Never in a million years had Greyson imagined that he would have royalty step foot in his humble bakery, yet here was his royal highness himself standing by the counter. As Greyson emerged from the safety of the kitchen, he couldn't help but marvel at the unusual sight. The prince looked completely out of place standing in the common-looking bakery. He was so polished and put together. Every detail of him was precisely crafted, from his well-managed locks, to his spotless suit, to the very edge of his perfectly trimmed fingernails. It wasn't as if the bakery was dirty. The baker took great pride in the upkeep of his establishment. It just wasn't a particularly fancy place, nor was it meant to be. To Greyson, it was perfect.

The matter of the visit had clouded Greyson's mind with worry. Why was the prince here? What did he want with Greyson? His heart began to race. Did he know about his complicated relationship with Ella? Did he see them kiss in the square? Was Greyson about to be punished for kissing the prince's fiancé-to-be? He had to keep a firm grip on the countertop to keep from fainting. The prince had not yet heard the baker come out of the kitchen. Greyson watched with nervous eyes as the prince looked around the shops, eyeing the cakes and bread alike. Greyson spoke up to make his presence known.

"Hello, your highness," he greeted with an awkward bow. He was not accustomed to greeting royalty. The prince perked his head up at the notice of the shop owner.

"Ah, yes," he greeted in return. "Mr. Fitz, is it? The baker?"

Greyson nodded. "Yes, sir."

The prince gave a warm smile and yet Greyson could not read his expression and decipher his intentions. "You and I are due for a conversation, Mr. Fitz. I think it would be a crime to step foot in this charming bakery without enjoying its treats. How about we chat over a late afternoon snack?"

Greyson began to sweat nervously. "Yes sir," he replied, swiftly retreating to the safety of his kitchen. What do you feed a prince? More importantly, what did he want to discuss with Greyson? No matter how courteous the prince had been, Greyson doubted that their conversation would be pleasant. Every possibly bad thing that Greyson had done throughout his life ran through his head. He had, of course, never committed an actual crime. When he was about 12 years old he and one his friend, the son of another local shopkeeper, had stuck frogs in a great number of the townspeople's mailboxes. It was a foolish prank by foolish children but was it possible that the prince had known about it? Greyson had hoped so, for the only other conversation topic was a kindhearted blonde who he wasn't quite ready to give up yet. As for conversation snacks, Greyson eventually decided upon a tray of delicately frosted cookies along with a serving of tea. With hands shaking slightly, he brought the tray out to the prince, who was already seated at one of the bakery's tables, with two guardsmen standing by the doors.

Greyson set the tray on the table and the prince gestured for him to take the seat opposite him. Greyson sat down and clasped his hands together tightly, as if he were trying to squeeze away the fear. The prince took a cookie and ate it, not speaking for what felt like forever.

When he finally did speak, it eased Greyson a tiny bit. "These are quite delicious, Mr. Fitz," he observed, reaching for another cookie.

"Thank you, sir," Greyson replied.

The prince continued to eat and then after a while he shifted his focus to the matter at hand. "Now, Mr. Fitz, I can only assume that you are curious about my presence here," he started. Curiosity was a dramatic understatement to the crippling anxiety Greyson was currently battling. "You see, Mr. Fitz, I am searching for someone I just can't seem to find: the mystery princess with whom I danced at the ball. As you know, I intend to marry her. She is to be the future queen of this kingdom and I cannot wait to call her my wife. But you see, there is one problem," he gestured over to one of the guards, who handed an item to the prince. The prince then placed the item on the table. It was Ella's glass slipper, the one she had left on the steps of the palace when she ran away from the grand ball. Greyson's pulse quickened and his heart sank as he thought of the uncomfortable situation that was unfolding before him. "I cannot find her," the prince explained. "I haven't been able to find her since the ball. She ran away from me that night."

You and I both, thought Greyson.

"So many have claimed to be her, and yet, despite my searching, she has not yet been found. This is where you come into the matter, Mr. Fitz,"

"Me?"

"Yes. You see, I have recently returned from this town's local tailor in search of my lost princess. The woman was very kind and listened to me describe my bride-to-be. When I spoke of her, the tailor explained that she had seen her before about town, she said that my mystery princess was a friend of the local baker, which is of course, you, Mr. Fitz. So my question for you is: where is she?"

Ella was sitting at her windowsill, rather delighted because for the first time in a while, she was away from the chaos. It was such a nice feeling because her life had been so hectic ever since the ball. Her one regret in this whole adventure was that she wasn't more forward with her feelings for the baker. If she had just told him earlier, before this whole mess with the prince occurred, who knows where she'd be right now?

"What a mess indeed!" Ella said to herself

He pulled out a scrappy rag from his apron and began to clean up the yellow residue. "I'm a baker," he laughed, "I've had my fair share of these messes."

