Fate is a funny thing.

You can't really avoid it, and you can't run from it.

It can be good, or it can be evil. But overall, it's inescapable.

Many Princes grew up with the ideology of marrying the beautiful princess, maybe after releasing her from a curse or slaying a dragon. That was their fate, their destiny.

Prince Kid Death, had no such intentions, much to the chagrin of his father.

Kid Death unleashed a sigh as he shut the door to his father's study behind him. He didn't want to think about why his father had summoned him for another 'chat'. Every talk they had had in the last year seemed to begin and end the same way.

With his father trying to marry him off.

His father was so desperate that just about anyone would do.

"Hello Kiddo, good to see you! Come in, come in!" the king waved his son over cheerfully, gesturing for him to enter. Kid obliged and crossed the study, standing next to the cherry wood bookcase that covered the wall next to the window.

The dark haired youth leaned against the wall and crossed his arms. "Look, father, let's just cut to the chase. Who is it this time?" he said brusquely.

The King smirked at his son's attitude and leaned back on his desk, folding his arms identically to his son.

It had to admitted, both men were devilishly handsome with the charcoal black hair with three curious white lines, their strong jaws, and molten gold eyes. But it was their smirk that really affected the female population, containing an air of mystery and just a hint of arrogance, while still allowing for a completely sincere smile on occasion.

"Son, I just want you to be happy," he said warily.

"What makes you think I'm not happy?"

The King raised his eyebrow and sent his son a withering look. "Kid, you're twenty one and you've had almost no interaction with women."

"That's not true," Kid said defensively, straightening his posturing and putting his arms to his sides.

"The Thompson ladies don't count, they're your cousins."

The prince swore under his breath. Lady Elizabeth and Lady Patricia were, in fact, his cousins. They were his closest friends, but they were incredibly overbearing and both wilful girls that had most of the men at court at a complete loss for words when it came to the beautiful sisters.

"What about that princess from Eastfalin? She was a pretty girl," the King asked.

Kid screwed his face up in disgust. "While Princess Kimberly is very lovely, she was a bit . . . how shall I put this? Shallow."

The King nodded sagely, understanding completely what the boy meant. "You'll have to pick one eventually, you have an entire kingdom to think about," the older man advised.

The prince didn't look at his father, instead choosing to stare intently at the neatly organized bookshelf in front of him.

The King crossed the study until he stood next to his son, facing the window. "If your mother were alive, she'd be far more equipped to handle this kind of thing. She always understood you better than I did," he said mournfully.

The thought of his beloved wife and queen always left a tender smile on the usually harsh lines of the King's face that came from years of worry. She died of influenza just a few years prior, leaving the King to rear their children alone.

Kid put a hand on his father's shoulder comfortingly. "Father, I miss her too," he said softly.

Father and son shared a moment of silence as they thought about the wonderful and loving woman who had made them better, who had brought life to their lives, figuratively and literally.

"I just want you to find someone that makes you as happy as she made me," the older man said after a thoughtful pause. "I don't want you to miss out on love, Kiddo."

"I know that, father, but I can't see myself loving any of the girls I've met the way you loved Mom."

Kid's father seemed to contemplate what his son had said for a moment. It was true that he had intended for his oldest son to marry a princess so as to secure an alliance with another kingdom as well as bring money and trade to the kingdom, but there were only so many princesses. All the girls he introduced to his son seemed to like the prince, but that wasn't the problem.

While the prince was a perfect gentleman to every girl that entered the palace, he did not love a single one of them.

"What if I make you a deal?" the King asked suddenly.

Kid stared at his father with a look of apprehension. "What kind of deal?" he asked slowly.

"If you can find a girl, any girl, in the next month, that you think you could love, I'll be off your case forever and you're free to do as you wish. But if you don't," he warned, "I choose the girl you marry." The king offered his hand to his son expectantly. "Have we got a deal?"

The prince stared at his father's outstretched hand, a grin slowly spreading over his face. "Deal!" Kid said as they shook hands vigorously.

00000000

Maka was the only child of Lord and Lady Albarn. They loved their daughter very much and she grew every day with their love, learning grace, compassion, and kindness.

