She danced all night until she could no longer feel her feet.
And in the mornings, she chose to sleep like she was never going to wake up again.
This had been her routine for the past five days, waltzing away in this secret paradise to escape her harsh realities.
Each minute spent in her dreamy prince’s arms was a calming breath she could take when the clock finally struck midnight and the meat cleaver’s caress threatens to cloud her mind.
She had lost much of her lower limbs by now.
Yet in her dreams, she just kept on dancing.
The princess met the mirror by accident, and had not meant to fall for its charms.
Yet, here she is standing before it for the third straight day, angling for her best sides like she lives for nothing else.
“Mirror, mirror on the wall... Who is the fairest of us all?”
The Mirror replies right away lest he incites the young girl’s disfavor. “The new face may take some time to settle, but even without it, you shall remain unrivaled, my lady.”
“Liar,” the princess teases, adjusting the bloody mask on her face. “I wonder what my stepmom would say...”
Gingerly, she placed her hair on the hook, measuring out the length the prince would need to scale her doorless tower.
As soon as the charming blond head appeared at the window, the imprisoned princess put on her most inviting smile.
She had no room to back out now, and the clueless visitor did not even get to scream.
Cutting off the head was surprisingly easier than sewing her hair into the prince’s delicate scalp.
But just before sunset, she was miraculously out of that tower.
While the prince’s head dangled on the anchoring hook, waiting for the witch’s return.
With only a minute left to midnight, she should’ve been well on her way back home.
But the enraptured girl just kept on dancing on her glass shoes.
On and on she went. Round and round she spun in the charming prince’s arms.
Her feet were sore, though her heart was surprisingly light.
Just a second more, she thought. Just one more second...
Then the clock struck twelve.
And the disguise could no longer hide the truth.
She was back home no later than two.
A disheveled beast in blood-stained gown... And one glass shoe.
It’s true that bringing the golden ball back was nothing more than a strategic move. After all, a frog like him had nothing to lose and everything to gain from the girl who valued nothing.
So he dove, took the ball between webbed hands, and swam back up like his entire life depended on it.
“Take me home,” he said, a royal request to which the girl just groaned.
Then slipped in an attempt to run away.
The frog had since moved to a different pond.
One that didn’t have a proud princess resting on its chilly bottom.