Ella thought back to her very first encounter with Greyson. That too, was a mess. A different sort of mess, however, one of a dozen broken eggs, not of two confused hearts. Ella wondered if she could've known after that initial encounter with the baker that he would soon become such a large part of her life. Could she have possibly predicted such an outcome after the flour-caked hand reached down toward her that day?

Ella smiled to herself as she looked out the window. From this height, she could just barely see the top of the tallest tower in the town. Was Greyson in town right now? Was he thinking of her?

Greyson felt his chest tighten at the question. "Ella," he thought "Ella," He had to tell the prince where her home was. For one thing, it was treason to lie to the royal family and Greyson was not one to break the law. Also, it would be a total injustice to Ella not to reveal her location. He couldn't let his own selfish longing ruin Ella's chance of attaining a perfect life. He had to do the right thing, even if that meant sacrificing his own feelings. It felt like he was stabbing his own heart with a knife, but Greyson described Ella's house to the prince. He told of the way to get there and how to find the lovely little estate that housed his best friend. The prince was very grateful for the information. He stood up and began to prepare for finally meeting his mystery princess. Greyson felt his heart sink knowing that the situation was now completely out of his hands. He was practically walking Ella down the aisle himself to her wedding at this point. Her wedding…

"Wait!" cried Greyson, standing up suddenly. The prince raised an eyebrow at his exclamation. "Excuse me your highness, but for your wedding, would it be terribly out of line for me to ask if I may make your wedding cake?" Greyson asked, remembering the promise he made to Ella months ago.

The prince laughed and gave Greyson a hearty pat on the back. "Mr. Fitz, after I've eaten those cookies I have a feeling you'll be doing a lot of baking for the palace," the prince said cheerfully

Greyson offered up a weak smile in response. "Out of curiosity, how do you plan on proposing?" He was trying to get himself used to the inevitable future. He would no doubt hear all of the excited details from Ella later after it had happened.

The prince thought of this for a while before finally replying. "To be honest, I assumed I would still be searching for her at this point," he explained. "I thought I'd have much more time. I didn't even think to bring a ring with me," he said the last sentence quietly and looked toward the ground as if he were in shame of having to propose to his princess with no ring. Greyson felt bad for him, despite what it meant for himself. Suddenly, he had an idea. He told the prince to wait for a moment as he hurried upstairs to his residence above the bakery. He returned moments later with something in his hand. His arm outstretched to hold the item up to the prince. In his hand was a very simple ring. "It was my grandmother's," he explained. "I figured Ella would want a proper proposal."

The prince carefully took the ring and looked at it curiously. "Ella?" he asked, tasting the name on his lips for the first time.

Greyson nodded. "That's her name. Ella."

The prince smiled at this. "Ella…" he said again, trying it out. He was lost in thought for a while until he suddenly looked up at the baker and smiled, handing the ring back to him. "It means the world to me that you were willing to do such a kindness, Mr. Fitz. It is a very beautiful ring. I'll just have Ella select one when we get to the palace. We have a rather fine collection. Besides, I want you to save this for the woman you love."

I won't be able to, thought Greyson as he took back the ring and put it in his pocket. With that, the prince bid the baker farewell as he and his guards began to head off to Ella's home. Greyson saw them off with a heavy heart, for his dream was officially over when he could no longer see the trail of guards over the horizon. He turned to get back to tending his shop when he noticed that the prince had left Ella's glass slipper on the table!

Oh no! Thought Greyson. Now how was the prince going to prove that Ella was the mystery princess? Greyson grabbed the slipper and ran off towards Ella's house, following the prince.

The Lady Tremaine was delighted to open her door and see the prince standing in front of her home. She gave an unnecessarily dramatic bow. "Your highness!" she purred. "Are you here to see my daughters?"

The prince nodded curtly. "I am indeed, miss," he replied.

Tremaine invited him in and led him to their sitting room as she eagerly fetched her daughters. She spent the last valuable moments straightening out their hair and their dresses while she tried to calm them down, as both were about two seconds away from screaming. When she re-entered the room, she introduced them as if they were royalty themselves. "Your royal highness, may I present to you: Anastasia and Drisella Tremaine," both girls made an extravagant show of themselves. The prince was highly confused, for neither Anastasia nor Drisella looked like his princess who he had danced with on the night of the grand ball.

He cleared his through. "Erm, Miss Tremaine?" He questioned, "Do you, perchance, have any other daughters in this household?"

Tremaine was taken aback by the question, but she did her best not to appear flustered. "No more daughters of mine, your highness."

The prince grew suspicious. "Are you saying you have no other women in this household at all?"

"None."

