Back inside the house, the old maid helps Sander to his room---the room always covered in ashes. He falls upon the bed, curling up. "I am sorry Sander," she sighs. "It's not your fault. It just wasn't meant to be," he murmurs hoarsely.

"Exactly. A peasant and a prince! Total rubbish!" laughs Perin from the doorway. Winesha looks over her shoulder and glares at the blonde youth. "Now see here! He had a chance! Why'd you have to spoil it!?" she asks sternly.

"He didn't have a chance! A man with a man isn't natural!" smirks Perin as he folds his arms, and continues, "Besides, you're getting your just rewards for breaking my sister's heart and dancing with me," he makes a disgusted face. "I didn't want to dance with you. You were the one to ask me," murmurs Sander as he curls up a bit. "But you, being the nasty faggot you are, still danced with me anyway!" he sneers at the shivering servant.

"You've done enough harm! Leave him be!" yells Winesha. "Yes I suppose I have. Though I would love to do more," Perin snickers and turns to walk out of the room. The old maid looks down at the broken redhead. "I am so sorry," she mumbles again.

Emerald eyes peer up at Winesha. "I just want to sleep for a while," murmurs Sander. The maid nods and pulls the thin blanket over his frame. "Rest will do you good," she replies. He hears her footsteps soften as she walks away from the bed and out the door.

"Why did I chase such a stupid dream that I knew would never work?" scolds Sander to himself. He shudders and trembles while letting out a sob. "Why won't this ache go away?" he whimpers to himself as he curls up in the thin sheet.

Orlah and her father arrive home a few minutes later. Gossiping, mumbling, murmuring, all incomprehensible sounds to Sander's ears echo through the hall. Before long, Sander feels a sympathetic gaze looking upon him from behind. Soft footsteps walk into the room.

"It hurts doesn't it?" asks a soft voice. A gentle hand rests upon his shoulder. The voice is warm and kind, and sounds quite familiar. "Yes, it hurts. It hurts so much. A heart breaking is most painful event of human living," whispers Sander as his face twists into a sad grimace.

"I am sorry," murmurs the voice as the stranger sits down upon the bed. It creaks under the newly added weight. Sander looks over his shoulder at the newcomer, ever wondering who the person was.

Shoulder length raven locks frame a fair woman's face. Her eyes of the sea shimmer in a mystic beauty that Sander had only seen one place before. A familiar pair of lips smiles quite warmly.

A woman of such poise holds her shoulders straight. Her dress of silver and navy trail down the floor. Sander blinks his eyes a few times, as if a ghost is in his vision. "Who are you?" he asks cautiously.

The long elegant finger slips under Sander's chin, and tilts it upward. He stares deep into the sea---and realizes who sits before him. "You're prince," murmurs Ralem.

Sander sits still while ever staring up at the raven-haired youth. Ralem lets out a girlish giggle. "Or should I say, you're princess," she adds. The Irish man gawks as his eyes flutter open and closed. "You're… you're… a woman?" he asks.

Ralem nods her head with her face in an elegant smile. "You masquerade as a boy?" asks Sander finally, since the words would not form till then. "Yes. My father wanted an heir. My mother died before she could bare one. So he was stuck with a daughter, and turned the daughter into a son," explains the princess.

Emerald eyes widen a bit more. "Why didn't you tell me?" cries Sander as he sits back from the princess' touch. "You were adorable whenever you dressed up as a lady," says Ralem with a smile.

"You also knew I wasn't a woman?" asks Sander once more as he tries to correct his confusion. The princess nods her raven head. "A cute one at that. Though you look even more attractive as a man," she giggles once more.

The Irish man's cheek flush and he turns his head. Ralem leans forward and plants a kiss to his rosy cheek. "What about your father?" asks Sander softly. "My father doesn't like the idea of me marrying a peasent," she replies. Sander looks down and lets out a sigh. "Of course," he murmurs.

"But that doesn't matter," adds the princess. Emerald eyes glance back up at her. "If your father won't allow it then it cannot happen," murmurs Sander glumly. The raven-haired woman shakes her head once more. "I have told him if he doesn't allow it then he doesn't have an heir," says Ralem with a smile.

She take's the servants hands in her own and squeezes them softly. "And so he will allow me to marry you. If you agree of course," she whispers hopefully.

The Irish beauty gazes back at the deep blue hues in Ralem's eyes. They remain silent for a short while. Then Sander spreads a goofy grin over his face."You think I am going to say no?" laughs Sander. Ralem laughs too, and throws her arms around the wounded servant. Their lips catch one another.

A kiss so affectionate and loving---All wrongs becoming mended. Sander rests his hands on the princess' hips, holding her form close to his. There they remain, entwined together once more. The world around them turns into dust in the few short moments of their kiss.

Sander drags his lips from his lover's. She looks up at the Irish man. "Come. We shall go to the palace. And you'll never have to wash another dish again," she laughs. The princess stands and help's pull Sander to his one good foot. "Sounds good to me," replies Sander, his voice filled with cheer.

Draping an arm over her shoulder, Ralem makes for the door as she helps Sander limp along beside her. "As you can see. I was hiding something from you too," murmurs Ralem. "That doesn't matter to me. I think it is fate that we have met in such a manner," chuckles Sander.

Ralem arches one of her black eyebrows. "Oh? You think so?" she muses in question. "Yes. Fate brought us together by crossdressing," he laughs once more as they hobble out of the manor.

"Fate works in strange ways,"