A/N: Hello and welcome to Roland and Miranda's story. There will be frequent flashbacks throughout and they will all be in italics. I will keep labeling them. Any single italic words are just to be said with more emphasis, or attitude, if you prefer. I really hope you guys stick with me because- well I won't spoil it for you. But this story is definitely going to be more interesting than the way I had it before. So here we go with chapter one. Enjoy!

Chapter 1 Roland

Flashback

King Roland the Second of Enchancia sat beside his wife in their master chamber. Her hand was tightly grasped in his. Roland looked up at her and felt a hot tear roll down his cheek. Her face was as pale as a the sky on a cloudy day. Roland hated to admit the truth to himself. But that truth was growing ever closer to a reality.

"Roland," she said weakly.

"Shh, save your strength."

"No. I..need to say this. I'm not…going to be here much longer."

"No, don't say that, please."

"It's inevitable. I...want you to know something. You are a wonderful man. You've…been nothing but good to me. We…had a rough start. It…wasn't in our hearts. But we got there..."

Roland felt several tears roll down both his cheeks. "Roland," she continued. "When I move on…I want you...to move on too…from me." She let go of his hand and reached up to touch his face, lightly brushing her thumb against his cheek. "It won't…be easy. But I want… you to find love...again. You're young…and the kingdom...will need…a new queen."

"No, I won't love another but you."

"I know you…feel that...way now. But please…do it for you. Do it for...James and Amber too…. Roland...please…promise me...that you'll…consider it."

Roland took her hand off his face and kissed her knuckles. He smiled at her. "I promise. My love."

She smiled up at him and squeezed his hand lightly. Roland watched as she let out a sigh and a smile. She closed her eyes just as her last, dying breath was lost. Her hand fell from his grip.

Present day

Roland sits up bolt right in bed with a sharp gasp. He looks to his left to find an empty space in bed. No, Roland thinks to himself. I won't ever love again. Roland lies back down and wills himself to go back to sleep. But try as he might, he can't. So he lies there and just thinks about his life and what his late wife had said to him before she died.

I promised I would be open to the idea, he thinks to himself. I never promised that I would pursue it. As the king lies awake, various thoughts jumble through his head, robbing him of sleep all night long. He can't stop thinking about it. He dozes off a couple times, but keeps waking up again with the thoughts plaguing his mind.

Eventually, he gives up sleep and gets out of bed. He slides his feet into his royal slippers and stands up. He walks over to his balcony window and looks out over his side yard. He rests his head on the wall for a moment and takes a deep breath. He looks out the window to his right and can just see a sliver of the village below. He sighs and his breath fogs up the glass.

Roland stands there, letting the cold surround him. He closes his eyes. When he opens them again, he instantly realizes it's light outside.

"What?" he says aloud. "I thought I just went to sleep. How is this possible?"

Roland hears the doors to his room open and turns around. "Who dares enter here?" Roland asks sharply.

"G-good morning, your majesty," the older man says.

"Baileywick," Roland says. "What do you want?"

"I…just came to wake you up, sire. I-it's time to start the day."

"Well, I've been up since the midnight hours," Roland spits. "And then you come barging in without so much as a knock!"

"I-I'm sorry, your majesty."

"Yes, yes. Go on. I'll be down for breakfast in a few minutes."

Baileywick bows and leaves the room in a haste. Roland scowls at his reflection in the window. "Time for another day," he growls under his breath.

He starts walking into the bathroom, feeling the cold marble floor beneath his feet. He looks down, knowing he has his slippers on and sighs. He goes into the bathroom and leans against the countertop. He lifts his foot and examines the bottom of his slippers. He growls when he sees the bottom of his foot and the worn fabric around it. He shakes his head and puts his foot down.

He turns around and looks in the mirror, nearly gasping in horror at the dark circles. "Ugh," Roland groans.

He turns on the water and splashes it on his face, hoping his raccoon appearance will go away. Roland looks up in the mirror again, his face dripping wet. Nope, he thinks to himself. Still there. He sighs and grabs a towel off the rack, wiping off his face. He gets dressed and heads down to the dining room.

Upon arriving, he sees his children are already there. "Good morning James, Amber," he says as he sits in his seat at the head of the table.

"Good morning daddy," Amber says.

"Morning dad," James says.

Roland hears Baileywick clap twice behind him and the servants come out with the food. They place the dishes in front of them and each begin eating. Breakfast is silent the whole way through. Not long after, James and Amber have to go to school. Roland kisses Amber's cheek and shakes James' hand as he does every morning before seeing them off. After Roland watches them leave, he turns around to find Baileywick standing right behind him.

