-The King-

He had been going through proposals all morning. A decision on selecting foreign dignitaries had to be made by the end of next week and the council was still in debate. To his surprise and delight, the best proposal he had read all morning was written by his son.

"Look at this Lettie."

His wife looked up from her needlepoint and he held up the thick stack of papers.

"Charles wrote this. I am making every attempt to remain unbiased, but every word is well thought out, researched, and concise. We may very well dictate the entire policy straight from our son's proposal."

Leticia laid down her needlepoint and walked towards his desk. She took the proposal from his hand and fanned through the pages.

"Well obviously. He has been working his whole life towards learning this."

The king nodded. "I thought perhaps we were too hard on him, but the results speak for themselves. He needed this."

His wife put the papers down, deep in thought.

"Where is our illustrious son?" She asked.

The King shrugged and turned back to his work.

"He asked for the afternoon off."

The Queen stilled; her hands froze on his desk.

"He just asked for the afternoon off?"

The king nodded, "the boy has worked hard Lettie. He deserves a break."

"He has been in the records hall for days reading every bit of policy and history he could get his hands on. From dusk to dawn he has taken every meal while working. He has not spared a single moment, and now he just asked for the afternoon off?"

The King shifted in his chair. He did not like the scheming look in his wife's eyes.

"Yes."

"And did he inform you what was so important as to need the entire afternoon off."

"Leave him be Lettie. He deserves a few hours to himself. Your mind is running away with you. I am sure he just plans on spending the afternoon engaged in some harmless activity with his friends."

Her hands curled against his desk, and she smiled. "You do not need to worry darling, I plan on leaving him to enjoy exactly what he had planned today."

The Queen took her hands off the King's desk and turned around.

"I will be back soon."

She said, and then she was gone.

The King was left behind to wonder what his wife's cryptic words meant.

-The Prince-

He had learned swordsmanship through years of awkward painful lessons. The first time he ever rode a horse, the stable master had said he'd never seen someone so unsuited for riding. The hours spent learning history and diplomacy were not pleasant memories, but even through all that, he had never felt as pathetic and hopeless as felt now, trying to figure out how to court a woman.

As the prince, women were usually hyper aware of his every action. They would swoon if he looked their way, which makes normal conversation very difficult, but it made flirting easy. Now he had finally found a woman he wanted to court, and he realized that his abilities were undeveloped and ill-practiced.

His desire to make some sort of gesture led him out to the garden where he picked flowers while ducking in and out of bushes whenever anyone passed by. He must have spent an hour in the garden trying to figure out which flowers would send which message, but after clinically inspecting each flower for any hidden meaning, he just ended up picking the ones that he thought were the most beautiful.

Once he had an armful of carefully selected flowers, he felt like a complete idiot. Flowers were not good enough; they are cheesy and boring. He considered throwing them off to the side to get trampled on till they wilted and died, but he could not bring himself to do it. There was something so simple about flowers, and these flowers were now intermingled with his sentiments.

Now, Charles was holding a bouquet of flowers, heading to Bellview, and feeling like a fool. He traveled to Bellview at a steady pace, stewing in trepidation. He wanted to run his horse as fast as he could go and arrive at Bellview quickly, but there was no point in risking the flowers just to arrive at Bellview full of adrenaline and out of breath.

When Charles rounded the corner and Bellview came into sight, he laughed at himself. He had been to Bellview before and seeing the tower through the trees never stirred any emotion within him. Now Bellview stood in a new light just knowing that it was her home. Words started leaving his mind in droves and he tried to reel back in the words he would need for the difficult conversations ahead.

I am the prince. I am the prince. I am the prince. The words repeated over and over in his mind. Those were the most important words he had to say to her, maybe even more important than his own feelings. If she rejected him for misleading her it would crush him, but it would be deserved. He told no outright lies, but subtle lies are lies enough.

He left his horse tied to a hitch post and took the stairs to the door. He had spent every minute this week thinking of how he could possibly explain everything, and he was still going in without a plan.

He knocked on the door. The flowers felt silly in his hand. Declarations of love felt foreign to him. He waited until he heard noises and the door scraped slowly open.

She was the first thing he saw, and he smiled. He had an overwhelming feeling that everything would be okay. The truth was an obstacle, but there was no obstacle that could keep him down.

Immediately he noticed her eyes were dead. She did not smile at him, she stood severely at the threshold of the house. It was out of character for her to behave so coldly, and he felt an even bigger fool for bringing the infernal flowers.

