A/N: Yay! Excellent response to the first chapter! Thanks to Hyperactiveice, Insanecat6, Lanamax Kurosaki, and loki lee for their awesome reviews! Thanks to everyone else who faved and story-alert'd as well. Enjoy the second installment of this crazy silly Cinderella story.

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Chapter II

Prince Axel was furious. He was so furious, in fact, that he really wanted to burn something. And, even though Axel would admit that he was something of a pyromaniac at the best of times, when he was really in the mood to burn things, something wasn't right.

Axel stormed into his father's council room, a piece of high quality parchment rolled up in his fist. "Father, what is the meaning of this?" he asked, enraged, his voice echoing off of the walls of the dark, ovular chamber. "I want an explanation."

Xemnas, who had been engaged in a heated discussion with his five closest advisors, turned around in his high-backed chair. "Oh, that," he said. "They went out with the morning post. I'm so glad you got one. It would be unfortunate if your own ball was a surprise party."

Some of his advisors snickered at that. Axel rolled his eyes. His relationship with the Council of Five was strained, at best. They were really only there for decoration; Xemnas wouldn't let anyone else control his Land that Never Was, and everyone knew it, except, perhaps, for the Council of Five, who went around with their noses in the air, wearing spiffy black robes which designated their importance. The only person on the Council to whom Xemnas might have actually listened was Saïx, his prime minister, a man who looked like he was part noble, part wolf. The rest were just there to pretend they were being productive.

Glaring at all of them, Axel unclenched his fist, smoothed out the letter, and read, "'All eligible maidens in the Land that Never Was are invited for a chance to have a personal audience with his Royal Highness Axel von Fersenrose de Oxenstierna?' Father, what were you thinking?"

"I told you I would take matters into my own hands," said his father, quite unruffled. "And I have. Don't worry; Xaldin, Lexaeus, and Zexion have agreed to oversee the preparations, so you can just sit back, relax, and enjoy the ball."

Three of the Five nodded. However, this did nothing to calm Axel down. "It doesn't matter! I mean, no offense to you guys—" Every offense. Shame on them for going along with it. Shame. "But if the entire party is just going to be a whole lot of girls parading past me, it's going to be the most boring night of my entire life."

"Boring? As if," said Xigbar, who was second-in-command after Saïx and sat on Xemnas' left. "You'll still have food and dancing to distract you, and beautiful women like you've never seen." He winked at Axel with his one good eye.

"But I don't want to look at beautiful women!" Axel exclaimed. "They aren't interesting!"

"This kingdom needs an heir. Another one, since you're not prepared to take on your royal responsibilities," Xemnas said. "And, if local rumors are to be believed, I'm not getting any younger. So, two nights from now, you will go to the ball. You will meet every girl that never was in this Land that Never Was, and by the end of the night, you will select the one which you like best, based on your own standards. The next day, you will wed her. In nine months, she will have your child. Then, we ship her off to one of our auxiliary castles, and you go off cavorting with whomever you like. Can you think of a better way, Axel?"

Sufficiently chastised, Axel rolled his eyes and dropped his arms by his sides. "No, Father," he said, sullen.

Xemnas nodded sternly. "Saïx, if you would escort my son back to his room. We have a ball to plan, and a country to run."

Saïx took Axel's arm and led him out, but not before he heard his father say, "And now, for the flowers. I know an excellent florist. Zexion, if you would…"

The door closed. Axel glanced at Saïx, but the man was as unexpressive as ever. He and Axel's father were quite the pair. Axel sighed, and allowed himself to be dragged all the way across the palace by the blue-haired man, who, once they'd reached the residential wing, sat Axel down on his four-poster bed and left the room without a backward glance. Oh, Saïx. Efficient as ever. A charmer to the last.

Axel stared up at the ceiling. It appeared that he was trapped. Not that he doubted that his father's plan would work; Xemnas was far too good at this sort of thing. But he really, really disliked the notion of marrying some poor, simple creature and then carting her off to a distant corner of the kingdom. Truthfully, that was why he'd been resistant to the scheme in the first place. Sure, he lacked any carnal feelings for the fairer sex, but they were people, were they not?

