You smiled down at the dashing blond prince as he entered your house. You tried your best to smooth out your ratty servant's clothing that you were given to wear from your stepmother. You looked down from the top of the stairs as he approached your two stepsisters (who are a word that starts with 'b' and rhymes with 'witches' for cursing is frowned upon in 'children's stories').

You let out a sigh as you gaze at the prince, with his messy blond hair and stunning green eyes (and a little bigger than average eye brows). You close your eyes, thing back to the night before when you fairy godmother/father/boy-that-you-couldn't-really-place-in-any-specific-gender-role, you were told to call him Feliks, granted you your wish to go to the big ball that night.

As you watched the scene below you recalled how wonderful it was dancing with the British prince, how light hearted you felt being twirled across the dance floor by those strong, firm arms. That is until the clock struck midnight and the spell Feliks had cast over you started to fade. Honestly, why would he make it end at midnight, all the fun stuff happens after midnight.

Suddenly you are wrenched from your thoughts when you spot a disgruntled little blond boy in a sailor suit carrying a pillow that has your glass shoe from the night before perched on top of it. Oh yes, you remembered now, it had slipped off your foot as you were fleeing from the party at midnight.

Now, deeply interested you try to sneak down the stair case a little farther to catch the tail ends of the conversation.

"All the young women on the house are to trying on this shoe, and I," you heard the prince say, "do intend to marry the owner of this glass slipper."

Upon this you promptly choke on air and being your immensely graceful self proceed to tumble down the remaining stairs.

You rub at the now multiple bumps on you're your head, inflicted to you by the cruel stairs. Cracking your eyes open you peer up to see a very startled prince, two disgusted step sisters and a livid stepmother, well this is just fantastic.

Scrambling to your feet you quickly curtsy and lower your gaze saying, "I am so sorry to have intruded upon you, Prince Arthur."

Shocked expression still in place he turns to your evil stepmother and asks, "I thought you said there were no other girls here?"

Your still livid stepmother says, "Well, it can't possibly be her," she tried reasoning. "besides wouldn't you remember what the girl you danced with looked like?"

A pink tint tinted Prince Arthur's cheeks, "Well, you see," the prince looked down at his feet. "I had a few drinks that night, and I danced with a lot of girls and…"

The feisty little blond boy holding the shoe interjected, "And he can't hold his liquor."

The prince sent the boy a glare and slapped the sailor's cap off his head. "Watch it, Peter."

Then Arthur turned to you and with a smirk eyed you up and down, he sent you a little wink before turning back to the others. "Well, regardless we will have all these lovely young women try on the slipper."

He sent the young blond over to the first on your stepsisters. Both you and the prince held your breath, hoping that the shoe wouldn't fit. Struggle as she may your less than kind step sister could not force the tiny glass slipper on her foot. The little sailor boy, Peter, snatched the shoe away before she broke it. Arthur gave you a relieved look as you let out a tense sigh. And the slipper moved on.

Arthur was simply about to forget the other sister and go over to claim you when a shout of joy echoed through the room. You both looked back, horrified to see your other stepsister's foot squeezed into the glass casing.

Your less than attractive stepsister (because what kind of evil step sister is it if she isn't ugly) slipped out of the glass shoe and began running for the prince. With wide eyes he side-stepped her leaping hug, leaving her to land on the poor unfortunate you.

With a snicker little Peter picked the shoe back up and walked over to Arthur's side. He snickered again and commented, "I guess you have your self a bride, maybe you can convince her to deep the veil on all the time." He continued to snicker.

The blond prince glared at the boy. Oh course, he combs the whole town over and in the last house he actually finds a girl that looks familiar and nice and her snotty sister's foot fits in the bloody shoe, oh the irony.

Just then an idea hit's the royal and he nonchalantly knocks the shoe off the pillow as you and your step sister try to untangle yourselves. The fragile glass shatters against the stone tile floor, scattering in all directions. Before your stepmother can yell and complain Arthur rushes over to you.

"Well, isn't that a shame, well at least we found a fit to it before Peter dropped it." He spoke a mile a minute as he came over and yanked you up by your arm. "I believe it was this daughter, well thank you so much for cooperating with us and giving me your daughter's hand." He started pulling you towards the door, not letting anyone get a word in. "Well, it's been nice meeting you all but we really must go. We'll invite you to the wedding. Or maybe not." He quickly slammed the door shut and took off pulling you towards the carriage.

Arthur let out a sigh as the carriage rolled away from the house. "Well, that was a disaster avoided." He commented.

You quirked your head to the side, "How do you even know it was my slipper?"

He looked up at you and smirked before saying, "I think my heart would know who I should marry a lot better than a shoe can."

You blushed at the sweet comment, feeling your heart swell with joy. He was so sweet and romantic.

"And you're wearing the other slipper."

Ok, maybe not that romantic.

Somewhat happily ever after. The End.