Disclaimer I do not own any characters, places, or events that have been used to my artistic endeavors from the novel, Ella Enchanted. I am simply having fun with some characters I consider my old friends.

Though regarded highly and looked upon with jealousy and adoration alike, I found few to be fools for I rather liked the humanity in which I struggled to find my way. As a child I knew no one, other than my beloved siblings, with whom I could share anything and everything that happened to cross my mind. Most other children treated me with the utmost courtesy; I was known as nothing other than "Your Highness" or "Sire" or "Prince Charmont" if the speaker was feeling particularly daring. But real pleasure I saved for the dull and tedious hours I spent with my siblings, who kept me grounded and always amused.

My home was lavish, to say the least. Light flooded every inch of floor and wall and occupant. The towering ceilings, white and menacing, complemented the white walls that were covered from top to bottom with tapestries of ancient fights and battles; though just as many love stories hung as the war ones. Beautiful damsels and dashing princes, brave horsemen and poor farm maids, I seemed to learn my chivalrous nature from the countless hours I spent studying these "books" that remained under constant scrutiny by each of the hall's occupant, namely me, however there were plenty of times I found myself explaining the meaning behind the pictures to visiting royalty or heads of state.

All the other rooms were typical: beautiful, grand, and expensive. I rarely took time to notice the surroundings in which I lived, except, of course, the tapestries that taught me so well and a feature of the house I found the most enchanting.

I was not allowed on the banister until I was ten years of age. My parents found the height and sleekness of the wood threatening to my health. All I saw was pure freedom. My nanny was instructed to hold my hand every time we approached the staircase; a maid was later made to sit and guard the banister from my use during the hours I was roaming the house freely, or else every moment I was conscious.

By the time I was eight, my inhibition to obey my parents gave way, and I would awake sharply at midnight each night to take a ride my elders so adamantly kept from me. By the time I was ten, the banister still proved enjoyment (as it does to this day) however my parents were surprised to find me little enthused by my birthday gift down the stairwell.

Otherwise, I found little enjoyment inside the grand place where I claimed residency. The gardens were spectacular, especially the menagerie that housed birds and creatures of every land and species. I was a regular to say the least.

But who made my home most special were my afore-mentioned siblings; to them, I owe so much. My entire childhood would have driven me mad had it not been for our antics in the knolls and fields or our common hours spent locked in lessons on etiquette and the like.

Apologies, I have forgotten my manners. I must seem like an insensitive, naïve, and unappreciative little boy. My childhood was not at all bad; my entire life was blessed! By no means was my youth plagued with poverty or carelessness or despair. On the contrary, I lived my life with utter happiness, in each moment for that moment's worth, never looking to gain something other than an occasional lesson or satisfaction for a moment well spent.

For as long as my memory could carry me, I knew for certainty two things only: family is worth more than gold, and someday I would be the ruler of the fine land of Frell. The former gave me much hope, while the latter often left me in a haze of sweat and fear to which nothing could cause me confidence.

Except one thing. One person I loved at first sight, one adventure after another, one centaur, one apple, one of everything I knew became as if new to me. She was why I came to do everything, to breathe in and out, to live with the utmost care. I saw her in every story, in every piece of God made tree and bush and flower, in everything the world put before me. Most importantly, I saw her in my future forever. I knew this about her after the first time I laid my eyes on her sad figure resting in the grass, hopeless and seemingly friendless, distraught betwixt the leaves of a certain weeping willow where this story is first set. She is the sole reason I write so vehemently right now. She is the reason behind everything I do. Her story and my story are one in the same, save a few minor details. What must inevitably change, however, are our voices. This is my voice, our story. The place is a graveyard. The time, when I first began to live.

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- This chapter was kind of short, and I'm sorry for that. This is my first time writing. Could you tell me what you think?! Be honest!