You were thankful that your dress was short, just a plain yellow, and that you were in simple white tennis shoes, because the castle still seemed hours away from its looming point in the sky. The turrets and towers were lit up in rainbow colors.

It was the night of the ball, and your true love, Prince Derek, was dancing with a doppelgänger version of you. And if he made a vow of love to the wrong woman, you would die.

You didn’t want to admit it, but you knew: he was stupid, and it wouldn’t be long before he made the wrong vow. You were jealous of the fake at the ball: she got to dance with a big and charming prince, your prince, while you helplessly ran through Chamberg.

You were still so far away.