"Come on Emma," Pinocchio called. "Your mother is Snow White. You should be able to hit that." He pointed at a target about 200 yards away.

"My mom might be Snow White, but my archery skills match my father's," Emma said. "Give me a sword, then we'll talk."

"Oh no," Pinocchio said. "I'm not falling for that one again. You kicked my butt with a sword last week."

"Maybe you should stick to wood carving," Emma goaded as she drew back the bow and took aim at the target. She did exactly as Snow had taught her. Focus on the arrow's destination, inhale, exhale, then release. She watched the arrow fly through the air and land just to the left of the bull's eye.

"Gah!" Emma exclaimed, stomping her foot into the ground.

"Maybe you should stick to sword fighting," Pinocchio laughed.

"Don't make me shoot you, Woody," Emma replied.

"Do it!" Pinocchio joked. "I mean, if you can hit a moving target." He made a run for his horse and jumped on its back. "Ya!" he called as the golden mare took off across the field.

Emma ran toward her white stallion. She hopped on his back and chased after her formerly wooden best friend. She knew her stallion's speed was no match for Pinocchio's mare. When she caught up to him, she took her feet from the stirrups and jumped onto the back of the mare. Pinocchio pulled the reigns, slowing his horse.

"Are you crazy?" he asked breathlessly. "You could have gotten seriously injured." He pulled the horse to a stop.

Emma jumped off the back of the mare and shrugged. "I'm not hurt, though. I survived."

Pinocchio shook his head. "I don't understand you."

"I don't expect you to," Emma said before whistling for her horse.

"We should be heading back," Pinocchio said, looking toward the sun to get a feel for the time. "Your mother wants you back to put the finishing touches on your party tomorrow."

Emma scoffed before climbing onto her horse. "I don't know why we have to do this. Every year it's the same thing. Every year they invite people from all over. Every year the boys try to woo me into marrying them. Every year I complain about the dresses. And every year, up until three years ago, Alexandra and I would go out and wish on stars, hoping our true loves would show up. Her prince showed up, but mine- he's nowhere to be found."

"He'll come, Emma," Pinocchio said. "For all you know, he's already here just waiting for the right moment."

She glanced at him out of the corner of her eye. "Don't tell me you're planning on proposing."

Pinocchio laughed. "Gross. No."

"Good," Emma said. "'Cause I wouldn't marry you."

Pinocchio pretended to be hurt. "You don't love me?"

"Yeah, I love you," Emma said. "But like a brother, not my true love."

"I understand," Pinocchio said.

"But you're older than I am," Emma said. "Shouldn't you have more concern with finding your true love?"

"I'm made of wood," Pinocchio said. "I'm only flesh and blood because of magic. If that's my trade for true love, I'll take it. I like the way I am now."

"I like the way you are too," she said.

"You're so sweet," Pinocchio said. "I'll race you back to the castle."

"I feel like I should give you a head start," Emma said almost sounding serious.

"Awful cocky aren't we princess?" he returned.

Emma shrugged. "I just know I can win."

"Sure you will," Pinocchio said before bringing the mare into a full gallop across the field toward the castle.

Emma followed suit. Again, she knew she could catch him. She wanted to give him a false sense of security though, so she held back a little bit. It was only when they were coming up to the castle bridge that she and her steed kicked into high gear. There was almost nowhere else Emma felt complete than on the back of a horse. The way she and the animal meshed as if they were one was perfection in her mind. Her legs and arms tensed and release right along with her steed. The trust and loyalty that she and her horse had built over the years was part of what made him so amazing. He would do anything Emma asked because he trusted that she would protect him and care for him.

As they approached the castle, the guards opened the gate. A guard on the wall blew a horn signaling her arrival back at the castle. Emma hated that horn more than anything. But she figured out the guards weak spot and if she ever wanted to come and go without her parents knowing, she just had to bring them some deserts from the kitchen cooks.

By the time she and Pinocchio reached the stables, her mother was out waiting for her. Over the years, Snow White's jet black hair had grayed and her face began to show signs of age, but she was still as beautiful as the freshly fallen snow.

"Emma!" Snow exclaimed. "Where have you been all day?"

"Target practice," Emma said, trying to catch her breath.

"We were supposed to spend the day finalizing the details of your party tomorrow," Snow said.

Emma huffed. "I don't care about a party or anything. Tomorrow is just another day."

"Tomorrow is not just another day," Snow said. "It's your birthday. I swear, you are as bad as your father."

Emma kissed the nose of her stallion and petted his cheek. "Pinocchio's going to take care of you. I have royal duties. But I promise I will come down before the end of the day." She turned to her mother, "let's get this over with."

