The crowd of peasants had been waiting by the stage for what seemed like ages, with the food stalls cleaned out of every last crumb and the afternoon heat in full force. They digested the day's meal under the blinding sun, distracting themselves by picking food crumbs out of their fingernails for an extra little treat.

The scavenger hunt for food crumbs came to a halt when a carriage pulled up to the stage.

Myrielle's gaze focused in on the carriage door, watching as a young man emerged from inside. He was dressed in the royal colors and appeared to be a servant, as he quickly set to work arranging portable thrones and polishing them to perfection. Myrielle wondered what it felt like for him to serve such a corrupt royal family; or perhaps he was happy to engage in corruption for the promise of a few extra coins. She shrugged and shielded her face from the sun, more impatient for the announcement than ever.

Fredrick finished polishing the prince's throne and compared it to the others in the clarity of the afternoon sun. He noticed two more spots and scrubbed them down with precision. When he was finally satisfied, he turned back towards the carriage to fetch the flowerpots, but slowed as his gaze began to float across the crowd. He wondered what it would be like to command the full kingdom's attention, and have them hang on his every crucial word. He also wondered why a young woman in the audience was wearing an enormous dress. He squinted to get a closer look and while the skirt was indeed enormous, it was incredibly disproportionate to the rest of her frame. But maybe it was simply the latest fashion? He glanced around at the rest of the crowd and it clearly wasn't. He shrugged and returned to the carriage, realizing he'd been a servant for far too long to have any understanding of women.

Myrielle spun around and retreated towards the back, hoping the servant's stare hadn't seen through her fabric façade...

***

Thirty minutes after Fredrick finished prepping the stage, the royals' golden caravan rolled into view, accompanied by a marching band that played a steady beat. The band tried and failed to raise the crowd's energy, and as the king, queen and prince settled into their thrones, the peasants observed them with minimal affection.

The king's pudgy legs dangled off his throne as he nervously stared back at the crowd. "Why don't they look happy?" he whispered through a smile.

The queen shielded her eyes from the sunlight and shrugged. "What else would you expect from low-class citizens?"

As the prince heard his mother speak of the wretched peasants, he could barely believe they were actually going through with this plan. He searched left and right for an emergency escape route, but none of the options would allow him to one day be king.

The king cleared his throat and grinned at the dispassionate crowd. "Greetings, loyal citizens of Enraptured!"

The applause was slow and sporadic, and sensing the peasants' level of detachment he knew he had to keep things moving. "As you know, this past year has been rife with challenges."

The king was now facing some challenges himself, with the sweat pouring down his rounded cheeks in the heat of the afternoon sun. "Fredrick!"

Fredrick rushed over to dab the king's face, adding another item in the list of servant tasks that would make for a humiliating LinkedIn page.

Once the sweat had been carefully contained, the king waved Fredrick away and continued with his uninspiring speech. "Despite our many struggles, a return to former glory is just around the corner!"

Skeptical murmurs could be heard amongst the crowd.

"Right now you must all be wondering: but how your majesty?"

The prince made no effort to hide his dramatic eye roll. "Just a mockery is all," he muttered under his breath.

"And the answer," the king revealed, "is a search for the kingdom's next princess, a princess who might just be you!"

Trumpets blared, confetti flew, and teenage girls throughout the crowd screamed and cried and fainted.

In the midst of it all, Myrielle managed to stay quiet and conscious, but deep in her mind the daydream had begun. She wished she could tell herself it was foolish to consider the notion of becoming a princess. Some of her doubts had to do with how she felt about her looks, while the rest had to do with how she felt about the royal family, in terms of secretly wishing they were dead. And yet...a little voice inside her told her that this contest and a non-dead royal family could be huge.

As the rest of the crowd continued to absorb the news, a gold and blue carriage rolled up to the foot of the stage. Gianni and Fairy Godmother emerged from inside, he in his finest overcoat, and she in a glittery gown complete with artificial wings. Her famous presence seemed too much for the excitable crowd, who pushed towards the stage like a human avalanche.