An uncomfortable silence filled the room. However, it was this silence that allowed the prince to hear a faint noise coming from the upstairs of the house. As he listened closer, he heard the faint sound of singing. A woman's singing, to be exact.

He gave Tremaine a stern look. "Lying to a member of the royal family is considered treason. You do know that, don't you, Miss Tremaine?"

The Lady Tremaine feigned a light laugh. "We just have an ugly scullery maid who lives in the attic. She can't possibly be of any use to you. She is my late husband's daughter. I can assure you, she isn't what you are looking for." She grew anxious.

"I will be the judge of that. Bring her down here at once," commanded the prince.

Reluctantly, Tremaine ventured up to the attic to get Ella.

Ella was having a lovely time tidying up her attic. She sang a song that her mother used to sing to her as she dusted away at the shelves and swept the floors. She was truly in bliss. Suddenly, the door to the attic burst open and the Lady Tremaine marched inside, an ugly scowl on her face. She approached Ella and grabbed her arm forcefully.

"I don't know how you did it, girl," she hissed in Ella's face. "I have no idea how on earth you managed to fool me, but now the prince is demanding to see you."

Ella began to panic. The prince! How had he found her? Her plan was perfect! How could he had known about a third girl in the Tremaine household? How did her plan fail? What was she going to do? Ella thought of all the possible options for escape as Tremaine forcefully dragged her down the stairs. She as well was unhappy about the turn of events, to say the least. On her way down, her heart grew heavy as she thought of Greyson. How foolish she was to think she would get to have a life with him. How foolish she was to dream. Now, she would be stuck living some other girl's fantasy. She felt tears begin to well up in her eyes. There had to be a way out of this, there just had to! She couldn't fathom a life where she would not get to see her baker, a life where she would be trapped in a castle with a husband whom she did not love.

When they approached the bottom, Tremaine shoved her out in the prince's direction. His face immediately lit up in recognition. He had finally found her, His mystery princess. He bowed in greeting. Ella just stood there, as stiff as a board, wishing desperately for a way out.

He smiled up at her, his eyes filled with glee. True, she looked different than when she was at the ball. Her hair was a mess, her dress was worn and torn, and her face had traces of cinders on it. However, it was unmistakable that this was Ella, his soon-to-be-wife. "Are you Ella, the amazing woman who danced with me the night of the grand ball?" he asked excitedly.

"…no" Ella lied quietly.

"No?" the prince was startled at her answer. Surely he was not wrong on this. She must've been shy, or perhaps her stepmother put her up to this ruse. He patted at his belt for the slipper. Not even the stepmother could deny the proof when the slipper fit. His hands felt around, but nothing was there! He was stunned that the slipper was not at his side. He must've left it at the bakery!

"Yes she is!" yelled a voice down the hall. Greyson Fitz sprinted into the doorway, completely out of breath. As he regained his lungs he observed the scene before him in incredible confusion. What was Ella doing? Of course she was the mystery princess! Why was she doing this? Greyson pointed at her. "She is the woman you danced with, your highness."

"No, I'm not!" Ella denied. What was Greyson doing here? She felt her heartrate soar at the sight of him, exhausted and confused in her doorway. Why was he trying to expose her? Ella's brain was overwhelmed with feelings. She felt rejected, because Greyson giving her away showed her that he didn't feel the same affections she felt towards him. She felt upset, because she was trying her hardest to avoid marriage to the prince and yet her best friend was denying her lie. Most of all, she was tired. Tired of this mess, tired of the prince, tired of everything. She wanted it to be over. "I am not the mystery princess!" The other members of the room looked on in total confusion.

Greyson groaned in frustration. Why was she making this so hard for him? He was trying to help her with her dream! He was doing this for her! "Yes you are, Ella and I can prove it!" He yelled, pulling out her glass slipper that the prince had abandoned at the bakery. Ella stared in complete horror as Greyson rushed toward her with the slipper that she was never supposed to see again. He looked into her eyes and Ella looked into his, unable to read what was going on in his mind. "Please sit down, Ella," he said firmly, his voice catching when he said her name.

"No." she replied with equal stability.

"Ella, please," he insisted, breaking with each request.

"No, I won't." Ella protested, crossing her arms.

Greyson put a hand on her shoulder. The two were dangerously close now. "Ella, please, do this for me," he begged. He was determined. Ella reluctantly sat down in the chair behind her at his request. Greyson knelt down in front of her, the slipper in his hand. Hands shaking, he carefully removed her right shoe. When it was bare, he moved to place the slipper on her foot. Suddenly, Ella quickly moved her foot away from the slipper, as if it were as hot as a stove.

"No!" she cried as Greyson continued to try in frustration to put the slipper on her.

Greyson rose his voice "Hold still!"

"No!" Ella screamed back at him, the tears were beginning to well up at the corners of her eyes again. She gripped the arms of the chair for support.

