Initially Clark had just wanted the money; you looked just like the young child of Metropolis's royal family who'd been taken from them all those years ago. Still, they'd never lost hope you'd come back to them.

Just a lowlife, greedy for wealth, he'd found you working in a tavern and offered to con the royal family, split the money with you once you'd fooled them.

But here he's standing before you, awestruck as he stares at you in the formal attire he'd bought you. Never a sight so beautiful — you're a royal through and through, there's not a doubt about it.

Every night at supper you tell him about your dreams; you're little, following a stranger into the moonlight. And how can he reveal to you that he was there the night you were taken from the palace, the son of a servant, watching as you naïvely followed that hooded man?