you to misunderstand… I-"

"Oh no, I'm sorry, I was just…" she realized the word had actually upset him, stumbling on his own words as he was. "I meant that as a joke." She clarified. "Had I thought that was your purpose I would never have followed you outside in the first place. I was only joking."

His shoulders relaxed, but he gave her an odd look. "It honestly wasn't such an amusing joke."

She bit her lips, but a small giggle escaped her mouth anyway. "Maybe not but, if I may, your face right now was quite amusing..."

He actually huffed, speechless, and she laughed out loud. Her laughter echoed in the trees surrounding them, a melody so sweet that had the nightingales turn green with envy.

He smiled at her, shaking his head. "If I may…" he retorted, a gleam in his brown eyes. "You are really something else."

Though originally he had been leading the way, she managed to reach the pond first. Still chuckling slightly, she sat near the edge and he followed, sitting right beside her. The surface of the water was smooth as black glass, and she leaned down to run her hand through the surface, mesmerized by how clear her reflection on it was; as if looking at a mirror. Her movement had ripples breaking on the surface, shimmers moving across it like light itself could be blown by the wind. And then once again, the pond looked like glass and she could imagine walking right out onto it.

Billions of stars shone above their heads, them too reflecting on the clear water, creating the most breathtaking of combinations. And when she looked up and her eyes met his, he couldn't help but realize how right his father had been all along. The stars seemed to shine brighter, limitless times so. How was that even possible?

He looked down, suddenly feeling sort of dazzled. Her hand was placed on the pond's marble wall now, right next to where she was sitting. And he felt like it had been a millennium since he had last touched her; he couldn't wait a moment longer.

"Would I be too forward then…" he trailed off, meeting her eyes again. "If I asked to hold your hand?"

"Well, since you are not, in fact, looking for a plaything…"

"Oh good Lord…" he laughed, actually rolling his eyes, and thus briefly looking away.

And in that short moment, he felt her caress the back of his palm, softly as a whisper. Shocked by the unexpected touch, his head snapped downwards to see for himself. And sure enough, her delicate fingers were on his skin, tracing invisible patterns and leaving goosebumps everywhere they went. It felt impossible, how a single touch -out of the countless he had experienced- had the power to shake him like that. This girl… this impossible woman… how could she make him feel all these things all at once?

He looked up at her; her shimmering eyes focused on their hands, her lower lip curled slightly under her teeth in the most irresistible way.

He looked at her and in her he didn't only see the stars. He saw the entire universe. Breathtaking, mesmerizing. Miraculous.

And then he knew.

So this is love.

The room was huge. It was just titanic. She had thought the same thing of the ballroom the previous night, but this was a simple hall. It shouldn't be this huge!

An enormous window was covering almost the entirety of the right wall, the morning sunlight coloring the room in the most marvelous patterns. A few golden columns on the walls matched the shade of the gigantic main door, and a colossal chandelier was hanging so high up the tall ceiling that it actually didn't even seem that large.

"The prince will be here any minute." The Duke informed her. "I sent people to blow the horn."

"…The horn?" she questioned.

As of cue, the brassy note of a horn being blown echoed through the gigantic rooms.

"It's to signal your arrival." The Duke explained.

"Oh." Was all she could say. For some reason she felt as if her guts had just dropped to the floor. She never expected she would feel this nervous, and this damned horn just now only intensified the feeling immensely.

"Would you like something to drink?" she heard someone offer her. She turned around to see a short brunette, wearing a black dress as well as a white apron similar to her own.

She knew it shouldn't have, but the offer honestly surprised her. She smiled at the woman kindly. "Oh, no, I'm alright. But thank you so much, thank you."

The woman seemed surprised by the warmth in Cinderella's tone as well, and couldn't help but smile back.

The Duke grinned along, though none of the ladies noticed it. She is a great one, he thought. The king will be so pleased.

And right then, the double doors swang open, and a young man no other than the Prince entered the room almost running. He took a few hurried steps down the long green carpet, and looked around the room anxiously… until he spotted her.

And then suddenly he froze.

He didn't know what exactly he was expecting, but it certainly was not this. Before his eyes was a girl on her late teens probably, a servant wearing rugs and a white peasant girl headband. He was about to turn to the Duke and ask him if this was some joke, but then the girl lifted her face and looked right into his eyes.

