Chapter 1: The Villager's Ball

Once upon a time, in the village of Dunwiddie, in the kingdom of Enchancia, there lived a simple girl named Sofia. She was the daughter of the village seamstress, and had grown up knowing how to make a Swizzle Stitch before she had completely gotten the hang of walking.

For those first few years, it was just her and her mom. There was no one else, and they needed no one else. Enchancia was ruled by a benevolent king, King Roland II, and none of the common people were poor or destitute.

Sofia held great admiration for King Roland, and for his ability to look after his people. It had to have been difficult, to give of himself so much in the way that he did. For several years ago, her mother, Miranda, explained, the king had lost his Queen. She had apparently died in childbirth, leaving the king with two children. Sofia had never caught even a glimpse of either the young prince or the princess, much less met them, but she felt sorry that they had to grow up without their mother.

One fine morning, Sofia was returning from the village market, several new fabrics in hand, which her mother would need for dressmaking orders. The spring season was to be a busy one, as it almost always was, for that was when King Roland held the Villager's Ball. It was an evening when the doors of the palace were thrown open and all the villagers were allowed to enter the halls and dance and indulge in other forms of merriment. The Villager's Ball was Sofia's favorite time of the year, and it would be especially so this year, for this was the year Miranda had said Sofia was old enough to attend. When she was little, Miranda and Sofia would stay home on the night of the Villager's Ball. Miranda had not had anybody to watch her little girl, so she couldn't go. That had always made Sofia very sad, that her mother could not at least enjoy, but Miranda had always laughed it off. "I made everyone else's dresses anyway, Sofia. That's tiring enough."

It was a beautiful sunny day, this day as Sofia skipped home from the Village Market. Further down the cobblestone streets, she caught sight of two familiar faces. "Ruby! Jade!"

Ruby and Jade were Sofia's best friends. They lived adjacent to one another and had played in Sofia's front yard for as long as any of them could remember.

"Sofia!" Jade cried. "Is it true your mother is taking you to the Villager's Ball tonight?"

"Yup," Sofia beamed. "This fabric is the last of what we need so Mom can take up a dress for me."

"Finally!" Ruby whooped. "We all get to attend the ball together! Hand clap, hand clap!"

The Hand Clap was an old game between the three little girls. Sort of like a secret handshake. But it was unusually intricate because it also featured a rhyme, and this is how it went: "Like three birdies in a nest, three friends are the very best! Like three berries on a vine, three friends make it more than fine! One, two three - is how we're meant to be!"

Laughing, Sofia ran the rest of the way home, eager to help her mother get them both ready for the Ball.

The Villager's Ball was in full swing by the time Miranda and Sofia got there. You had to take a flying coach to get from Dunwiddie Village to the castle, and so many people were in attendance, many guests had been stuck in queue waiting for a chariot. But Sofia didn't mind. Right away, she spotted Ruby and Jade, over by the punch bowl, and ran off to play with them. Miranda watched her go, a wistful smile on her face. Ruby and Jade had been dear friends to her little girl, but sometimes she wished Sofia had at least a brother or sister to play with.

"Hello. I've never seen you at the Villager's Ball before. Having a nice time?"

Miranda spun around and nearly fainted. For she was being addressed by none other than King Roland himself. She gave an awkward curtsy, and hoped she did not look too out of practice. "Yes, Your Majesty. Forgive me, but this is my first time to the Villager's Ball. I'm the Seamstress in Dunwiddie, you see, and my daughter and I..."

"Your daughter?" Roland smiled kindly, and Miranda silently scolded herself for blushing. She rather liked his smile. It made him look very handsome. Before, Miranda could point her out, she was saved by none other than Sofia herself, racing over from the punch bowl.

"Mama, Mama! There's a fiddler playing out on the balcony! Can Ruby and Jade and I go and watch?"

"Yes, you may, Sofia, but manners first. This is the King."

Sofia's eyes went wide when she realized she was in the presence of King Roland. She gave an adorable curtsy. " Sofia of Dunwiddie, sire. It is an honor to meet you, your Majesty."

Roland beamed, already quite taken with the little girl. "Charmed, I'm sure, Sofia. Your mother has taught you well. Do report to me how that fiddler's performance is, eh?"

Sofia smiled. "Yes, sir!" And she skipped away.

"What an enchanting child," Roland marveled, watching Sofia exit onto the balcony. "And I can certainly see the resemblance." He turned his attention back to Miranda, just as fascinated by her, one of the most beautiful women he had ever seen. "Tell me: who was her father?"

Miranda looked askance at Roland, suddenly nervous. The question of Sofia's father had rarely come up in conversation in the village of Dunwiddie. Only a few people, close friends, knew the secret. Nevertheless, Miranda decided to be brave and honest, and tell the King the truth. Despite how simple it sounded. Despite how impossible it seemed.

"There was no father." She paced gently as she tried to find the words to describe it. "I carried her... I gave birth... I raised her... I can't explain what happened."

Roland's brow furrowed, now even more deeply intrigued. Miranda might not have an explanation for what would amount to a virgin birth, but Roland did: magic. Most of Enchancia's knowledge of magic had been confined to the palace, and to Roland. His court sorcerer, Cedric, contained all of the nation's secrets regarding witchcraft, both benevolent... and not. Roland would not have expected Miranda to know or understand such complicated forces of the supernatural. But how such magic resulted in Sofia's - a peasant girl's - conception, Roland could not guess. He decided to change the subject.

"You are a Seamstress, you said?"

Miranda smiled. "I made most of the dresses here tonight, though it pains me to say so. Humility..."

"... is a virtue," Roland finished for her, captivated. "Just so." Smiling, he took Miranda's hand and kissed it. "It has been a privilege to speak with you tonight. Good evening to you...

"Miranda," Miranda supplied for him. And she watched, awestruck, as the King glided away.