Summary: After the darkness of her difficult childhood, Serenity has found a single shaft of light in her unexpected friendship with Crown Prince Endymion, a relationship that gradually deepens to romance as they grow up together. Even though she's captured the heart of the prince, Serenity believes herself to be undeserving...as does the king when he discovers his son's affections have been secured by a mere servant.

After a royal threat forces Serenity to break the prince's heart, she tries to rebuild her life without him...good intentions that are thwarted when she stumbles upon an enchanted lake whose magic will transform her into one the king deems deserving to stand at her Endymion's side.

But all magic comes at a cost... The more Serenity is forced to sacrifice to the spell, the more of herself she loses, until she has becomes someone unrecognizable to the woman Prince Endymion initially fell in love with. Only beneath the moonlight does the magic weaken enough for her to rediscover her true self and the relationship she sacrificed.

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"Someone told me there's a girl out there
with love in her eyes and flowers in her hair..."

—"Going to California" by Led Zeppelin

6 months later...

.: Serenity :.

My dust rag hangs limply at my side as I take in the library, eyes wide with awe. Rows upon rows of shelves line the walls and stretches towards the glass-domed ceiling where golden sunlight falls in glistening streams to illuminate the room in a shimmery glow. I never imagined so many books could exist; possibilities of what each might contain tantalizes my mind, seducing me to explore more.

I push through the wonder holding me captive on the threshold and step into the room towards the nearest shelf to begin dusting, but have hardly begun when I succumb to temptation, allowing myself to be distracted by the tidy rows of books. I pull out the first one my index finger grazes, the worn leather smooth against my caressing touch.

After a moment's hesitation, I give into the impulse and ease it open. A vision of indiscernible black squiggles greets me, inky marks I know forms words but whose emerging remains a mystery, leaving me no way to access the beautiful visions contained within its pages, keeping this volume's contents forever out of reach.

For now it is enough to just hold a book, something I haven't done since... I force the haunting memory away before it can really surface, but already the visions of flames lap at the edges of my mind, threatening to consume all thought until nothing but this painful recollection remain. I squeeze my eyes shut to smother this spark before the traumatic memory could be stoked back to life.

The sound of the door opening suddenly pierces the library's reverent stillness. I snap the book shut but there is no time to return it to the shelf, so I hastily hide it behind my back as I turn to the face the intruder.

Some of the anxiety that cinches my chest eases at the sight of Prince Endymion. Though he's told me many times to ignore the formal gesture, I curtsy in greeting, the movement awkward with the book still tucked out of sight.

His friendly expression grows curious. "What are you hiding there?"

As much as I'm temped to lie, I can't bring myself to lie to Endymion by claiming it's a coincidence, but I'm too embarrassed to admit I've been looking at the books I only want to dust, not pursue. If Cindall learns of my faux pas, I might never be granted another opportunity to clean the library; already, after only moments in this room, I know I never want to leave—it's love at first.

At my silence Endymion takes it upon himself to investigate, approaching and peering around my shoulders. Knowing the battle is lost, I reluctantly pull the book out to show him. "I know I'm meant to dust, but I couldn't help..." I duck my head.

"You've done nothing wrong. The library is meant to be enjoyed." Not a hint of scolding fills his tone, granting me enough courage to peer shyly up in time to see his eyebrows rise as he takes in the title. "I've been gathering clues to better get to know you, but I never imagined you'd possess an affinity for military history."

Military history? I take the book with renewed interest. I've never considered that such a subject existed, but there are likely books for every topic one could imagine, with many beyond my realm of experience, an unwanted reminder of the vast distance separating me and the prince. An entire world lay at his fingertips for him to explore, yet he persistently settles for the remote corner where I reside.

Eager for a distraction from the depressed direction of my thoughts, curiosity compels me to tentatively ease the book back open. The letters remain an indecipherable code, so I flip through the tome to garner clues to the elusive topic. However, my fingers still when I stumble upon a rather grotesque illustration. My eyes bulge and I snap the book shut.

The prince chuckles. "I take it that military history isn't your secret interest, after all. I'm pleased we have that in common, then. Is there a particular section of shelves I can help you find?"

I shake my head. "As the servant assigned to this room, I'm here for work, not leisure. I just couldn't resist exploring—I've wanted to see the library ever since I've arrived here."

"I could have brought you any time. Feel free to visit as often as you wish."