He could barely hold back a gasp.

She walked down the stairs, mesmerized by the beauty of her surroundings; from the pond to the bridge, the white columns and the large clock tower. The lights from inside the castle made the shadows long and slender, complimenting so beautifully the scenery… as well as the features of his face.

She dwelled on the latter however, staring at it for too long. And when he smirked and she knew he noticed, she couldn't but blush and look away.

She walked down the final steps and sat at the edge of the marble railing. He followed, sitting beside her again. And aiming for nonchalant but pretty much failing, he took her hand in his own again, so delicately as if it was made out of glass.

"I have never…" he admitted, hesitating slightly. "I've never felt this way before. About anyone."

She looked up at his open face, seeking reassurance. "Felt how?"

He looked away, struggling for words. "Like… like I have wings and I can fly. Like anything is suddenly possible. It's such a complex feeling that I can't possibly describe it, but when I look into your eyes…" he trailed off, doing exactly that.

She hadn't realized it, but she had leaned towards him. And when he suddenly looked up, their faces were just inches apart. Her eyes widened at the proximity, never having been as close to another person before. She hesitantly looked up at him… And the swirls of emotion she saw there made her gasp.

As if suddenly magnetized, she raised her hand to his face, running her fingers slightly along his jawline before finally cupping his cheek. She leaner even closer, their breaths mingling together in the short space between their slightly parted lips. She only realized she had closed her eyes when she didn't see but rather felt him pull away slightly.

He shook his head with her hand still on his cheek, eyelids shut tight and features troubled. "We… we shouldn't. I shouldn't." he said, his voice torn.

She breathed slowly, trying to calm the fire springing inside her chest. "Why not?" She questioned.

"Because I… it's not right of me to steal a kiss like this. It's not proper, I should not…"

"Hey..." She murmured, forcing him to look at her, because the way she spoke that little word was just so intimate that he lost all control. He opened his eyes, and seeing her this close… with those endless oceans and pink lips and perfect little bangs, he could no longer look away.

"No rules. Remember?" she whispered with her warm breath caressing his face, having a delicious shiver run down his spine.

And unable to resist any longer, he raised his hand to tuck an escaping lock of her hair behind her ear. "No rules." He agreed in a whisper of his own, and got a glimpse of her brilliant smile before he closed the distance between them, and his eyes along with it.

She shivered. That was her first reaction. His eyes met hers with such intensity that the tingly feeling reflected on her entire body.

It was really him, standing right in front of her. He really was the Prince. The connection had never fully settled until this very moment, despite the number of times she had repeated the phrase in her mind.

She realized her memory of him, though only recent, had been a bit faint. It was as if she had been looking at him through blurring water, his features didn't seem so defined, his jaw not so prominent. His skin, she remembered, had seemed a bit paler under the moonlight than it did now, with the numerous rays of sun coming through the enormous window and caressing his face. And his eyes… they were a much warmer shade of brown now than she could recall. They had a strong dose of golden in them, they looked almost the color of honey… but even warmer, if possible.

The Duke said something, she realized. Because then suddenly he nodded, and his sultry lips twisted into a smile so bright it lit the entire room. Only when he started walking her way did she realize she had stopped breathing altogether. She was so numb she had no idea what her expression looked like.

He finally reached them, his eyes never leaving hers.

She took a sharp breath, his familiar scent hitting her all at once. It didn't help with her attempt to focus on the present. The buzzing in her ears slightly decreased though, just enough for her to be able to hear the Duke say something about her being a servant to her own stepmother…

The Duke spoke for a while, unraveling her own story, the story she had told the man on their way here herself, and along with it she watched the Prince's face switch from concerned to sad, to shocked, to furious and back to composed again.

She had no idea what those switches meant, she couldn't comprehend what hearing all this made him fell. And she knew that she probably had to say something, but she couldn't find her tongue. She was just numb.

Eventually, the Duke announced that he would go notify the King that the 'mysterious lady' had been found. A few more people followed him. A few doors shut. But she was only looking at him, and could register nothing else.

Only a minute had passed since he had entered the room, yet it felt like an eternity. When then finally, he shook his head at her, a grin on his face.