Unfortunately, when she was only eight years old, tragedy struck.

Lady Kami Albarn was dead.

Father and daughter clung together at the funeral, trying to draw strength in the situation.

Maka became her father's entire world. He lived for his daughter.

But it became apparent that little girls need more wisdom than most fathers can offer.

And so, he set out to remarry. Spirit hoped to find someone warm and loving, and perhaps someone with daughters as well so Maka could be raised alongside friends.

Now the plan was in motion, and six months later he married the Lady Tremaine. Lady Mabaa Tremaine was a woman of ethereal beauty and seemed a compassionate and intelligent soul. She also had two daughters; Arachne and Medusa. Both girls were around the same age as Maka.

Now Spirit Albarn was a man who loved to travel. He and his first wife frequently took their daughter on trips to faraway lands, but now he felt compelled to travel on his own. Lord Spirit had heard of a rare set of ancient weaponry discovered in a land just East of his own estate and decided to check it out. Before he left, he kissed Maka goodbye, wiping the tears from her face.

"I'll be back soon, princess," he promised.

Maka turned away sharply, a pout on her small face. Eventually her face fell and smile graced her delicate features. "I know, Papa. I love you."

"I love you too," Spirit said with a pat on her head.

And with that farewell, he left. He waved to his new wife and stepdaughters from the gate and disappeared over the horizon line.

He never returned.

00000000

It wasn't a sudden transition; it didn't happen overnight.

The first day it was the voice of Maka's new stepmother, "Maka," she purred from her chaise lounge, "would you be a dear and go get my tea for me?"

"Of course Stepmother," the girl replied cheerfully, returning a moment later with the tea set in hand. She didn't mind getting the tea instead of having one of the parlor maids do it. After all, weren't daughters meant to serve and love their mothers, even if the word step was placed in front of it?

A week later it came from the shrill cry of her sister, Medusa.

The girl had been trying to unknot the stringy hair that framed her face for hours, but to no avail. "Maka!" she called out.

Maka turned her head to the sound of her stepsister, putting down the book she had been reading and crossing to the vanity. "Yes, Medusa?" she asked with a bright smile, eyeing the other girls knots with sympathy.

Medusa thrust her silver hairbrush into the hands of her sister. "Fix my hair, you weren't doing anything important anyway."

Maka began to brush the gnarls and knots from her hair patiently and sweetly and obediently. "I'm happy to help stepsister." Maka noted the state of her sister's hair. "Perhaps you should consider being more patient with tresses when you brush them out, it might help," she suggested.

"Oh what do you know! Your parents are dead!"

The younger girl reared back in shock as her eyes brimmed with tears. No, not like this, she willed herself. She didn't mean it like that. Don't you dare cry, Maka Albarn, you're made of stronger stuff. You have to be good and you have to be kind because that's what mother taught you to be. Be brave.

Maka sniffled and pasted a smile on her face as she set the brush down. "I finished your hair Medusa, I'm going to return to my book now," she said before she quickly walked back to her novel, taking it with her to the peace and quiet of her bedroom.

Three years later she was sleeping at the foot of the hearth in the kitchens at night, her silky blonde hair covered in ash from the dying fire. She would curl up her lithe body against the warm stones, resting her head on an old quilt, rising with the sun each morning alongside the skeleton staff that remained.

The bevy of maids and cooks that had been employed in the days of her mother were gone, and now there remained one cook, three maids, a gardener, a stableman, and the butler who threatened to quit each and every day if it wasn't for the little mistress that remained behind, with eyes the same shade as her mother's.

The servants all loathed Lady Mabaa and her wretched daughters, but they held their tongues for the sake of the daughter of their late mistress.

The years passed and Maka grew in determination. She worked hard every day, cleaning and sewing, reading late into the night, and never complaining.

When she was seventeen years old, a letter arrived at their manor, addressed To The Ladies of the Household.

Arachne sauntered over to the footman that held out the letter on a silver platter, thanking him with her usual sultry grin. She handed the letter to her mother lazily, Mabaa's eyes widening as she read it.