"I brought you flowers." He said quickly, trying to explain himself. "I am sorry. They are a little overbearing, aren't they?"

He wanted her to laugh and agree with him, then they could throw this whole flower thing behind them, but to his horror, her eyes welled up with tears.

For a moment, she had the look of someone trapped. Her face was pure misery and so many questions fought for his attention, but he did not get a chance to answer them.

Before he could say or do anything, the door slammed shut in his face.

He was alone again, standing on the same step, but now he was completely uprooted. He scoured his memories of their last meeting and he picked apart his every word and every action.

His heart plummeted when he came to the only possible conclusion. The only reason he could think she would have to have such an extreme reaction would be if she had discovered his deception. He reeled out of control imagining every horrible thing she must think about him.

He wanted to push open the door and give her an explanation she didn't ask for. He wanted to turn around and leave for the castle. The steps of Bellview were torturous. There was an impassable rift between them, and he was at fault.

He did not have to dwell in misery for long. The door opened and Cinderella emerged. Her eyes were red and puffy, but they were completely devoid of tears.

"I am sorry." She said, avoiding his eyes.

There it was again, an apology. He did not want to hear those words from her lips.

"Never apologize to me." Her habitual remorse made him angry. He hated that she felt she needed to apologize to him of all people. "I deserve your anger, but never your apologies."

She met his eyes curiously. "I have no reason to be angry with you, so if I cannot be sorry, I do not know how to feel." She said softly.

Guilt hit him like a wave. She did not know. She still had no idea he was the prince and now she was trying to make him feel better. This was all wrong. He needed to just tell her, right here and right now, but her eyes swam with tears again and he had to say something before the door shut again.

"Please, what has upset you?" He asked.

She shook her head and drove away the tears with the back of her hand. Her blue eyes were defeated, and her face swelled with despair.

"Nothing has upset me." Her tone was low and barely perceptible.

"Nothing has upset you?!"

She was still a mystery to him. Her feelings and thoughts were interwoven in a situation he did not understand. Perhaps the only thing he understood in the moment was that something was wrong.

"I love the flowers." She said, finally looking him in the eyes. The tears had stopped again, and she managed to smile.

"They are for you." Everything he had to give was hers already.

"But I cannot accept them."

There it was. The truth. She was rejecting him. Not the flowers, she loved the flowers. She did not want flowers from him. There was nothing he could think to say. There was nothing that needed to be said.

"I cannot accept them because I am engaged."

He drew in a deep breath the same moment he tried to speak, and words got caught in his throat and he fell into a long fit of coughing. Confusion overwhelmed him. For a small moment, he almost felt like crying himself.

Engaged?

He was dumbfounded, and every word and thought he had begun pouring out of his mouth.

"Engaged? To be married? To someone else?"

In just a few words all his plans crashed to the ground around him. He had been so worried that his feelings were developing too quickly, but apparently, he was not fast enough.

"Yes. I am engaged to be married to someone else."

Her mouth was in a grim line as she delivered the bad news. Her words had stoned him dead and hallowed him out. He was in crisis mode, and the only thing that he could do was put on a smile for her and pretend that he hadn't just been gutted.

"Well that is-" he searched for an adjective, any good supportive adjective that did not relay his feelings, "great, isn't it? I am excited for you."

She smiled thinly.

"Everything just came so unexpectedly; you have to believe me. All of this was arranged by my stepmother as a type of business transaction. I barely got a day's notice before I was informed that I was betrothed."

He did not like the sound of that. A business transaction. It was the same way his own future prospects of marriage were often discussed. Of course, Lady Tremaine was found at the heart of this. He was beginning to foster a growing contempt for the lady of Bellview manor.

"Who is the man?" He shouldn't have asked, and if Cinderella had any desire to go through with the wedding, she should not tell him.

"Lawrence Seaver."

Hi eyebrows flew up, an unexpected name in an unexpected situation. The last time he had heard about Lawrence Seaver was when his father had to turn down the third and final marriage proposal on his sister's hand. Even back then, rumors had always existed about exactly the kind of man Lawrence Seaver was. Something settled in him as a kind of resolution. That man would not be marrying Cinderella.

"Do you want to get married to him?"

Charles had already decided that he would break off their engagement or die trying, but he needed to hear the words from her lips. He needed to know that this was not his own feelings getting in the way of her happiness.

She met his eyes for a long minute of silence, and he already knew the truth.

"I do not see any point in wanting anything. It is already arranged."

"What you want matters."