Besides, a marriage was a sort of binding contract. And if Axel carried on with his usual adventures regardless, he'd feel guilty, because he'd made a promise to someone who was waiting for him in a drafty tower somewhere. Someone who'd had his child.

Wait a sec, this was getting far too sappy. Axel shook his head and tried to think reasonably. There was some sort of clichéd storybook convention clouding his thoughts and making him feel unnecessarily guilty. He instantly reconsidered this whole wife matter.

It was a lost cause, he figured. He'd cross that moral hump when he came to it. It was probably easier to brush off than it seemed in theory.

Axel sat up and rubbed his palms together. "Great. Requisite emotional crisis and moral exposition over. Now that I'm a vaguely sympathetic character, let's see…Well, as long as I'm going to have to go to this ball, I might as well find myself something nice to wear. Can't be wearing that same old suit from the last one."

He stood, found his plainest jacket, which was lying crumpled up in a ball on his floor, and headed out. Perhaps he'd find inspiration in the town.

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Of all of Roxas' chores, shopping had to be his absolute favorite.

Not because he had any particular love of buying things, mind. He didn't even get to pick out many of his purchases: Marluxia was very specific in the shape, size, brand, color, etc. of whatever he wanted Roxas to buy. And Roxas didn't particularly like being seen by normal people buying roses or yards of pink fabric.

No, Roxas liked the market because he could go out in the sun. Unlike the other members of his messed-up family, he loved the sun. After all, Vexen was always in his basement lab, and Larxene lacked the desire to go outside. Even Marluxia, who, Roxas suspected, probably had chlorophyll in his blood, made Roxas carry a parasol to shade him while he gardened, so that his complexion wouldn't be spoilt.

Roxas also liked shopping because it was one of the few times he went out in public, which meant that it was one of the few times he was allowed to wear actual pants. Contrary to popular—well, Marluxia's—belief, Roxas loved wearing pants. They allowed him so much more freedom, freedom to run and jump and behave like any other teenage boy, than the skirts did. Roxas' market costume usually consisted of brown trousers, a white shirt, and a plain blue jacket, although he often added a gray newsboy cap for good measure, just in case someone who'd passed by his house happened to recognize him by his hair.

Boys' shoes were another excellent invention. Roxas adored them. Be they boots or just regular, everyday loafers, he relished the way they actually fit his feet. At the end of most days, his feet were so swollen from the heels he usually wore that he had to soak them in warm water every night before he went to sleep. Not so with regular shoes, which were far more practical and far more comfortable than anything Marluxia forced him to wear.

Marluxia had sent him to the market because they needed new cloth and ribbons for dresses for the prince's ball. And his step-family was far too lazy to do think about actually doing their own shopping themselves. Because, gasp, then they'd have to walk somwhere.

Roxas didn't mind, though. He liked the dust and mayhem of the town square, and he liked looking up at the towers of the grand palace, where the king lived. His hat kept his face clean and made him feel like one of the common laborers, just taking a break from lifting or shoveling or whatever common laborers did. He'd also befriended a couple of street urchins who knew nothing about his home life, and that was fine. It made him feel like he had an actual life away from his evil step-family.

He was also able to get his shopping done quickly because he knew the girl who worked at the ribbon stand, and she always gave him a discount. Then, he could spend the rest of his time in the market doing whatever he wanted.

"'Morning, Olette," Roxas called, addressing the slim brunette rushing behind the counter.

Olette, who had been in the middle of measuring out a fuchsia ribbon for another customer, looked up and waved cheerfully at him. "Hey, Roxas! I'll be with you in a sec, okay?"

"Sure, that's fine," Roxas said, waiting patiently on the other side of the counter. Now that he looked, there seemed to be a good many more women than usual at the market that morning. Some were arguing with merchants, some were gossiping in little groups, and some were busy checking items off of scrawled lists, loaded baskets on their arms.

When Olette approached, he asked, "What's with the big turnout? Does it have to do with the ball?"