"Girls!" she called, gesturing for Arachne and Medusa to surround her, "This may be our chance!"

"What it is mother?" Medusa asked, putting her fork down on her plate.

Maka crossed the room to clear away the plates from breakfast. She moved slowly, hoping to overhear the conversation between her stepmother and stepsisters if she was lucky.

This time, she was lucky.

"Prince Kid is throwing a ball, and all eligible ladies in the Kingdom are invited to attend," Mabaa said with a dark look. "Don't you think this is the chance we've been waiting for?" she asked, turning her head from one daughter to the other.

Medusa smiled gleefully while Arachne smirked. "Do you want me to ensnare the young prince, mother?" Arachne asked innocently, placing a hand on her mother's.

Mabaa nodded, a mischievous grin on her usually solemn features. She leaned back casually against her chair, resting her hand on the prim bun on the back of her head. "I believe it's time we went shopping my darlings," the older woman said with a smile.

"Excuse me?"

All heads in the room turned towards the slim blonde girl, holding a tray precariously in her hands.

"What?" Mabaa snapped, hearing the voice of her pretty little stepdaughter.

Maka grit her teeth and threw her shoulders back, standing up straight. "I would like to go to the ball as well." The words were out of her mouth before she could stop them, but she didn't break eye contact with her stepmother. "It says every eligible lady and -"

"Absolutely."

"What?"

To say that Maka was shocked at her stepmother's acceptance was an understatement. Furthermore, her daughters looked at their mother in confusion and disapproval. "You can't be serious," they complained but Mabaa held up a hand.

Mabaa stood up from her chair gracefully, taking the few steps between her and her stepdaughter, practically gliding on the floor. "You can go. But only," and she held up a finger to let her know she would allow no argument, "if you can find something suitable to wear. I won't have you embarrassing us at this event."

Maka smiled and her cheeks flushed with excitement. "Really?"

"Really. But you mustn't neglect your chores either," Mabaa warned.

"I won't, don't you worry!" Maka said as she bowed quickly, sprinting across the dining room, headed towards the stairs that led to her attic bedroom.

"You're not really going to let her go, are you?" Arachne asked Mabaa with a sneer as soon as Maka was out of earshot.

Mabaa shook her head, a grin on her face. "Of course not. But it'll be so much more fun to crush her spirit later, don't you think?"

Meanwhile, up in her attic room, Maka was frantically ripping through the old trunk that held her mother's clothes. She began tossing around fabric, throwing it aside until she pulled out a wrapped bundle from the bottom of the chest.

She clutched it tightly to her a front, a smile on her thin face as she breathed a sigh of relief.

Kami's old wedding dress, while a old and in need of re sizing, was beautiful and timeless. Once Maka aired out the fabric and hemmed it, it would be perfect after a few alterations.

The blonde hummed as she hung up the dress and began to search through the trunk again. She pulled out a pair of pearl encrusted satin slippers that her mother had worn with the dress, and while they were slightly larger than Maka's own feet, she knew they would do for the ball.

Pulling a needle and threat from her pocket, Maka set to work.

00000000

"Kid! Get your ass moving, do you want to be late for your own ball?" Lady Elizabeth Thompson hollered from outside the prince's quarters. It was only a half an hour until the ball was set to start and Kid still had things to do before the event could really come under way. Elizabeth pounded on the door again for good measure before it swung open to the unamused face of her cousin.

The dark haired youth glared at his cousin. "I'm perfectly capable of arriving on time, Elizabeth. You needn't escort me," he blanched.

The prince did not add that he had been on edge all week. This was the last night of the month his father had given him to find love, and so far he had found nothing. He was desperate because he knew time was running out.

Elizabeth tossed her blonde curl behind her head with a flick of her wrist. "Then let's get moving, they can't wait around forever princess," she teased.

Kid's face relaxed and he stuck out his arm for his cousin to take, which she did gingerly.

Patricia caught up with them as they headed towards the grand ballroom, linking her arm through Kid's free one.