Emma followed her mother into the castle. Side by side they walked through the castle that Emma had spent her life in. It had been years since she had stopped to actually look at the paintings on the walls. They were just part of the scenery.

Snow lead Emma into a large room where a couple of seamstresses waited.

"Mother, really?" Emma said when she saw the dress that waited for her. "I thought we agreed, nothing extravagant."

"Change of plans," Snow said. "We received word that Prince Zavier is coming."

"So," Emma said in an almost childish manner. "What's a prince got to do with how I dress?"

"Suitors, Emma," Snow said. "He could be your true love."

"Well, if he's my true love it shouldn't matter if I wear a huge ball gown or muddy riding boots," Emma countered. "You hit father with a rock after stealing his royal jewels."

"You can't keep idealizing the situation your father and I were in," Snow said. "There were a lot of other things going on in our lives at the time. Just be glad you don't have to live like I did." She lead Emma closer to the dress. "At least humor me."

Emma sighed. Snow knew just how to get to her. "Fine. I'll put it on, But I can't guarantee I'll wear it. "

By the day of Emma's party, Snow had talked Emma into wearing the dress. She was not completely thrilled, but if it put a smile on her mother's face she'd do it.

"You look beautiful," Charming said as he entered Emma's bedroom.

Emma turned away from the mirror. She had been trying to suppress some of the poof of the dress. "Why does she make me wear these things?" she pouted. "Just because she does?"

"She didn't always wear dresses," Charming said. "When she was your age, se was fighting in a war against King George and the Evil Queen. So, just humor her. She wants to give you everything she didn't have."

"But I don't want that," Emma said. "I don't like the dresses or the girl things. Let me ride horses and swordfight. Are you sure I can't quit this princess thing and become a knight?"

Charming hugged his daughter. "You will always be my White Knight. And I'll make you a deal, if you make it through your birthday party in this dress, you and I will take a few days and just wander the countryside."

"Do you think mother will let us?" Emma asked.

"I'm the king," he said. "I have to go check on my people. Ruling two kingdoms in one is hard."

"Exactly why I don't want the job," Emma said.

"Sorry kid, it's yours," Charming said. He held out his arm to his daughter. "Let's get the birthday girl to her party."

Emma rolled her eyes before hooking her arm around her father's. Father and daughter left the room and headed down to the ball room to Emma's 28th birthday party.

At the party, Emma did everything she was taught to do when people from every kingdom in the land were around. She mingled and danced. She even broke down and spent time with Prince Zavier to please her parents. As the night wore on, she got more and more anxious. She just wanted the night to be over so she could get on with her life.

"At least pretend to be enjoying yourself," Alexandra said coming up behind Emma. Alexandra- the daughter of Cinderella and King Thomas- was one of the oldest friends that Emma had. They had been friends since they were infants because of their mothers. But once Thomas and Cinderella became king and queen, they saw a lot less of each other. But their bond never seemed to weaken.

"You know I hate parties," Emma replied with a roll of her eyes. "Yet my parents always seem to make me have one."

Alexandra took Emma by the hand. "Come on." She pulled Emma into the garden, with Emma protesting most of the way.

"What are we doing out here?" Emma asked.

"Just because I got married does not mean we should break tradition," Alexandra said.

"We haven't done this in three years, Emma pointed out.

"I know and I miss it," Alexandra replied.

"We used to wish for true love," Emma said. "What are you going to wish for now?"

"I have plenty to wish for," Alexandra answered. "You should keep wishing for true love, though."

"I think this wishing on stars thing is a childish fantasy, Emma said. "We have been wishing on stars since my seventh birthday and what do I have to show for it? A 28th birthday party where I have to dance with a prince who is more girly than I am. Where is the true love I've been wishing for since I was a kid?"

"You just have to believe, Emma," Alexandra said. "He will come. And he will come right when he's meant to."

"I'm just tired of waiting," Emma replied. "I'm tired of my parents trying to set me up with different men and questioning me about whether or not I felt anything for them."

Alexandra rolled her eyes. "We'll make one last wish and if it doesn't come true, you won't have to make anymore wishes, not even at my birthday party."

"Fine," Emma said. "One last time."

Emma and Alexandra sat down on the edge of the fountain in the center of the garden. They both looked up at the stars. As they had for twenty-one years, they took each other's hand, looked up to the stars. Once they picked out a star in the sky, they closed their eyes and silently made their wish. Emma's wish was more of a threatening bargain.

Alright, who ever my fairy god mother is, you're supposed to be granting my wishes. I live in a place where magic is everywhere, yet you are kind of making me doubt that my fairy god mother exists. So if you exist, you had better grant my wish or I'm done. My one last wish is for my true love to find me. Where ever they are just let them come, Emma thought.