"You left." He accused her, eyes narrowing playfully.

She blushed, smiling awkwardly. And right on time, she found her voice again.

"I… well... I had a curfew."

He blinked at her, completely taken aback by her answer. And then he threw his head back and laughed in the most carefree and relieved way.

In a mere second, all her worries for this moment -for him learning the truth, for this being different- they all flew out the window. A major weight was lifted from her shoulders at once, the reunion so lighthearted that it surprised both of them.

And she laughed along with him at the impossibility of their situation, while pushing a strand of her hair behind her ear.

"How would you feel", he proposed, "about another walk out the garden?"

Her eyes gleamed, warmth filling her chest at his familiar tone. "After you."

He met her lips in a movement impossibly even more natural than their dancing earlier in the night. But still, he was completely unprepared. One would think that after the endless hours he had watched talk and laugh and smile that he would know everything there was about her lips…

But he hadn't imagined how impossibly warm they would feel pressed up against his own.

So warm… and so soft.

The feeling was so sensual that he couldn't form a single thought. His brain was on fire.

But before it even began, the kiss was suddenly over. She pulled away from the kiss as if she had been burned, and the lack of her warmth was so abrupt that it almost hurt him physically.

As she anxiously looked away somewhere to their right, he tried pointlessly to calm his now frantic heartbeat.

"Oh my goodness." She gasped, looking back at him.

Confused as ever, he studied her face. Her cheeks were flushed and her eyes wide, and he could tell her breaths were irregular. He didn't know whether that was an effect of the kiss –similar to his own- or she was bothered by something else. "What's the matter?" he asked with worry.

But she looked at the spot to their right again, and he realized it was the clock that held her interest. She abruptly stood up, when all he wanted was to keep her close to him. "It's midnight!" she cried in dread.

"Yes…?" He couldn't grasp what had her so upset. "So it is, but why-"

She bent towards him when he least expected it, and at first he thought she was about to kiss him again. But she didn't. Instead she held on both of his hands, her eyes meeting his with a new urgency he didn't nearly understand. She stood still for an endless moment, looking from his one eyes to the other, to his lips, to his every detail; so carefully as if she was trying desperately to memorize his face, fast as she could. The desperation was clearly evident in her expression, and he couldn't but feel his chest clench at the view.

"Goodbye." She muttered, giving him a sad final smile before letting his hands drop and turning to run away.

His heart stilled.

"No, no. Wait!" In a quarter of a second he was on his feet, grabbing her hand before she managed to slip away. "You can't go now, it's only…"

"Oh, I must." She said, trying to pull away. She was anxiously looking at the door, clearly wanting to leave. "Please." She turned to look at him, her eyes pleading. "Please, I must!"

That had him stopping on his tracks, because clearly something was very wrong. "But why?" he asked, growing all the more anxious himself as he watched her. He tried to meet her gaze, tried to understand.

But she was too upset to look at him. "Well I- I…" Her eyes kept glancing around, completely avoiding his gaze. "Oh, the Prince!" she suddenly shouted. "I haven't met the Prince."

"The Prince?" He blinked, completely bewildered for a moment. "But didn't you know that…"

And then it finally occurred to him. That was why he didn't remember her, because she had never been introduced to him. And thus, he had never been introduced to her with his formal title.

She didn't know he was the Prince. How could she possibly? He had never told her.

The large, tower clock struck midnight.

And her hand slipped from his own.

"Goodbye." she muttered again, her voice breaking, as she turned around and started running.

"Wait!" He yelled, desperation taking over him. He wouldn't hold her against her will, but he couldn't afford to let her go yet either. "Come back!" he pleaded.

She had reached the top of the stairs by that point and for a brief second she stopped. She turned to give him one last glance, the increased wetness in her eyes clearly evident, her tears shimmering under the moonlight.

And then she turned her back at him again, running inside. Her figure was lost from his sight.

He tried to swallow the lump in his throat, his mind running twelve miles an hour. Had he done something wrong? Should he not have kissed her, touched her? Should he not have declared his feelings for her? He feared he might have just scared away the only woman that had ever touched his heart, and the thought only made him want to vomit.