"Ella! Hold still!" Greyson yelled back at her. She continued to dodge him.

"No, don't!" she screamed.

"Ella, stop!"

"No!"

"I'm doing this for your own good, now stop!

"NO!"

"ELLA!"

It was a full-on screaming match as the two continued to yell in frustration. Tears were beginning to trickle down Ella's eyes and they began to form in Greyson's as well as he tried to create what neither of them wanted. Greyson looked at her and she could see the sheer desperation in his eyes, as if he wanted nothing more than to do this for her, to give her the life he thought she wanted. It killed her. They continued to fight on.

"ELLA, STOP IT!"

"NO!"

"YES!"

"NO, NO, NO!"

"PLEASE, ELLA!"

"NO!"

"PLEASE, ELLA!"

"NO!"

"WHY WON'T YOU JUST LET ME DO THIS FOR YOU?"

"BECAUSE I'M IN LOVE WITH YOU!"

The screaming stopped. Time itself seemed to stop. In that last moment of chaos, Greyson had managed to get the slipper on Ella's foot. It now stayed there, a perfect fit. Greyson stared in a complete, stunned silence. He looked up at Ella and he couldn't breathe. She stared back at him, her shaking hands covering her mouth, as if that could possibly have stopped the words from pouring out of her. The tears were silent as well as they glided down the side of her face. Everyone in the room was frozen, completely astonished at the revelation that had taken pace.

With his voice breaking, Greyson asked quietly: "what did you say?"

Ella stared back at him, still amazed at what she had done.

"Ella?"

"I'm in love with you." She said slowly, still shaking.

"What?" he asked, completely dumbfounded.

"I fell in love with you when you reached out to me." Ella explained, putting out the feelings that had been trapped inside since their first meeting. "I didn't know it, but I was in love with you when you gave me the eggs. I was in love with you when we danced in your bakery. I was in love with you every time you held me, and every time you wiped away my tears and I was in love with you when you kissed me in the middle of the square." She took a deep breath as she looked at the man she loved who was kneeling in front of her with an unreadable look on his face. "Greyson Fitz, I am hopelessly in love with you."

Greyson felt absolutely weightless. She…loved him? She loved him? He loved her! All this time feeling hopeless, and she loved him the whole time. She actually loved him. He couldn't believe it. He looked up at her as if she were the sun and couldn't think of what to say. But there was only one thing to say:

"I'm in love with you."

Now it was Ella's turn to be speechless. After all this time, the feeling was mutual. Ella could hardly believe it.

"You do?"

"I do."

"Now you understand why I don't want to marry the prince," she said softly.

"But you could have anything you wanted," he thought out loud.

"I want you."

"All I have to offer you is my love, he can give you the world."

"You are my world, I love you."

The two stared at each other with happy tears falling down their faces at the realization that both of their dreams were coming true. Just then, Greyson remembered something that he had accidentally brought with him.

"I suppose I was going to do this eventually. But now seems as good a time as any." He reached into his pocket and pulled out the ring that once belonged to his grandmother. "Because I've always known that I wanted to spend the rest of my life with you, but now I just can't wait for the rest of my life to start." Ella released a soft gasp at the realization of what he was doing. "Ella," he asked, trying to keep his voice from breaking, "Ella, will you marry me?"

Ella covered her mouth as tears overflowed from her eyes at the overwhelming happiness she was feeling. "Yes," she replied quietly to him. "Yes, I will!"

Ecstatic at the turn of events, Greyson stood up and pulled Ella up with him. He fumbled with trying to put the ring on her finger, and they both laughed at the moment. Once it was on, Greyson pulled her to him and kissed her. She immediately responded, reaching round him and bringing him closer. Their faces were both wet with tears yet neither cared. Greyson wrapped his arms around her petite frame as if he was never going to let her go and she wove her fingers through his hair and held him with the same intensity. The two stayed in the blissful, happy moment until they finally separated. When they looked up, everyone stared at them with shock, except for Anastasia, who couldn't help but tear up at the moment.

"I'm so sorry, your highness," Greyson apologized to the prince, who had clearly seen the slipper fit on Ella's foot.

The prince simply smiled back at him with a look of understanding. "You have absolutely nothing to be sorry for. You too love each other more than anyone I've seen. I give you my blessing."

And with that, Greyson leaned down to kiss his fiancé. And Ella smiled as she kissed the baker.

Her baker.

That's a wrap! That's the story! My first fanfiction completed! I honestly cannot thank you guys enough for your support of this little adventure. When I first wrote it, I didn't expect to get past three chapters, but you all inspired me to take this story further than I ever thought it could. This is your story as much as it is mine. Thank you.

I will post one last chapter: an epilogue! Expect that soon!