"I promise you, Your Highness," Cinderella said. "I can keep going. I feel perfectly fine." She showed him a brave smile. "This is the happiest moment of my life."
The Prince placed a kiss on her delicate lips. "Special moments like this can only be shared if you call me Greg, from now until forever dies."
Cinderella blushed, and Greg couldn't help but marvel at her uncommon beauty. "I love you, Greg," she said in a quiet voice. Moved with his love for her and by the tremble he could hear in her voice, Greg placed his hands on Cinderella's white clad shoulders and pulled her closer. His right hand traveled up her neck till he could stroke her chestnut hair, which was pulled away from her face in a fancy up-do he was sure the royal hair dresser had spent hours on. His fingers wondered to her cheek. She shied away at his touch, turning herself so that his hands lost contact. "The people are waiting."
With a smile, Greg took her hand in his, squeezing it. "Ready?" he asked.
The doors of the church swung open. A wave of cheers and whistles flooded Cinderella's ears. Rice began to pelt her on every side. She laughed as her prince pulled her down the stairs quickly.
And then her shoe came off,
She giggled. How typical, she thought. My slipper would come off on my wedding day.
The king, of all people, ran forward to fetch her slipper. He fit the shoe onto her tiny foot with a shy grin and blushed a deep shade of red when she thanked him with a little kiss on his crown.
The golden carriage was waiting at the bottom of the steps.
Before he knew it, the Prince was alone with his bride, on his way back to the castle.
He kissed his wife. "And Greg and Cinderella lived happily ever after," he murmured as his lips contented to brush her's softly.
"I like the sound of that." Cinderella pronounced. But that wasn't the end… it was only the beginning.
And thus, my life with Prince Greg began.
For some reason, every girl wants to marry a prince. Why? One in a hundred of them are actually decent people. Just because he has the title of "Prince," does not mean that he is a perfect male specimen. To all women who dream of princes on white horses, forget about it. You'll be happier with the farm boy from next-door, or the butcher's son, or the fisherman.
Don't get me wrong. Greg is amazing. I love him with all of my heart, and, yes, I am lucky to be a princess, but have you ever asked a princess if her job is easy, because I guarantee she is going to say no. The hardest part of dealing with a prince for a husband is training him to serve.
Greg was always told he would be king someday. It was what he was raised on. Of course everyone wants to treat the future king with respect and and loyalty, which involves stupid gifts and pointless service.
You know my story. I spent the ten years before my marriage slaving for a wicked step mother and her two… lovely daughters. I didn't want to live with greedy people like that for all of my life. Mostly, I didn't want to become greedy myself.
This is the story of how I taught "Prince Charming" how to love.