In fact, it was the only thing that mattered to him.

"I wish I had the privilege of choosing, but the truth is that I am not in any circumstance to want anything better than what I've been given."

"Where has all this talk of circumstance come from? Titles and circumstances can be hanged. I care what you want."

Her hand reached out across the distance that remained between them and she placed her hand to the side of his head tenderly. Her smile was a picture that told a thousand stories. She was trapped by her circumstance and couldn't escape.

"This might be the last time I see you. I don't know when the wedding will be, but knowing my stepmother, everything will be done quickly."

It was the word quickly that had done it. He knew what needed to be done and it had to be done with all haste if he had even the smallest chance at succeeding with the plan that was forming in his mind. He grabbed her hand and pulled her out of the doorway. He stepped down a step so that they were nearly eye to eye.

"I need to leave." he said.

"You just got here!"

"I know, and now I need to leave."

She was hurt by his declaration; he could see it in her eyes. She did not understand why he was leaving, and after all her revelations, he felt like a jerk for just walking away, but he had a mission now that had the highest importance.

"I will be back I promise. Next week at the same time."

"I will be married by then" She asked miserably.

He smiled at her. She would not be.

"Well, if you are married by then, I guess I will just have to visit Lawrence Seaver's house. No matter what happens, I will find you."

She was not going to say another word to him about leaving, but he could still see her disappointment. He grabbed her right hand and brought it slowly to his lips. They stared into each other's eyes passing along feelings that they could not express. He lowered her hand and let go of it with a lot of difficulty.

"I will be back." He said again, hoping that when he returned, she would forgive him for his hasty exit.

"Charles." She said softly. Her voice kept him anchored in the spot. She opened her mouth as if she was going to speak to him again, but she never made any noise. Instead of speaking, her arms leapt from their place at her side, and she wrapped one hand around his shoulder and one hand around his neck. She pulled him into a delicate kiss, and he knew in that moment who he belonged to.

He moved the flowers from between them and wrapped his arms around her waist and he deepened the kiss. His new plans were tossed aside because he had her in his arms.

"Just come with me." He said, pressing his forehead to hers. His mother would die of a heart attack if he showed up with a woman, and his father would find it incredibly amusing. Cinderella would likely kill him the moment she found out he was the prince, but nothing mattered. She was unhappy here at Bellview, and the fastest way to fix it would be to just take her to the castle.

"I cannot. I am engaged to be married next week."

"Tell your stepmother that you have received another proposal." Charles said. It was incredibly foolish of him and improper to propose in such a fashion, but at that very moment he would have said anything to convince her to come with him.

"My stepmother would never approve of you." She said, smiling at some sort of secret joke.

"Lawrence Seaver is taller than me, is that it? Or is it that bags of money that your stepmother is interested in?"

Cinderella put bother her hands on his shoulders, separating them. "It has nothing to do with you. My stepmother would not like to see me happy, so she would never allow it."

Charles grinned from ear to ear with a new determination.

"I am leaving now, but I will find you next week. You cannot escape me."

He grabbed her hand and gave her the flowers.

"These are yours, and before you say anything else, you must know that if you do not take them, I am likely to strangle them the moment I am out of your sight."

She put the flowers into the crook of her elbow.

"Thank you." She said, "For everything. You will never know what you have done for me just by making me feel seen."

Every step that took him away from her was like walking through glass.

Charles made it home in record time with only one goal. He was going to break an engagement even if he had to go to drastic measures to do it.

When he got to the castle, he did not even stop to unsaddle his horse. He left Jump with a stable hand and then went straight to his father's study.

-The King-

He was eating lunch and bouncing ideas off the steward when his son stormed into the room. The steward jumped when the door flew open.

"Son, you are back."

It had only been a few hours since he had sent his son off, but it seemed like everything about him had changed. His eyes were focused and full of adrenaline. He walked across the room.

"I need to make some changes to my proposal." He said.

The tone of voice he used was commanding and insistent. It was not the tone of voice that the King was used to hearing. He immediately began shuffling through the papers on his desk to find his son's proposal.

"It is already perfect Charles. You will drive yourself mad if you try and work on it any further."

"There is one major oversight I need to correct."

The King passed the stack of papers to his son, but instead of leaving, he pulled a chair up to the end of his desk.

"Can I have a pen? It will be faster if we do this together. Oh, and we need to call a council meeting. We are deciding this today."

The King looked at the steward. The steward's mouth was hanging open.

"You heard the Prince. Get the council members. We are deciding this today."