The sister's mirrored each other in dresses of red silk with deep v-necklines and full skirts. They wore their hair in loose curls pinned back with ruby studded gold pins, allowing it to be out of the way and still seen. Patricia giggled as she noticed the scurrying servants, gesturing to them with her hands, making Elizabeth and Kid smile.

They weren't the most conventional family by any means, but they all loved each other deeply, and that was all that really mattered.

00000000

"I'm ready!" Maka shouted joyfully as she raced down the spiral stairs.

She had had only moments to get herself ready after Arachne and Medusa had insisted on their step-sister's help the entire time they got ready, but the younger girl was proud of her handiwork.

Her mother's dress was beautiful and it floated around her whenever she walked. She had sewn a ribbon of gold that had come from one of Arachne's discarded dresses around the waist line to add some color, adding a matching netting of gold to her hair that Medusa had tossed out the previous weekend.

Maka twirled giddily at the base of the staircase, clutching her hands to her skirts. This was the moment she had dreamed off, had worked for. Her mother had always said that kindness and hard work were the keys to success, and she had been right. It had been hard work, but it was worth it.

Mabaa sent her daughters an unamused look and stalked around her giddy step-daughter. She eyed her almost predatorily, raking over the beautiful dress on the girl's slender figure.

The older woman had on a rich ebony dress made of the softest velvet, the dark color providing a stark contrast to the pallor of her white skin.

The dress was certainly more attractive than Medusa and Arachne's dresses of matching violet silk. It was soft and ethereal, almost other-worldly on this insolent slip of a girl. Something like that couldn't be allowed to attend the ball and steal the attention of others.

"Medusa," Mabaa purred, "I didn't realize you'd given Maka your favorite hairnet for the party. How kind of you," she simpered. She then turned to Arachne. "And wasn't this ribbon on your red ball gown, Arachne? I didn't know you'd gotten rid of it."

Maka's eyes widened in horror. "No, these were discarded, they didn't want these," she justified, touching the hair piece gently.

There was a series of shrieks from Arachne and Medusa as they realized what their little step-sister had used to improve her wardrobe. Their cried of indignation echoed through the hall and they reached for the fabric tearing at it with all the strength they could muster. With a rough yank, Medusa pulled the golden accessory from Maka's head, while Maka tried desperately to hold it in place.

"You little bitch!" Arachne screeched, tearing the finely sewn ribbon from the dress.

Maka tried desperately to escape but Mabaa's arms held her fast in place.

Tears streamed down the sweet girl's face as her mother's dress was destroyed before her eyes. In minutes she was left with nothing but shreds of a tattered dress hanging limply from her frame.

She sank to her knees as the last ounce of faith was drained from her.

There was nothing left now. The last physical relic the girl had of her beloved mother was destroyed at the hands of the women who were supposed to be her family.

Now she had only her mother's wisdom, and it seemed that even those cherished words had died within the daughter's heart.

With an indignant huff, Mabaa and her daughters stepped over the mess they had made and left the house, clambering into their gilded carriage and driving away into the dark night.

And so Maka was left alone. She had nothing left.

With a gasp and a wail she stood up roughly and tore through the open doorway. She ran to the edge of the garden that had once been beloved of her mother, casting herself against the side of the fountain. The thin girl pushed out heaving sobs against the stone side of the fountain, the rushing water doing little to hide the sound of her cries.

Be good. Be Kind. Work Hard. Never give up.

Her mother's words tormented her. She had trusted them and they let her down.

You are nothing. You are nothing. You are nothing.

The words beat within her head, echoing with every heartbeat and breath.

It was true. She was nothing. Both her parents had deserted her and now it was clear that even her stepmother and stepsisters hated her. There would never be any love for this lonely orphan.

Maka heard a sound behind her, but she did not stir, lost in the depths of her own despair.

There was another flash of light and a sizzle and the orphan child relented, turning towards the sound, sniffling at the sound.

"Oh dear one, what has happened?"

The emerald eyed girl's eyes widened at the sweet voice. Before her stood a stunning woman with jet black hair tied back in a high ponytail. Her body was curved generously under her powder blue cloak and her eyes were a vibrant sapphire blue. She smiled kindly at Maka and reached out to her, putting a hand on her shoulder.