Endymion's midnight eyes searches my face expectantly. I know what he hopes his generous invitation will help him find, but though I've been a servant for nearly half-a-year, he has yet to succeed in his earnest quest, second only to his continued determination to befriend me.

No matter how hard I've tried, my lips refuse to curve upwards, as if the muscles don't remember how. In my fuzzy recollections of my days with my parents I know smiles used to be as frequent as sunshine. Before my difficult childhood stole them along with every other glimmer of light.

I duck behind my hair. "I'm sorry."

Endymion parts the curtain of locks just enough to peer at me. "For what?"

"I still can't smile for you."

"There's no rush. I won't give up until I've earned not one, but dozens of your smiles."

I yearn for him to succeed even as I fear that if I finally give him what he seeks, he'll no longer have any reason to seek my company and I'll lose his companionship; there is nothing compelling about a common girl with a haunted past.

The thought of the loneliness that would come from severing this connection creates a void in my heart, which will only grow the longer I spend time with the prince.

I pluck another book from the shelf and run my dust rag over it before returning it for another. However, Endymion doesn't heed my silent signal to end our conversation; instead he watches with fascination a moment before holding his hand out expectantly.

I understand his silent request but hesitate, slowing and casting an uncomfortable glance at him. "Princes don't dust libraries." Especially when said prince has likely come to the library for another purpose entirely, one he seems strangely willing to toss aside without a thought in order to assist me.

"So you keep reminding me," he muses, shaking his head. "But doesn't it seem like an adventure to explore a library one book at a time?" Endymion wriggles his fingers in invitation.

I deliberate a moment longer before relinquishing the fight and handing him one of the spare rags I've brought with me. "Your charm is impossible to resist, Your Highness."

"Endymion." I've lost track of how many times during our acquaintance he's reminded me to dispel all formality. He waits expectantly for me to correct my address.

Unlike the smiles I still can't give, at least I can grant this wish of his. I duck my head as I whisper, "Endymion."

He brightens. "So, if you're charged with dusting the library today, we should choose a section," he said. "The shelves nearest the entrance contain practical subjects used by the various royal officials—military tomes, political volumes, historical narratives..." He points each out in turn.

Out of all the possibilities, there is one section I'm most eager to visit. "Does the library have any storybooks?"

He nods and leads me deeper, past dozens of undusted shelves and up a winding staircase to a balcony that circles the upper level. Streams of golden sunlight glistens across the spines. At the invitation, I unconsciously step forward, hand outstretched to graze the spines...only to pause inches away.

"You can touch them," the prince encourages.

As my gaze explores the array of books, my mind tries to imagine the stories contained within their pages, certainly as wonderous as those illuminating my childhood. My fingertips trace along the spines, as if I can access the stories through touch alone.

I freeze when I glimpse a familiar spine several rows above my head. Could it be...? I stand on tiptoe to make a reach for it, but I'm just a few inches shy.

Endymion notices and reaches past me to pull it from the shelf, his eyes alight with interest. "Is this the one you want?"

At my nod he hands it over to me. A sense of rightness enfolds me as I cradle it close, the feeling be being reunited with a dear friend. Though this copy is embossed with fancy leather and gilded pages, it is the same volume of fairytales from my childhood.

I don't know the title of my favorite tale, but my fingers still remember how many pages to turn to reach the familiar illustration of the maiden with a crown of daisies resting on her head, an image now aglow with vivid color, such a contrast to the shadows that fill my memories from the last time I saw it.

The prince's warmth enfolds me as he hovers over my shoulder. "'The Daisy Princess.'"

These words tug my hungry gaze away from the beautiful picture. "What's that?"

"The title of the story." He points to the squiggles crowning the page.

"The Daisy Princess,'" I whisper the words with reverence. "I never knew that's what it was called, but it fits the story perfectly."

"You know this story? What's it about?"

My excitement to share my cherished treasure with my new friend overshadows my shyness. "It's a story about a girl living in a far-off cottage who weaves a crown from daisies that are enchanted to make dreams come true. All sorts of wondrous events happen after she puts it on—the most important one being her meeting and falling in love with a prince."

I hide the heated blush engulfing my cheeks behind my hair. It's one thing to daydream about such fancies in the privacy of my own thoughts, and quite another to speak of something that could only be found within fairytales to the prince.

I've woven my fair share of daisy crowns, but nothing ever came of it... Until now.

"It sounds like a lovely story, Serenity." Tenderness fills his smile.