Olette giggled, then sighed. "Oh, does it ever. The square's been crowded like this since the invitations went out. It's a good day for ribbon-selling. Actually, you're lucky you got here so early. At this rate, I'm going to sell out by the end of the day."

"Yeah." Roxas glanced around again. "The ball's all they're talking about at home. To tell the truth, I'm not quite sure what the big deal is."

"Oh, the glamour, the romance, the chance to marry a handsome prince…I guess it wouldn't appeal to you." Olette winked at him. "Boys. I'd love to go, but Hayner would object. I suppose that makes me an ineligible maiden."

Hayner was one of Roxas' urchin friends. He had been sweet on Olette for forever. "You should go. Maybe you could convince him to escort you there."

She sighed again. "I should, shouldn't I? It would be fun. I'd get to dress up and feel special for a night. And besides, there are plenty of eligible girls, so it isn't very likely that the prince would marry me anyway. I could tell Hayner that."

Roxas opened his mouth to protest—he thought that Olette was quite pretty, and that she had a charming personality, and that any prince would be lucky to marry her—when one of the women waiting behind him said, "You should try for it anyway, dearie. That prince is quite the looker. I saw him at a jousting match a couple of years back." She gave a long, rasping sigh. "If I were only thirty years younger…as it is, I'm certainly sending my daughter."

Olette and Roxas laughed at that. "Well, what can I do for you, Roxas?" Olette asked. "As much as I'd love to keep talking, the line behind you stretches halfway to the palace."

Roxas nodded and handed her the list. As she searched her inventory for the right ribbons, the lady behind him asked, "What are you doing with all that stuff, honey? Are you taking some lucky girl to the ball and showing her off in front of the prince?"

"No, it's all for my sisters." Which was partially the truth. Roxas tipped his hat a little lower over his eyes. "My…mother is quite adamant on their attendance. I think that…she…wants to be a royal mother-in-law."

"Don't we all," the woman mused. "Shopping for your mother. Bless your little heart. Any mother is lucky to have you for a son."

Roxas had to bite his tongue very, very hard.

"This is everything, Roxas," Olette said, returning not a moment too soon. She handed him half an armful of ribbon, and he dropped it in the basket and got out the money Marluxia had given him to pay her with. When he tried to hand it to her, she held up a hand. "It's on me this time. Go treat yourself to something. I'll see you next week, right?"

"You don't have to—"

"I want to!" she pressed. Then, lowering her voice, she added, "You look like you've had a rough time of it lately. Go enjoy yourself. I'm making enough today to last me a year."

"Wow, thanks." With his spare change, Roxas was going to buy Olette something really, really nice. He made it a mental promise. "I have to go finish this list. See you next week!"

She waved to him as he left. Oh, Olette. She was always so nice to him. She was always nice to just about everyone. Roxas thought she rather liked taking in strays, which was why she got on so well with Hayner. But she could be such an angel sometimes. Roxas thought that if he ever married a girl, she would be just like Olette. Of course, he had no idea who he was going to marry. He barely had any idea what he was looking for in a love interest. Aside from his town trips and the occasional harassment by royal heralds, his human interaction was limited. So he wasn't sure what his type was at all. He barely even knew whether he liked women or—

His train of thought was cut off abruptly when he walked smack into someone else's chest. He hadn't been paying attention at all. He was knocked to the ground, landing half on his side, and his basket of ribbons went flying and landed a few feet away.

"Fuck," he said, pushing himself up. "Just my luck."

Someone extended a hand in front of his face. He blinked at it. "Hey, I'm sorry," said the person who'd knocked him down. "I wasn't looking out for common—er, people. Need a lift?"

Roxas took the hand, which was rather large compared to his own, and allowed the other man to pull him up. He dusted off his pants, glancing at the ribbons, which were scattered in the dirt road. "Mar's going to be furious," he muttered.

He bent over and started picking them up. "Here, let me help you," the other man said, and started to pick them up as well. "That's an awful lot of ribbon for just one boy."

"It's not for me," Roxas said. "It's for my evil stepsisters."

"That's a shame," said the man, holding up a silky, light blue ribbon. "This one's the same color as your eyes."

Roxas froze. "I'm sorry, what?"

