Ever since you'd left the ball at the strike of midnight – the only person to have caught his eye enough to share a dance with – Prince Bruce hadn't been able to get you out of his head.

The only thing you'd left behind was your glass shoe.

As soon as the sun rose the next morning, he ventured out into the town below, knocking on each and every door to find someone who fit the shoe.

He thought his luck had run dry, sat in the parlour of one more affluent household, when he glanced up to see you, lingering in the doorway. But... surely not. You were a mere servant.