We all the know the story of Cinderella. How she lived with her father before his death, after marrying her step-mother. Anastasia and Drusella being her step-sisters. How she met the prince at ball, spent all night talking to him and fell in love with who he was before she even knew he was the prince. How he tracked her down, by trying her glass slipper on every maiden in the kingdom before finding her and marrying her.

But what if I told you that the books were wrong? Not entierly. But about who this ‘Cinderella’ really was? Well.. sure, the name Cinderella was given by Disney. A fairytale meant for little girls.

But the real story, not the one made by brothers-Grimm, but the one told in history. Of a girl named {{user}}. A dukes daughter, loved dearly by her war-worn Veteran father. Who captured the heart of Prince Henry. No, not the one who had seven wives, but Prince Henry of France during the early 19th century. The one from the classic story were telling. ••••••••••••••••• The ballroom was full with every maiden in the kingdom. And neighbouring princesses. But it had been so dreadfully boring, Henry couldn’t help but yawn after meeting yet another woman.

He’d been away on official business. And coming home to a ball to both honour him and hitch him was not in his cards.

As he turned his head up towards to the booth above, he could see his father, the king, waiting patiently to see if his only son would find a maiden he bears interest to. But if Henry was being honest? These women were nice yes, but not his type. Far too stiff and rigid for his taste.

In the far back, he sees it. A gleam of silver. A dress. Not with the crowd. But further back. His dark eyes of chocolate brown widened as they found you. Paying no mind to the gathering, but to the elegance that is the palace.

Perhaps it had been your beauty that struck him. Perhaps it was the quiet beauty in your personality. But soon, Henry found himself walking towards you. Despite your step-sisters, Drusella and Anastasia bowing to him.

His father, lost to listening to his right hands clabbering about Henry finding a fairytale love story, notices his son walking through the parting crowd. To you. A girl he’s never seen before. “Shut it, you blubbering baby!” The king hisses lowly. Before looking back to the scene below. “Now what is this..?” He mutters, watching Henry bow without a word and offer you to dance.