I nod. "Daisies have been my favorite flower ever since. They grow so cheerfully no matter where they are, a reminder to believe in the possibility of something more."

"Which would explain why you try to see the good in any situation. I've always admired that about you."

I lightly trace the dainty, painted flowers bordering the words I can't read. Even years after I heard Mother read this story to me in her lilting voice, I still have every word memorized. "I've missed this book."

Endymion's brows draw together. "What happened to your copy?"

The stronghold protecting one of my worst memories falters, allowing the recollection to return. "It burned."

The nightmarish images unfold, uninvitedly, across my mind—the peak of Mildred's drunken rage when she threw the book into the hearth. Time has done little to dim the heartache of the moment my most prized possession became consumed by flames until nothing remained of my precious stories but ash.

Despite the missing details, the darkness filling my eyes is enough for the prince to guess what happened. His expression clouds with a protective look, but instead of seizing his sword to face Mildred like a knight would a dragon, his reaction is far more unexpected.

"You can keep it, then," he offers, pressing it gently back into my hold.

"Oh, I couldn't—"

He places his hands atop mine, causing my fingers to curl more securely around the spine, silencing my protests. "It's yours, Serenity."

If there ever has been a time to smile, it's now, especially when he continuously gives me reasons to do so. I desperately try to command my lips to respond, but though I feel the corners twitch with the desire to obey, they remain uncooperative, held back by the shadows lingering from recalling such a painful memory.

"I wish I could give you a smile for gifting me this. I'll cherish this book forever." My loving touch caresses the cover.

"The smile in your eyes is more than enough." His fingertips lightly trace around them as he says this, similar to how I traced the illustrated border of daisies. "I'm glad I could make you happy. Perhaps I can persuade you to read your favorite story to me, sometime?"

I desperately want to share all of the stories with him—not just the stories that served as the only bright spots of my dark childhood, but everything with the boy who has been quickly become my first friend.

But, there's only one problem...

"I—I cannot read, Your Highness," I stumble over my words during the admission, my tongue feeling very heavy. Just as I am about to lower my head in shame, Endymion reaches out and gently holds it erect.

"Then I shall read them to you. And, if you'd permit me, I can help you learn," he offers, causing tears to suddenly prick at my eyes in response to his sweet offer.

Endymion keeps me company until his other duties force him to depart, but his presence lingers with the book he's given me. As I continue with my chores, my mind is preoccupied with beautiful daydreams of a girl with a flower crown and a handsome young prince.

︵‿︵‿୨୧‿︵‿︵

Dusk has settled by the time I finish my work for the day. My exhausted limbs ache as I climb the twisting staircase to the top floor of the servants' quarters. I share a small room with another girl, Francis. Considering how isolated I often feel within its walls, it is as if I sleep alone.

In the beginning, the other servants were friendly enough, albeit uncertain how to broach the barrier erected by my shyness. But they soon began to avoid me, only granting me enough attention to send me piercing looks and whisper to one another behind their hands. I'm not sure what I've done to warrant such treatment; perhaps there is simply something inherently wrong with me...

Halfway to my cot I pause, my gaze on my pillow where a single daisy resides. For a long moment I can only stare. I used to spend hours among the daisies growing in a field near my home, cheerful beauty until Mildred's cruelty forbade me from visiting.

I've only shared my love for these unassuming flowers with one other person, who has taken the time from his schedule to find one and climb several flights of stairs to leave it as a surprise for me. It must have taken him additional time to discover which bed is mine, the only clue being the story book under my pillow.

I perch on the edge of the mattress and lightly trace the flower's delicate petals whose whiteness seems extra bright in the fading light of the grey room. With each twirl of its stem I try to encourage my lips to curve upwards, but though the longing causes them to stir I still can't quite manage it.

The door suddenly bursts open to reveal Avenel, one of my fellow servants. "Serenity, have you seen—?" she pauses, her eyes narrowing in on the flower in my hands. "Did you take that from the royal gardens?"

I can't very well tell her that the prince has given it to me. And she doesn't seem to care to hear my excuses; instead she leans forward and lowers her voice to an accusatory whisper. "Being on friendly terms with the crown prince does not give you the liberty to pillage the royal gardens."

With that, she leaves in a whirl of linen skirts, back to her usual determination to ignore me. Her words provide enough of a clue for me to finally piece together why I struggle to befriend my fellow servants. Yet, as desperate as I am to escape their imposed isolation, I decided months ago that nothing could compel me to sacrifice my budding friendship with the prince.

