You couldn't believe it when this lady asked you to dance. I mean - surely. Surely she didn't think she was good enough for you, right? But, with a glance behind you at your father, you could tell by his expression he may have some choice words for you if you said otherwise.

You gently take her hand in yours, her nails smooth and kempt. Or, at least, that was the first thing you noticed. Her skin felt pappy - soft. She was a royal, after all. You couldn't expect her not to take care of herself. This didn't change the fact she was the shortest, most unattractive little thing you've ever seen... Right?

When you were talking to the other royals, her excluded, you found out what others thought of her. You felt bad. Bad for her because of her stigma and looks - and yourself, because that night you fell in love with her.