"Oh sweetheart," she murmured, "I'm so sorry."

Maka smiled through the tears, the corners of her mouth just barely rising. After a moment she regained her composure, asking the dark haired girl the question that had been on her mind for awhile. "Who are you?"

The dark haired woman laughed softly, the sound like a tinkling of bells. "I'm Tsubaki, your fairy godmother!" she said with a dramatic flick of her wrist.

"Really? For how long?" If Maka had a fairy godmother, why was she just now meeting her?

Tsubaki's eyes softened and she heard the pain in the girl's voice. "Your whole life my dear one."

Maka felt her heart plummet. "Then why didn't you help me sooner?" she asked. It didn't make sense to her, if she was her fairy godmother, why hadn't she done anything to stop the tormenting of her step family?

"Maka," Tsubaki said sympathetically. "I couldn't save you from what happened. You had to grow, learn, and love. If I would've rescued you before you had experienced true hardship, you would be the same as Medusa and Arachne. Spoiled, selfish, and eternally unhappy."

"Thank you, Tsubaki," she mumbled. "So why are you here now?"

Tsubaki grinned at the orphan girl. "Because you're going to go to the ball!" she said excitedly, pulling a wand out of thin air.

"First order of business," the fairy said with a wide grin, "Is your transportation. Do you have a pumpkin?"

Twenty minutes later Maka was stuffed into a glamorous white carriage, made from a pumpkin. Tsubaki had put her in a beautiful dress with matching glass slippers. The coach was speeding down the lane, driven by one of Tsubaki's servants who went by the name of BlackStar.

Maka couldn't believe it. Half an hour earlier she had given up, surrendering everything she held dear. And now, she was going to have one magical (literally magical) evening.

It was a night for destiny.

00000000

There was a reason pumpkins weren't usually used as carriages, and Maka was beginning to understand why.

Mostly, it was disorienting being trapped inside a giant gourd that used to hold strings of strong smelling seeds.

However, it could be said that pumpkin carriages moved alarmingly fast and before Maka knew what was happening, she had arrived at the front entrance to the palace. She rode past perfect silver gates and up a walkway that was beautiful and unique, the moonlight shining down on it and casting a dim glow through the trees. She could see light coming from the windows within the castle and Maka couldn't help but smile as she gathered her skirts and walked up the steps to the doors.

The party had already begun when the guards ushered her forward to the top of the steps and Maka had to pause to take in the view below her.

00000000

Literal perfection. That's what she was, Kid decided. Perfectly even, her right and left side perfect mirror images of each other.

A strangled noise came from his throat and Kid found his eyes wandering towards the top of the landing where she was time and time again.

She stood quietly, the symmetrical girl, hands clasped neatly in front of her. Her hair was pinned evenly in the back with a curl framing her face on either side. Her dress was simple but it accentuated her features and Kid couldn't help but smile when he looked at her.

She was beautiful.

Ignoring the glances sent in his direction, Kid made his way to the bottom of the staircase, ready to receive the newest guest. The music was about to start and the prince had every intention of opening the ball with the beautiful girl. Unlike the other girls he had met, she had made no effort to try and win him over, something he greatly appreciated.

Kid coughed and cleared his throat, alerting the girl to his presence and she began her descent. She had picked up her skirts in her right hand as was carefully stepping down when she heard him. She looked up and noticed him, and then all the glares that came from various girls around the ballroom.

The blonde girl sent a shy smile to the Prince before putting her head back down as she resumed her trek down the steps.

When she reached the bottom, Kid held out a white-gloved hand for her. "Good evening. My name is Prince Kid, and it is a pleasure to meet you. Would you do me the honor of dancing with me?" he asked politely.

Kid felt a fluttering in his chest and a quickening of his breath. It was like something out of a fairy tale. All that mattered was this moment and the smile she was giving him as she placed a hand in his and took a step closer. The Prince led her to the center of the floor before bowing formally to her, which she responded to with a curtsy. When they had both straightened, Kid found himself putting a hand on the small of her back as she put her hand in his grasp.

