"'Happily Ever After' is a lie, but one we want to believe. Because if we don't, if there's no hope for the fairy-tale princess, then what hope is there for the rest of us?"—Unknown

Something evil lurked in the fairy-tale kingdom of Ever After, a mid-size principality located in an isolated mountain range beyond The Rainbow and bordering Atlantis. No one knew who was responsible for said lurking, but every so often, a ragged child from the village at the foot of the mountain would disappear.

Because this was a juicy and mysterious tragedy, people loved to speculate on the cause. Each morning as the townsfolk fetched their water from the well in the center of town, a torrent of gossip, and fear spread from one mouth to the next. Some blamed an evil witch. Others insisted it was dragons, sunspots, fairies, gods, trolls, or that time Ivar, the town fool, opened an umbrella indoors. The list goes on and on.

Like all kingdoms, someone had to be in charge of stuff and live in the castle, and be the profile engraved upon the local currency. In Ever After, that guy was a prince named Charming.

Because he was so handsome, the currency of Ever After became as sought after as his large, well-manicured hand in marriage. To say Charming was handsome was an understatement, like "the sun is warmish" "or blue whales are largish."

How handsome was he, you ask?

His eyes were so blue; you could drown in them. His jaw so sharp, it could cleave your heart in two. His golden-brown hair was so lustrous; it shone like a beacon, even in the dark. His man parts, which were fairly visible in the tight jodhpurs* (fashionable at the time), caused both men and women to faint. There was a lot of grumbling in the Royal Mounted Paramedic Guild because of all the drowning and slicing and fainting, although a few of its members appreciated the overtime.

It was as if the heavens contrived to make the ideal man. His only imperfection was the jagged scar of a bite mark on his left hand. Charming never discussed the origin of the injury, which was odd. Most men of the time loved to brag about their battles. They'd compare scars, one-upping each other with tales of the gruesomeness, prowess, and pain involved in earning them. But Charming kept his hidden inside gloves or pockets.

Like any single, nearly perfect prince of the age, it was high time he married. But how to find the one?

You probably know the next part of the story, but for those who grew up on Jupiter or were raised by Siberian wolves, allow me to refresh your memory:

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The Story of Ashley (aka Cinderella)

Once upon a time, there was an orphan girl, Ashley, who worked as a servant to her abominable Stepmonster and her two abysmal daughters. Although Ashley was shrilly and consistently ridiculed for being covered in ash from the kitchen fire, she never complained. Her only friends were the bluebirds, mice, and other forest creatures who regularly came to her attic room for cheese and occasional dressmaking.

The first time she asked for anything came when Prince Charming announced a ball and invited all the maidens of the land. Ashley's Stepmonster said no way. Sooty servants could not attend. It would mortify her to sully the family name!

With this pronouncement, Ashley shuffled to the furthest edge of the garden, so as not to disturb anyone with her tears, and sat on a decaying log, trying to ignore the sharp splinters embedding themselves in her derriere. But someone heard the quiet sobs—her fairy godmother.

A fairy godmother sounds like something all of us would like to attain. But doing so is difficult. As a matter of fact, there is a checklist for earning a fairy godmother. Potential fairy goddaughters must fulfill at least 7 of the following:

1. Be orphaned**

2. Endure a life of extreme hardship

3. Never complain

4. Communicate regularly with forest animals

5. Sing like an angel

6. Possess tiny feet***

7. Have great beauty but not know it.

8. Run the 100-meter dash in under 11 seconds in heels

9. Can pick a lock

10. Master a complete repertoire of ballroom dances despite never having a lesson

Having achieved not just 7 but all 10 of the requirements, Ashley earned herself a short, wrinkly, bent-over, silver-haired, slightly forgetful fairy godmother named Maxine.****

With her fairy godmother's help, Ashley attended the ball, captivated the prince, and lost a glass slipper running away from him at midnight because that's when the spell went kaput. Oh, and she ended up with terrible blisters.

The next day, whilst bandaging her feet, the prince and his retinue showed up at Ashley's house with the missing problematic footwear. For some never explained reason, even though the spell ended at midnight, and the carriage, horses, gown, tiara, footmen, and driver, went back to their former molecular states, the shoes maintained their magical form.

Magic doesn't always follow logic.

Even though her Stepmonster had locked Ashley in the attic so she could not try on the shoe and marry the prince, our heroine picked the lock (see skill #9), came downstairs, and said, "hey" to the prince. He asked her to try on the shoe. She pointed to her bandaged foot. "Sorry, Prince Charming, but my foot has blisters on it right now."

If you read the original Grimm version of the fairy tale, you know some women (including her stepsisters) in a desperate ploy to win the prince, cut off their heels, and/or big toes to fit into the glass slipper. Which is why Prince Charming was shocked Ashley wasn't desperate to try it on. That's when he knew she was "the one." Guys like a bit of a chase and women with unmaimed feet.

Ashley and Charming got married and "lived happily ever after."

The End

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Now that you have the backstory, we can get back to the actual post-wedding adventures of Her Royal Highness, Princess Ashley.

Ashley had moved her meager belongings to Cornell Castle—a size-B modern fairy tale palace, perched upon a sheer cliff on the highest mountaintop in Ever After. The place was fully loaded with swan-laden ponds, a free-range herd of snowy unicorns, unused dragon stables, sunlit jasmine-wrapped pergola, a dank dungeon, secret magical passageways, and an enchanted indoor heart-shaped jacuzzi with Ed Sheeran love songs playing on an endless loop.

Ashley had two main issues with castle living. One, her stomach twisted into a pretzel of anxiety that she would never get the place straight, and she'd spend the rest of her life being lost in her own home unless she brought along a tour guide every time she needed to eat or bathe. And two, its location so close to the cliff didn't help her paralyzing fear of heights.

Ashley and Charming had been married for three months. Tonight, like most nights, Princess Ashley waited for her prince to return from his longest quest yet, resigned to spending another evening hanging out with the rose wallpaper in the opulent royal bedchamber. If she stared long enough, the roses looked like monsters with fanged mouths and demon eyes.

Hey, there was no television yet in the fairy tale realms, so one had to entertain oneself in any way one could. There were few approved activities for a royal princess. As Ashley despised embroidering cushions and was still waiting for the latest issue of Princess Monthly Magazine, all she had left was wallpaper-gazing. The boredom almost made her nostalgic for the 16 hours a day of hard labor at her Stepmonster's house. At least the hours had passed quickly.

For once the balls, and the state dinners, and her interview with Princess Monthly Magazine were over, she had way too much worrying time. Mostly she fretted about how Prince Charming had been gone for nearly a month on this current trip, killing dragons or jousting with turnips or whatever princes did when they weren't attentive husbands. Perhaps his love for her had faded. She'd already chewed her fingernails to the quick, much to the chagrin of the royal manicurist.

The clock in a distant cathedral chimed midnight, reminding Ashley of that wondrous night when Charming had begged her to stay at the ball. When he wanted her desperately, they'd had a pleasant laugh later when she explained that fairy godmother magic dissolved at the stroke of midnight. Upon the twelfth bong, Ashley brushed away a lone tear. Of what use were tears? They wouldn't keep her prince at home. She clenched her jaw and shook her head, golden curls flopping against her cheeks. It was time to take action, and she knew who to ask for help. All she needed was to bring back the magic.

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