Story Blurb:

Blair has always had an infatuation with fairytales. She has dreamed of meeting her very own prince charming and falling madly in love just like they do in the stories. Hoping to live her own happily ever. Though there is nothing like a Chuck Bass to derail this fairytale. Two princes pinning for the heart of a young maiden. Who will Blair choose? Set in an AU

xoxoxoxox

Quick Note:

Inspired by the song Two Princes by Spin Doctor. I feel like that was a perfect song that seems to represent the Blair, Chuck, and Louis (or Nate depending on the season) triangle.

Hello! I was looking through my old USB and found this story here. Thought I'd upload it. Anyhow, to anyone who reads this, sorry for the grammar and spelling errors.

As for any fanfiction story, I do not own Gossip Girl or any of the characters. This is purely a work of fiction. Taking some of the elements and setting them in a new slightly alternative universe. With that being said, enjoy and let me know what you think! Have a great day/night!

Prologue:

Blair pulled apart the pink sparkly wrapping paper. She screamed for joy upon seeing the book her father had brought her, a new storybook. She ran to her father and smother him in kisses. "We have to read this story tonight!"

Her mother picked up the book and read the blurb on the back. Another story is about a princess and a prince. "I do not know why you always read her these stories. You are just filling her head with false hope and unrealistic expectations. It is not healthy for someone her age."

"They are just stories. Nothing to worry about Eleanor." Harold said. Trying his best to reassure his wife.

Eleanor rolled her eyes. In the mood to be right, she pushed the subject further. "Blair, what do you want to be when you grow up?" She asked her daughter.

"I want to be a princess when I grow up," Blair responded in a tone that meant it was an obvious answer. One might think they were asking the little girl about the color of the sky or if she had a pulse.

Eleanor massaged her temples and let out a deep sigh. "See." Harold could tell his wife was slowly losing her patience.

This was not the first time the couple had fought. Though their fights seemed to become more and more frequent. Not wanting to ruin the day he decided he would side with his wife, for now at least.

"You are already a princess." He told Blair. The girl smiled at her father. "But even princesses have occupations." His wife and daughter both sent him a questioning look. "Didn't you know Cinderella became a famous fashion designer? Sleeping beauty opened her own first aid company. Even Ariel became a diplomat for land and see folks?"

"None of their stories end like that daddy! They end up with a prince and live happily ever after." Blair told him.

"Well, they do get their true love, but it doesn't end on the last page of your story." His daughter searched his eye to see if her father was being honest or lying to her. "All fairytales have multiple parts to them. Every fairytale has follow-up stories. They are exclusive chapters that you can't read until you are at least 18 years old." He told Blair. "Right honey?" He hoped his wife would play along. If they both told Blair she was more likely to believe them.

His wife gave him a bit of a questioning look but ultimately decided to play along. "Yes. Many princesses even go to school to figure out what type of career they want to have. They attend schools like Princeton, Harvard, or Yale. No one wants to be just some pretty face." She decided maybe she should take a page from her husband's playbook. Using those stories Blair seems to adore so much to sway her. Maybe if she used this tactic she could make sure her daughter would go to college and not want to rely on a man. Eleanor did subscribe to the notion that it was never too early to start thinking about the future.

"So, let me get this straight. After I meet my prince, I go to college, find my career then comes happy after?" Blair asked.

"No!" Her mother screamed. "I mean you never know when you will meet your prince. You could meet him next year when you are 50, or you can meet your prince in college?"

"I heard there are a lot in Yale." Her father said.

"Why not Princeton?" She asked.

"Some go there too, but not too many. Its name is too on the nose. Don't you think so?" He said, giving her a small smile.

"Do you see what we are seeing dear?" Eleanor asked, placing her hands on top of her daughter's tiny hands.

"I think I get it. I don't want to be a princess anymore. You are both right, it is not a career." Her mother was happy to be getting through to her daughter. "I want to be queen." The color drained from Eleanor's face while Harold wore an expression of shock. "Isn't that a career? Look at Queen Elizabeth, Queen Jetsun Pema, and Queen Silvia. Don't tell me those women do not have a career as Queen, because their loyal subjects may have a few things to say about that."

Eleanor was still trying to find the right words to say. Her brain was scramming. How had the conversation turned South so quickly? She was sure she was making headway with her daughter. Instead, it seemed to be pushing Blair deeper into her narrative.

Harold was just confused as Eleanor. Though he was sure Blair would outgrow this idea of happy ever after, prince charming, and princesses, it was still amazing how she was so focused on this at her age.

Their daughter was stubborn after all. It was foolish for her parents to think that the outcome would not be this.

"Good talk mommy and daddy! It was truly insightful." She said giving both of her parent's kisses on the cheek.

"Dorota!" The seven-year-old screamed. "Grab your purse, we are hitting up the bookstore. I need to start learning how to rule a country. If I want to be a good queen, I have to learn the rules of the trade."

Before the young girl walked out of the apartment, she ran back to her dad. "Oh, and dad please give me the number for the prince of Manhattan." She asked. She handed her father a pink notepad and a pink pencil before leaving.

"Blair, New York doesn't have a monarchy," Eleanor screamed. It was too late. Her daughter was already out the door with the maid chasing after the little girl.