"Calm yourselves!" the king commanded, though his voice had little effect against the growing surge.

Gianni nudged Fairy Godmother. "Calm them down!" he urged.

She stared at her wand with newfound curiosity; the wand that was simply a useless piece of wood since magic was no more real than unicorns. Unless...

With little expectation she raised the wand, and to her great surprise the crowd immediately hushed. She studied the wand with wonder, now drunk on power and also literally drunk. She smiled at the crowd and narrowed her eyes. "Hello my pretties."

Gianni immediately pulled her aside. "I don't recall casting you as the evil witch."

Fairy Godmother shrugged. "I'm new to this."

He pushed her back towards the center of the stage. "Now show them you're the problem-solving fairy full of cheer!"

Fairy Godmother burped and then rocked back and forth unsteadily. "I think I may have overdone it with the morning wine," she told him.

As Gianni watched all his choreographed plans go out the window, he was overcome with a barely controllable fury. He grabbed the nearest chair and forced Fairy Godmother to sit. "You and I will have a chat after this."

Once she was settled he took her spot at center stage, and his former disdain transformed into a storytelling glow. "A short time ago in a faraway land...a simple village girl too humble to dream went on to win the heart of Prince Charming."

The crowd succumbed to his oozing charisma, hanging on his every word.

"Her life would immeasurably change," he went on, "but what the kingdom didn't know, was how vastly it would change as well. Visitors from across the seven lands...booming commerce...renewed confidence on every corner..."

The queen's eyes glistened at the prospect of a kingdom in the black.

"All of it was due to an unlikely union, and let's not forget--the bestselling book that chronicled the tale." As Gianni took a moment to pay tribute to his literary achievement, a gap-toothed woman shimmied up to the stage. "Will ye imprint my bosom with yer royal seal?"

The crowd around her laughed, egging her on for a sexy moment with Gianni. This moment was as close to being a rock star as Gianni would ever get, but since rock stars didn't exist and he found her to be disgusting, he gestured to the nearest knight to remove her from his view.

Once the audience settled down, Gianni proceeded to the climax of his speech: "Now I ask you, good citizens of Enraptured, is there any reason why this story can't also be yours?"

"No!" they shouted in unison.

"And is there any reason why your legacy can't become even greater?"

"No!" they cried, with the king joining along and clapping happily.

"A lone girl's quest is certainly a story," he said, "but several girls of peasant breed vying for the prince's heart?"

The audience was completely euphoric by now, and as Gianni observed their excitement, he knew he'd made the right choice in banning noble girls from the contest. It wasn't as if the Enraptured Kingdom had a slew of noble bachelorettes to begin with, but keeping them out of the contest would result in the largest class differential, and the biggest opportunity for things to get down and dirty. As he continued to absorb the persistent applause, he was more certain than ever that his second book would become a bigger hit than the last.

As Gianni rejoiced, Prince Rainier squirmed. "But my standards are so much higher," he whined, to no one in particular. "And don't they sleep on dirt floors? He rambled on. "And how much of that dirt is embedded into her skin? Will they touch the royal furniture with their dirt-skin? Then who's going to disinfect the furniture?" He pulled at his collar as sweat trickled down his forehead. Too...many...peasant...girls."

Gianni could tell that the prince was near a state of convulsion, so he needed to get things started as soon as possible. He raised his arms to the jubilant crowd. "You seem excited to marry your prince!" The applause grew even louder. "Then what do you say we get started?" He pointed to the audience and flashed his clown-like smile. "The search for the next Cinderella begins!"

His words officially marked the beginning of season one of 'The Bachelor,' airing in the sixteenth century. It seemed an impossible concept without television or the Internet, but human nature was the only crucial ingredient, when it came to vying for the prince's heart and the bitchery that would follow...

[WRITER COMMENTARY: I know it's hard to be "team prince" right now, because look at him, he's a spoiled little bitch. But...will he learn to be a better person and become a worthy bachelor? Well of course I'm not going to tell you, like hello, that would be a massive spoiler  ;-). Instead I invite you to keep reading, and thanks for joining the adventure so far!]