As the music began to play, Kid found himself at a loss for words.

He was a prince. He always had a remark, and yet now he felt silenced by this girl who had yet to introduce herself to him formally. It was as though it was not the meeting of two bodies, but of two souls.

She fit so perfectly against him, like her bones were made to fold against his in this age-old dance.

"Normally, people introduce themselves before they start dancing with a stranger," Kid teased the girl as the music began and they took the first steps of the waltz.

The girl blushed deeply, and evenly, as she took in the room around her.

"It's not really important what my name is. I'm just happy to be here," she answered as the moved from the center of the ballroom and closer to the edge.

Kid nodded in agreement. "And while that is wonderful, I should like to have something to call you."

The girl looked thoughtful for a moment, and Kid decided that he could get lost in those eyes forever without complaint.

"It's Maka," she answered, a smile on her lips.

"Maka," Kid said in response. "A beautiful name."

"Thank you," she said with a laugh. "My parents thought so too."

After that exchange, talking was easier. Suddenly, they were through the ballroom and out in the gardens.

Where most people found exchange with the young prince to be difficult, Maka found it to be extremely easy. They were kindred spirits.

No longer dancing, as the music was too faint, they settled for keeping their hands clasped together tightly in each other's grip. Somehow, after the dance had ended, neither had found the desire to let go.

Their souls hummed in accordance, a type of very old magic that made itself known only when in the presence of soulmates. Most people went their entire lives without experience this tingling sensation.

But Princes were usually more lucky than most people.

Though they had met only moments before, neither could deny the instant attraction and understanding. These were not two separate beings, but two halves of the same soul, lost to each other until now.

These were the kind of souls that would always manage to find each other, no matter the lifetime they lived.

00000000

The next morning, Maka rubbed the sleep from her eyes as the sun touched over the horizon.

As she dragged her mind out of the depths of exhaustion, the rest of the night came flashing back to her.

She had met the Prince, and danced with him the entire night. Well, they had spent the entire night together, though most of it was not spent dancing.

And then, as the clock struck midnight, she raced out of the palace, leaving behind one of her glass slippers. Maka dove into the carriage, which sped off into the night, eluding the guards until it dropped her off at her home and promptly turned back into a pumpkin.

Even with all the excitement, Maka's mind kept swimming back to the dance. The time she had spent with Kid had been perfect.

His molten gold eyes had stared into hers kindly, with a look of deep respect and admiration.

She had told him about her parents, something she never told anyone about because it was too painful. And yet, telling him had actually lifted her spirits and made her feel free.

Meanwhile, her soul wasn't the only one that was free of burden now. While she had talked of her mother, Kid had spoken of his as well. He had explained his fear of inadequacy, of not measuring up to his father, of failing the kingdom he loved.

Never once had she recoiled at his words, instead choosing to encourage him and commend him for his strength, and he did the same for her.

Her heart hammered in her chest when she thought of the look of appreciation he had given her at her acceptance of him.

She went through the rest of her day as though she was in a trance, her heart truly happy for the first time since the death of her father.

00000000

"Not finding her isn't an option, Patty," Kid warned sternly towards his younger cousin.

The younger girl's eyes widened as she pleaded with the prince. "Come on, Kiddo, she ran away! How are we supposed to find her?" she asked.

The family was sitting in the study of the King, curtains drawn to bring some light into the room. Elizabeth and Patricia had been roused from their beds early in the morning following the ball, much to their dismay and annoyance. Their hair was in disarray, matching the somewhat unkempt state of their cousin.

The young prince stood across from where his father was seated with an amused smirk on his face.

"So, Kiddo, I take it you think you've found the girl you love?" the king asked, folding his hands across his lap.

Kid, who had been pacing across from him, looked up at his father's statement. If the shadows lingering under his eyes were any indication, the prince had not slept at all the entire night.

"I know it sounds silly, Father, but there is no 'think' about this. I know she's the one," he answered honestly, running a hand through his hair.

From where Liz sat in her chair, he heard an annoyed groan come from her lips.

"Lady Elizabeth, do you have something to say?"