The man shrugged and held up his hands. "Don't blame me for looking. You're very cute."

"Oh no," Roxas said, snatching the ribbon out of the man's hand. "Look, thank you for helping me get back on my feet. That was nice. But I've been hit on enough in my lifetime, and I don't need to go through it again here. Good day."

He started to walk off, quickly, in any other direction. The man laughed, but sounded vaguely confused. "What makes you think I'm trying to get in your pants, kid? It was just an observation."

Roxas didn't know why he faltered, but he did. He turned back around. "I don't know. People just always seem to do that to me. It's never 'Hello, how are you today?" and always 'Hey babe, why don't you and I go fuck in back of the store?' And I don't know why. I wish I did, so I could make them all stop. So, I'm sorry if I misinterpreted your intentions, but I'm not going to—" He stopped, and realized that he'd just been blurting out his frustrations to a total stranger. His cheeks burned, and he tipped his hat down in an attempt to hide it. "I'm not going to stand here and talk about this anymore. Have a nice life."

"Hey, hey, wait," said the stranger, running forward and grabbing Roxas' arm. "Look, I'm sorry. How about I make it up to you? There's an ice cream place—"

Roxas had been planning on spending his extra money there, but now the option didn't look so appealing. "Sorry, I have to run off to the fabric shoppe."

"I was just going there, too! I need some material for a new jacket." Roxas' disbelief must have shown on his face, because the man added, "It's for the ball."

"Oh. Escorting your girlfriend?"

"Something like that," the man muttered.

Roxas instantly relaxed. That seemed plausible. And if the man had a girlfriend, then he wouldn't be hitting on Roxas. "Sure, I'll show you where it is. Err, sorry about before. I guess I shouldn't have assumed you were trying to…you know."

"No worries," said the man, who was glancing peculiarly off to the side. He coughed. "So, hey, fabric shoppe."

"Right." And with that, Roxas set off in the direction he'd been walking before the unfortunate collision.

The fabric shoppe was located a couple of blocks out of the market square, and Roxas took advantage of the walk to study his traveling companion. The other man was tall, perhaps a few years older than Roxas, with—now that Roxas looked closely—decidedly memorable features. Hair that red and that long would be hard to forget, and there was a strange, upside-down teardrop tattoo under each of the man's piercing green eyes. His clothes were nice, clean and perhaps expensive-looking, and would probably be categorized as fashionably disheveled.

All in all, he was really quite handsome. And he hadn't really propositioned Roxas, which was another point in his favor. It was sort of a pity, now that Roxas was thinking about it, that he had a girlfriend to escort.

"Well," he said, "This is our stop." He stood outside the door of the shoppe.

The man gave him a curious look. "Aren't you going inside, too?"

"Oh, right. Inside. Yes." Roxas was mentally kicking himself. He couldn't allow himself to get so distracted by someone who'd just knocked him over in the marketplace. It just wasn't done.

Of course, this pretty much confirmed that he was interested in men. Marluxia would be overjoyed.

The stranger laughed. "Let me guess. You hit your head when you fell and have yet to fully recover?"

"Err…"

"Hey, I know when I'm being checked out. You, my little friend, are a hypocrite." The man put a hand on Roxas' shoulder. Roxas looked away. "There, there. I've been told I am quite dazzling. It isn't your fault."

"The shoppe," Roxas protested.

The man removed his hand and opened the door. "If it makes you feel any better, I don't actually have a girlfriend."

"It makes me feel like you're propositioning me again," Roxas said, walking up to the counter and setting down his slip of paper for the old man who owned the store to read. "And that's not good."

"Hey." Roxas' companion held up his hands. "You can relax, I promise. We've established that I think you're cute, you think I'm cute, and now we can get over it and have actual conversation." He made as if to shake Roxas' hand. "The name's Axel."

"Roxas," Roxas said, but he didn't shake Axel's hand.

"You still don't trust me." Axel frowned.

"I can't help it that I'm a little wary. Like I said, I've had bad experiences."

Retracting the arm he'd extended, Axel set his elbow on the counter and leaned his head on his hand. "Just humor me for a second. Why do you think so many men have hit on you?"