Perhaps the fairytale I dearly love has caused me to cling to the realistic daydream, yet somehow a portion of it has become real through the prince's inexplicable kindness, given even without the enchantment from a daisy crown.

I wait until sleep has swallowed the servants' observation before pulling the book out from its hiding place. It's too risky to light a candle, so I go to the window where the moon allows me just enough faint light to refamiliarize myself with the precious stories.

I soon find myself focusing less on the illustrations and more on the daisy from Endymion. A pleasant warmth stirs my heart the longer I examine it. I carefully press the flower between the pages so I can always keep a portion of this feeling long after our differing stations eventually sever our acquaintanceship.

︵‿︵‿୨୧‿︵‿︵

Rather than the usual stories I create to fill my working hours, instead the prince's sweet gesture occupies my thoughts the entire next day. I wait anxiously for him to seek me out, which he finally does in the early evening when he finds me in the library continuing to dust the array of shelves.

Endymion offers me his usual bright smile, though I've told myself I will give him one in return for his gift, my lips remain uncooperative. Rather than pressure me, he simply holds out his hand for a dust rag and joins me in my task.

It takes several rows of books for me to finally summon my courage, along with my voice. "Thank you for the flower. I've missed the daisies that used to grow near my home."

His expression brightens. "It was my pleasure. I wanted to give it to you in person, but when I couldn't find you I decided to leave it for you, even if it meant I sacrificed the opportunity to witness your smile."

He seems eager to learn he's finally succeeded in acquiring one, and I feel bad for disappointing him. "I almost smiled. It's been a long time since anyone has been so thoughtful towards me."

Even with his failure he doesn't seem disheartened. "If a single daisy can earn an almost smile, then maybe..." His eyes light with an idea.

Before I can question him, he seizes my hand and tugs me from the room. I obediently follow, too alarmed to put up a fight even though I feebly protest. "Your Highness, I can't leave my duties—"

"Endymion," he reminds me yet again, his grin never faltering. "I'll help you so that you have time to finish, but this is too important to wait!"

I'm too consumed by the riddle of why a prince is so invested in winning a smile from someone of my rank, to care about the sharp looks cast by servants as we run pass; an attention that soon becomes eclipsed by his boyish eagerness and his hand wound around mine. I hardly watch where we're going, captivated by his fingers woven through mine, marveling at the warm strength and the fact that he has chosen my friendship.

Once outside, his mysterious destination is only a short walk beyond Swan Lake, to a small valley tucked between two mountains just past the royal grounds. Awe captures my breath as I still to take in the enchanting scene.

The setting sun casts a rosy sheen against the canvas of petals whose star-shaped heads are tilted cheerfully toward the light that hugs the horizon. My fingertips graze the flowers growing in a sea of white as I stand, awash in the surrounding beauty.

Something lightly rests against my hair. I turn to see Endymion place something on my head. With a bashful look he presents a crown of daisies as one might offer the crown jewels.

The bent stems has been woven haphazardly with clumsy, inexperienced fingers, with several petals having fallen off the flowers; some sections are bunched together while others are separated with large spaces between. But despite the clumsy attempt, I've never seen anything so lovely.

At my inquiring look he obligingly satisfied my curiosity. "I wanted you to relive your story." A rare insecurity cloaks him as she shifts his weight from foot-to-foot. "I know it isn't very good, but I hope you like it."

"It's very beautiful." The sweetness of his gesture far outshines the mistakes he made while crafting it.

He gently rests the crown atop my head. "Now you're a daisy princess, too, Serenity."

Something stirs within me as I reach up to stroke the flowers, a warmth that expands from my heart and reaches up to caress my lips. I'm not sure what's happening, but one look at Endymion's face tells me—his countenance lights up as he reaches out to trace my lips, now curved up in my first smile.

"I knew you had a lovely smile."

It widened at his words, the corners of my mouth touching his lingering hand. I haven't thought it possible for Endymion to succeed at his quest when he first embarked on it months ago, but I've never been happier to be wrong as my first smile lingers on my face.

"Thank you, Endymion."

It's the first time I've used his name without his title unprompted and unhesitating, but in this moment nothing else feels appropriate. I know that should this friendship of ours continue, this will be only one of many instances to come using his given name and bestowing the smiles he cherishes.

A/N: Hope you enjoyed!