"Why yes, I do, your majesty," she said briskly as she stood up from her seat, running her hands over her dress. "What the hell, Kid? You just met her last night, how could you possibly be willing to marry this girl?" Liz demanded.

At the words of her sister, Patty tugged on Liz's red skirts. "Sis?"

Liz tried to wipe the sigh from her face. "What, Patty?"

At the annoyance in Liz's voice, Patty's eyes narrowed and she straightened in her seat. "Don't you believe in love?" the younger sister asked, her warm gaze sliding over to her cousin. "It can happen to anyone, at any time. So why couldn't it happen to Kid?"

Kid shot her a grateful look, a smile on his usually somber face. "Thank you, Patty."

The look she sent him back was filled with such love and devotion that he knew he would never forget how wonderful she was to him.

"Yes, thank you, Patricia," the king said mildly. "I have often thought the same thing myself."

Slowly, the older man stood from his seat, turning to face the windows and clasping his hands behind his back. "But this isn't about whether or not Kid's love is true. This is about how we're going to find the girl with almost no information as to who she is."

At the serious words of the king, Kid pulled an object from his tunic pocket, wrapped carefully in cloth. Crossing the room quickly, he handed the object to his father gently.

Gingerly, the king unwrapped the cloth, pulling a curious object from it's folds.

A glass slipper.

A smirk crossed the face of the prince as the object was revealed.

"With this."

00000000

"I know it was you."

Maka turned around quickly at the words of her stepmother, nearly knocking over the figurines she had been dusting along the mantle. "What was me, stepmother?" she asked sweetly.

Mabaa's eyes glinted from where she sat, teacup still in hand. The older woman looked cold and calculating as she eyed the young girl. The words she spoke were short and to the point.

"Why, with the prince, my dear girl."

All the color drained from Maka's face as she looked away, trying to hide her face. "I don't know what you mean, stepmother."

With a flash, Mabaa was standing next to Maka, her hand gripped tightly on her arm.

"Do you think me a fool?" she hissed at the girl, her face leering menacingly close.

Maka's emerald eyes met her calmly, but her whole body tightened like a coil, ready to spring at any moment.

This was it.

This was the moment when Maka was done being nice, done being kind, done taking orders from others.

"Why yes, stepmother, I do," she retorted boldly.

Mabaa reeled back in shock for a moment, before a sinister smile came over her slightly wrinkled face.

"Ah, so you're done being nice now, are you?"

When Maka didn't answer, she continued.

"Good, so am I," Mabaa snarled before yanking on the arm of the younger girl.

Maka struggled, but her attempts were in vain. Mabaa's grip was just too tight.

Her stepmother dragged her up the stairs, hissing and seething the entire way about the insolence of her stepdaughter. Mabaa through open the attack door and unceremoniously shoved her stepdaughter in the room.

The blonde girl fell to the floor, catching herself on her elbows. She tried to stand as quickly as she could, but before she could reach the door Mabaa had slammed it shut, locking it behind her.

Maka banged on the door, but to no avail. She was trapped.

For the second time that week, Maka let the tears flow down her face.

00000000

"Patty, come on! This is the last house for the day. Let's just finish and be done," Liz shouted at her younger sister, dragging her out of the carriage in the process.

The royal family, or the Prince and his two cousins, had been searching the nearby town all day, but so far no girl had fit the glass shoe.

Kid was beginning to lose hope of ever finding this girl.

As the three approached the front door of the home, passing the gated orchard, they were met by two young ladies. One had blonde hair, braided down the center, while the other had thick black hair that hung in waves around her face.

The dark-haired one spoke first. "Welcome to our home, your majesty. What can we do for you?" she asked. Her voice was heavy and sultry, and Kid was hit with a wave of disdain for the fakeness of her voice.

As she held the door wide open for them to pass through, Kid answered reluctantly, knowing that this couldn't be the house.

"Forgive me ladies, but I am looking for the owner of this shoes," he answered primly, pulling the glass slipper from his pocket and handing it to one his cousins. "It wouldn't happen to belong to either of you would it?"

When both girls insisted that it belonged to them, Patty had them sit down while Liz tried to put the shoe on them.