"Do give me some space, would you?" Roland snarls.

"S-sorry, sire," Baileywick says handing him a long piece of parchment.

"Oh, alright," Roland grumbles as he snatches the paper out of Baileywick's hand.

"I-I could help you, if you like, s-sire," Baileywick offers.

"No! Be on your way!" Roland barks.

"Y-yes, your majesty," Baileywick says.

As Roland trudges down the halls toward his office, he hears his boots clicking on the marble floor beneath him.

"Oh, Blazing Palisades!" he yells, hearing his voice echo off the walls.

Roland turns on his heel and stomps back the other way. He searches all around the castle for Baileywick-in the ballroom; the parlour; the dining hall; and finally the kitchen. There, he spots the grey-haired man, instructing the servants.

"Baileywick!" Roland shouts.

Roland sees the man jump and turn around. "Y-your majesty. What can I do for you?"

"Likely story. You. Hall. Now," Roland yells. Roland walks out of the room and waits in the hall as Baileywick reemerges a moment later. "Where have you been?" Roland barks. "I was looking everywhere for you!"

"I was preparing everything for-" The steward stops when Roland holds up his hand.

"Never mind. I don't care. You offered to help me earlier. Now, you can. Summon the village cobbler and bring him to the castle immediately."

"Yes, your majesty." Baileywick turns on his heel and walks the opposite direction.

Roland turns around and walks to his bedroom. He grabs his slippers and heads into his office as quickly as possible. Setting the slippers down on the floor, Roland hastens to pull out a piece of paper. He slaps it on his large desk and begins writing as fast but as neat as possible. When he's done, he stamps it with the royal seal and folds it up.

Then, he brings a couple proclamations with him as he heads to the throne room. He sits down on the throne and four guards immediately enter-two on either side of him. He rolls his eyes and begins reading the parchment. He gets halfway through the second one when he hears a knock at the door.

"Come in," Roland says.

Baileywick enters the room and bows. "Your majesty, the-"

"Yes, yes. The cobbler's here, I know. What are you waiting for? Send him in!"

"But, your majesty, I don't think-"

"Don't argue with me, Baileywick. I don't have all day. Send him in already!"

Baileywick sighs. "Yes, your majesty."

Roland watches him lean halfway out the door and motion with his hand. No one comes in, at first. Baileywick motions with his hand again, and still, nothing. "Is there a problem, Baileywick? I'm losing my patience, here."

"No, there isn't a problem, your majesty."

"Huh, he's some man if he's afraid to face me," Roland says crossing his arms over his chest.

Baileywick motions for the third time and finally, Roland sees movement behind the doors. Roland uncrosses his arms. He leans forward and rests his hands on the armrests of the throne. His jaw drops to the ground when the cobbler enters the room. He looks up and down at the person. He picks his jaw up and tries to regain his composure by clearing his throat.

"The village cobbler, your majesty," Baileywick says before departing from the room. The cobbler curtsies to him, holding a briefcase.

"Y-you're a girl," Roland says.

"Woman," she replies.

Roland stands up off his throne. "You dare correct me?" he says.

"Yes," she replies calmly. "Because you need it."

"And I think you need to leave before I punish you for that!" Roland bellows at her.

"Alright, if you insist," she replies turning and walking to the door. "But good luck finding another cobbler," she says over her shoulder as she opens the door.

"Wait," Roland says reaching his arm out in an attempt to stop her.

"What?" she replies.

"I'm s-sorry," he huffs. "Can we start over?" he adds.

She closes the door and walks back over to where she was. "Show me you mean what you say," she says.

Roland thought for a moment and an idea came to mind. He steps down from his elevated platform and comes down to her level. "I'm sorry," he says looking into her eyes. "I truly am."

"I forgive you. But you are staying down here until I leave."

"You can't tell me what-"

"Up-bup-bup! The door is right behind me and I can easily walk through it. So, unless you want me to leave, you'll stay down here."

Roland sighs. "Fine. But the shoes I need you to repair are up there," he says. "Can I at least go back up to get them?"

"Alright, but if you don't come back down-"

"You'll leave. I know."

Roland turns and walks up the stairs to get the slippers and then comes back down again. He sets them down on one of the steps and walks over to her. "I believe starting over was in order?"

"Yes." She curtsies and says. "I'm Ms. Belthazar."

Roland takes her hand and kisses it. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Ms. Belthazar. I'm King Roland."

"Pleasure to meet you, your majesty."