Because I spend half of my time in a maid fetish costume, Roxas thought, but he couldn't exactly say that out loud. Not to someone he didn't know. "I'm not sure. You tell me."

"Well..." Axel thought for a minute. "You're short, but you're very well built, and you buy ribbons in the marketplace, which some men who are not quite straight might take as a cue that you'd be receptive to their advances. Also, you have a good facial structure and nice eyes—although I can't see them anymore now that you're hiding your face under that hat. And your hair…" He squinted. "I can't really see much of it, but I'm sure it flatters your face in some way. Oh, and you're young. Young people are infinitely more likely to be hit on than your average person."

"How would you know?" Roxas asked, secretly tickled. "Experience?"

"Oh, no one's ever overtly hit on me," Axel said, waving him off. "With my father around, they wouldn't dare. I've been given that look you were giving me countless times, though, so that counts for something. And, of course, when my father's not around…"

"Your father's controlling?"

"A tyrant," said Axel.

"I have a feeling he and my stepmother would get along well."

Just then, the old man who owned the fabric shoppe returned with Roxas' order. Roxas paid for the fabric and really should have left, but he sort of wanted to stay and chat with Axel. Axel was interesting, and there was something about the way he spoke which caused Roxas to relax. He was so candid, but not in a creepy way. Roxas didn't really get that a lot.

"For you, sir?" the old man asked.

"I, er…" Axel glanced at Roxas. "What do you think? Black?"

"Black," Roxas agreed. "With gold trim, when you finish it. It'll be nice."

Axel nodded. "I like that. Black, please. The finest you have." As soon as the old man had gone to the back of the shoppe, he turned back to Roxas and said, "So your stepmother keeps you locked in an ivory tower, eh?"

"So to speak," Roxas said, unwilling to elaborate. "And speaking of ivory towers, you obviously don't get out to the market much. The finest he has is really expensive. He usually keeps it reserved it for nobles or royalty because they're the only ones who can afford it."

"That won't be a problem," Axel said. "Now, er, don't take this the wrong way, but are you attending the ball on Saturday? You know that all eligible maidens have been invited, and their escorts may accompany them."

"I know. But I am neither an eligible maiden nor an escort. My stepmother's taking my…sisters." Well, Larxene and Vexen. Again, they sort of counted. "So I was planning on staying home."

"Really? That's a shame. I'm afraid I'm going to find it deadly dull." The old man returned with the fabric and named the price. Roxas expected Axel to be shocked by the figure, but instead he paid without complaint, almost without breaking his train of thought. The old man bowed very, very low, and retreated. "It would be nice to have someone to talk to while I'm there."

"Talk to or look at?" Roxas asked.

"Both," Axel admitted bluntly. But instead of being surprised or offended, Roxas smiled. "Do you think you could find away to come? I'd really appreciate it."

"Well, my stepmother probably won't be too happy about it," Roxas mused. "H—uh, she never lets me go anywhere, and I'm not exactly on the guest list for royal balls."

"That won't be a problem. Here." Axel reached into the pocked of his coat and drew out an envelope with a large, red wax seal, which Roxas recognized from the invitation. "I have some connections at the palace. That will get you in."

Roxas blinked. "Really?"

"Absolutely. Just show that to the man at the door, and then come find me. I'll be wearing that black jacket with gold trim. Got it memorized?"

Roxas didn't really know what to say. "Um, yes, I guess. This is all very spontaneous."

Axel laughed and pressed the envelope into Roxas' hand. "That's the best way to do things." He picked up the bolt of fabric and hefted up it under his arm. "I'm going to head home now. I really enjoyed this, Roxas."

"Yeah," Roxas said. "Me, too. It was nice to meet you."

Axel winked at him and left the shoppe, leaving Roxas a little stunned, a little dumfounded, and a little giddy. Suddenly, he found himself very much looking forward to the ball on Saturday night.

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A/N: Oh, Roxie, I have a feeling Mar's not going to be too pleased with this development.

Anyway, liked? Hated? Please drop a review! I like to know what you're thinking, good or bad. See you at Chapter III!