Some time while the younger sister, Medusa, was having her foot violently shoved into the glass slipper, their mother entered the room.

Mabaa insisted that the shoe belonged to Medusa, but her feet were swollen after a night of dancing.

As if they hadn't heard that a dozen times that day.

When it was made perfectly clear that the show wouldn't fit either girl, Kid made a move to leave the room.

"Pssstt, Kid, I have to pee. Real bad," Patty whimpered to her cousin.

"Lady Patricia, you are more than welcome to use our facilities," the lady Mabaa purred. "Why don't you take a seat while you wait for her, your majesty?"

At the invitation, Kid reluctantly decided to agree while Patty was whisked down the hall. Liz sat next to her cousin, sending smug looks to Arachne who was trying, in vain, to catch the eye of the prince.

"So, just to be clear, there is nobody else that lives here?" Kid asked during the uncomfortable silence that followed.

Arachne sent him a shy smile. "Of course not, your grace. It is just my mother, my sister, and myself."

Kid nodded, though the answer didn't thoroughly satisfy him.

He needed to find that girl.

"KID!"

At Patty's shout, Kid bolted from his seat, his hand going straight to the hilts strapped to either side of his body where he kept his swords. "Patty?" he shouted back, heading towards the hallway.

"Your majesty, I'm sure it's nothing-" Arachne tried to soothe.

"If you don't step aside, I will cut you down where you stand for keeping me from my cousin," he growled at her, Liz standing by his side.

Arachne shrank back at the look in his eyes, letting him pass through.

"KID! THERE'S ANOTHER GIRL HERE!" Patty shouted from down the hall when she saw him running towards her.

The prince crossed the distance easily, a menacing look in his eyes when he face Mabaa.

"How do you know this, Patty?" he asked calmly, trying to keep his tone even instead of sharing the anger her felt.

"I could hear someone pounding on the door up the stairs," she answered sweetly while Mabaa threw her dirty looks. "She kept saying "help me!""

"Is this true, Lady Mabaa?" Kid asked, his hand still on the hilt of his sword. "Did you lie to me?"

"Why, your grace, I would never," she gasped, though her face was flushed.

Kid nodded before turning to his cousins. "Liz, Patty, keep an eye on them. I'm going to check this out."

At his statement, he heard another thud come from the door. The prince bolted up the stairs, hope springing in each step he took.

"Your grace, it's just a servant-"

But Kid paid her no mind.

When he reached the door and found it was locked, he took a step back, bracing himself before kicking the door in.

And there she was.

There was dirt smeared on her face, tracks of tears making lines on her cheeks. Her hair was falling out of its pigtails and her dress was torn.

But she was there.

"Maka," he breathed, taking in the sight of her.

"Kid, I don't-" she started to say as she wiped the tears from her eyes, but he stopped her by pulling her into his arms, her body flush against his.

"I worried I wouldn't ever find you," he whispered.

Maka pulled back after a moment, biting the edge of her lip. "Kid, you don't owe me anything-" she started.

But he stopped her by kneeling down in front of her.

"Maka, I know we haven't known each other for very long," he began, causing her to chuckle. "But I can't imagine being happy with anyone else. Come back to the palace with me, marry me. Please say you will."

At those words, Maka felt tears slide down her face again, but these were for a different reason.

"Yes," she said. "Yes, I will!" Maka answered tearfully before launching herself into his arms.

And the rest, as you know, is history.

This story has been told a thousand times, but each time is special to those who experience it in the depths of their heart. And so, Maka went back to the palace with her true love. The King loved the girl immediately, and the Thompson sisters became her dearest friends.

Lady Mabaa and her daughters were exiled for their mistreatment of the girl, as well as for lying to the prince.

And they all lived Happily Ever After.

Except the witches, the stupid bitches.

A/N: Funny story, I've actually been writing this story for almost 4 months, I just never sat down and wrote more than a page at a time until today. Thank you so much for the reviews on the last story, as well as the follows and favorites. I hope you all can learn to love this story just as much, as well as let me know if you have any requests for the next fairy tale pairing!

-Wri