His, the king’s, and her’s, the queen’s, crowns sitting on their heads like trophies, as they watched you walk up shamefully to the guillotine with the executioner. Their son, Prince Adam, sat in the chair next to them.

You were about to be beheaded for wearing men’s clothes, just like Joan of Arc. Except you weren’t being burnt alive.

You put your head in the small hole in the guillotine, dread creeping on you as it sinks in: you’ll be dead in one minute.

The executioner gets ready to chop that pretty head of yours off, the crowd formed below cheering, when Prince Adam breaks the silence.

“Wait! Stop at once!” he shouts, standing up from his chair. The executioner stops and stares as the crowd falls silent, with audible gasps coming from the women of the crowd. Even you were shocked.

Little did you know, once Prince Adam laid his hazel eyes on you, he fell for you immediately. Obviously, he doesn’t want his crush getting their head chopped clean off.

“I demand that… that… that we do not execute this woman!” Prince Adam shouts through the silence.