But suddenly a new, frightening thought occurred to him, and he felt his guts freeze, icy liquid running through his veins. He took a hurried step towards the direction she had just run off to, then another one, and another one… until he was running after her, fast as he could.

"Please, come back!" he shouted so loudly his throat hurt, but he paid it no attention. "I don't even know your name! How will I find you?!"

He run inside the ballroom with all his might, yelling and pleading for her to stop. But the music was too loud, and she was nowhere to be found. A crowd of girls that had apparently been looking for him all this time blocked his way, and by the time he managed to follow her out the main entrance, she was long gone.

He watched in despair as an army of palace horses followed behind a white carriage he assumed was hers, but the carriage was too far away and he knew there was no chance the guards would catch up. He felt his mind cloud, his own breaths coming out as gasps. Panic took over him, and he was unable to fight back.

"Your Highness! Sire!" Grand Duke's voice broke through the cloud of his despair. The man run up to him and stood on his side. "Sire, we are doing everything we can to reach her, but for what's it's worth… she left this behind."

He only realized his vision was burry when he couldn't understand what the Duke was holding up to him. He blinked rapidly, trying to get ahold of his emotions.

And then he saw it.

In the Duke's hand's was a slipper. A slipper made of glass, shimmering under the moonlight the same way her mesmerizing eyes had. So unique and so beautiful, exactly as she was. And he knew that it could belong to no one else.

He took the slipper in his hands, looking out to the darkness, to the shadows of the sleeping kingdom where her carriage had disappeared. I will find her, he swore. To her, to his own self, he didn't know. Whatever it takes, I will see her again.

Somewhere in the shadows, a flash of light and sparks signaled a transformation. But that was something the Prince didn't see.

"I still fail to understand why you had to leave so abruptly."

"And I will explain that… eventually." She made a grimace close to a wince. "But it is quite an unbelievable story, and I would hate to be thrown into a madhouse before I even get to…" she trailed off.

That had him pausing, turning to look at her. "I hold plenty of objections… but I would love to hear the end of that sentence."

She blushed. "Oh… Well, you know."

"Do I, really? What do you wish to do before you are locked into a madhouse?"

She chuckled, unthinkingly shoving his chest away. "It's so not funny!" she laughed, but then she looked at him and remembered that this was actually the Prince himself she had just shoved. There were laws that could have her beheaded right at the spot.

"Oh… my goodness." She muttered, jolting her hands away from him fast as she could. She bit her lip and looked down, keeping her hands behind her back. "I am so sorry, your Highness."

He frowned at her, shaking his head abruptly. "Whoa, whoa, what is this? No, hey, never…" he put his finger under her chin and lifted her head upwards so that she would look at him. "…Never say that again. Please. The last thing I want from you is to see me as a Prince. That doesn't at all define me. I'm just… I'm just me. A man who is crazy in love with you. Alright? That is all. No rules apply to the two of us, remember?"

She met his eyes, and the emotion in them was so deep that had her breath taken away. Yes she remembered. Of course she remembered.

With a small smile she shyly looked back down, though he was still holding her face close to his. "Before I am locked into a madhouse…", she giggled softly when he raised his eyebrows, "I wish to kiss you properly for once."

That took him aback, much so that for a second he could only blink at her. This extraordinary woman, who had possibly sent her his way?

"That will certainly be arranged. But first…" he trailed off, and to her surprise this time he let his hand fall from her face, taking a step back. She looked at him quizzically, but he was grinning playfully.

"I'm Henry." He offered, holding his hand forward for her to take.

She let out a chuckle, realization washing over her. They had never introduced themselves. Of course.

She was about to say her name was Cinderella, when the former words of the Grand Duke echoed in her ears. This was a new life she was starting, and to move forward, all she had to do was recognize her past, embrace her true self, and move on… And she knew just how to make the start.

"My name is Ella." She replied, taking his hand into her own in a handshake.

His entire face lit up. Finally, a name to the face. A name for the woman he loved. "Ella…" he tried it out, liking the way it sounded more than he probably should. "I can get used to that."

And then he couldn't wait a moment longer. With the hand that was still holding hers, he pulled her to him with a quick move for his lips to finally meet her own.

My heart has wings,
And I can fly
I'll touch every star in the sky
So this is the miracle that I've been dreaming of
So this is love