"The pleasure is all mine," Roland says.

They look into each other's eyes for a moment as Roland still has her hand. She clears her throat and pulls her hand away from him. "So, why did you summon me?"

Roland turns around and picks up the slippers, handing them to her. "I need you to fix these."

"These are slippers, your majesty."

"Yes, I'm aware."

Ms. Belthazar picks up her briefcase and the shoes and walks over to the steps. She sits down and lays her briefcase down flat. She puts one shoe on it and holds the other one. She flips it over and examines it closely.

"Ah," she says. She picks up the other shoe and examines its sole. When she's done, she looks up at Roland.

"So? Can you fix them?" he asks.

"I'm sorry, your majesty. I cannot. These slippers are much too worn. Even wearing them one more time could make them fall apart. How long have you had them?"

Roland looks down shyly. "A-a couple years," he says.

She looks up at him with an arched eyebrow. "You're as bad of a liar as you are a king," she says.

Roland scoffs. "You have some nerve coming in here and insulting me like that, Ms. Belthazar. Why, I can just snap my fingers and have you sent to the dungeon for that mouth of yours."

"And what would that prove, your majesty? That you're cruel and ruthless? Oh wait, I already know that. So unless you want my business, I'll be on my way," she says picking up her briefcase and getting up.

She starts walking toward the door. Roland sighs and runs toward her.

"No, no. Ms. Belthazar!"

He grabs her arm and pulls her back into the throne room. He succeeds, but a blur later, she's in his arms leaning against him. The tops of her feet are touching the carpet as she just hangs there. Her hands rest firmly on his upper arms.

He looks down at her. He can hear her breathing heavily. She looks up at him with those light blue eyes of hers boring into his soul. He slides his hands down to her waist and lifts her completely off the ground. He sets her down. He smiles down at her. She smiles back. Then, she clears her throat and steps back from him.

"Ahem. Well, your shoes are beyond repair. But seeing as you already had a pair of slippers, I'm prepared to offer you a deal."

"What kind of deal?"

"Since I can't repair these, I'll make you new ones at a slightly discounted price."

"Why?"

"Oh, is that too below you?" she says.

"No I just-"

"Just what?"

"I-I'm just surprised. That's all."

"At what?"

"Surprised that you'd give me of all people a discount," he says.

"Well it must be because I feel so sorry for you."

"Sorry for me? Wh-why on earth would you feel sorry for me? I'm filthy rich; a ruler of a prosperous kingdom, and my people love me."

"Hmm, that sounds like a wonderful life."

"It is."

"Well, then allow me to shed some light on your 'wonderful life', hmm? You are just as stupid as a wooden ruler and, frankly, you're not a good one. Your kingdom is not doing very well, and the rest of the people down there," she says gesturing toward the door.

"Adore me."

"Fear you," she says.

Roland's expression changes.

"Your head is so inflated, that you don't even recognize what's around you anymore. So it sounds to me that your 'wonderfully perfect life' isn't so perfect after all." She picks up the slippers and puts them in her briefcase. "Now if you'll excuse me, I have some 'royal' slippers to make," she says walking toward the door.

"Ms. Belthazar, wait!" Roland says.

She turns around. "What?"

"Wait there."

"Hurry up, pretty boy. I don't have all day."

Roland ignores her comment. He runs up the stairs and picks up a piece of paper off his throne. He runs back down and hands it to her gingerly.

"What's this?" she asks with a scowl.

"It's a decree, stamped with the royal seal. Present this to the guards when you come back to the castle with the slippers. It's the only way they'll let you through the gates."

"And what if I don't want to come deliver the slippers and see your face?"

"Well, then I'll have to order my guards to have you deliver the slippers to me personally, so it won't make much of a difference, will it?"

"Touché," she says taking the folded paper from his hand. "Good day, your majesty," she says in what he takes as a mocking tone, before turning to leave.

"Y-you're not going to curtsy?"

She stops and turns around. "I curtsied when I came in. Is it really necessary when I leave?"

"It would be the polite thing to do, yes."

She smiles slightly. "Well, unfortunately for you I'm not. You should be grateful I even came to the castle in the first place. Good day, your majesty," she says leaving the room and disappearing behind the door.

Roland just stands there with his mouth agape. He closes it and stands up straight. Balling his fists, he stomps his foot on the carpet.

How dare she talk to me that way? he thinks to himself. Despite his anger, he catches himself in a smile. But it's gone in a flash. Fists still balled, he turns on his heel. Roland goes back to his paperwork, determined to get her out of his mind.