The idea for this came to me while watching The Girl in the Fireplace.

She steps into the room, her breath catching in her throat as she sees the darkened fireplace.

She presses her hand against the cold grating and wills the fixture to turn, to bring her to him.

She feels tears stinging at the corners of her eyes but sternly fights them back with a toss of her head.

She is the uncrowned queen of France. She cannot show weakness however good allowing them would feel.

He had promised her the stars and here she still is, on the slow path.

Her lonely angel was gone to the sky where he belonged.