"No matter how much we want it, fate is not under our control, like a song that plays only according to its own notes..."

And why all this? Even Lord Farquaad's plans went down the drain, and it all happened because of that damn ogre, who stole Princess Fiona for himself. Lord Farquaad's plan failed, leaving him with a bruised ego.

How did it happen that the princess chose the ogre instead of Farquaad himself? He didn't understand it. How could anyone refuse him, the most handsome and richest groom in the area? Victory was so close, since his mother's legacy should have passed to him, allowing him to become king without any problems, if he had managed to marry the princess... But as always, fate decided to play a cruel joke on him, ruining everything again!

"I want to be king! It's destined!" Lord Farquaad fumed in front of the magic mirror, stamping his feet like a capricious child. "Find me a new princess, and quickly!" he ordered in an impatient tone, grabbing with his hands the magic mirror by its precious frame.