Quiera was nervous. She could feel the butterflies dancing madly in her stomach. It was the night of the ball and as was customary for all the balls, the princesses had to be presented to all the gathers in a grand gesture. Quiera always hated this part. She was forced to walk out between her two younger, ravenously beautiful sisters. She didn't know why she should even be nervous though. Standing between her two sisters, no one ever even noticed her anyway.

Quiera loved her family dearly, even her sisters. But sometimes she really hated being a princess. There was always so much pressure put on her to act and look a certain way. It was even worse for her, having to come from such a beautiful family. Quiera wanted so much out of life. And one of the most important things to her was to be loved for who she was, not what she was.

She loved the balls because she loved to meet the people that came from all over the countryside to attend them. It fascinated her to hear tales of other lands. But she did not like the pressure that came along with the balls. Everyone was watching the princesses to see if they would find a suitable husband. But for the last six balls that had been held, she had left the ball without a suitor. She was waiting for that one true love and had yet to find him.

Now dressed in elaborately jeweled gowns and elegant head pieces, Princess Quiera paled in comparison to her sisters by mere appearance alone. Princess Elise had chosen a beautiful golden gown, long and flowing and adorned with rubies and garnets. Her glorious locks of auburn hair were swept up into her tiara, which was elaborately decorated with peacock feathers.

Princess Cassandra had chosen a soft pink gown with a pale blue silk scarf. Almost every inch of her dress was adorned with pearls. They covered her bodice, trimmed the hem of her dress and were woven into the graceful upsweep of the princess's beautiful blond hair. Even her tiara had strands of pearls added to it.

As elaborate as the ball would be, Princess Quiera could not bring herself to bother with such fancy attire. Although she loved and admired the attire that her dear sisters had chosen, she had decided that simple was better for her. She had chosen a beautiful dark green silk gown. It was not decorated or trimmed as her nurse mother had wanted. Quiera had decided that nothing would be added to her gown. The sheer beauty of the color was enough for her. Nor did she decorate her tiara. It looked lovely as it was, small and dainty. It seemed to fit perfectly with Quiera's long curly locks that fell loosely on her shoulders.

Although Quiera felt small and insignificant next to her sisters, she held her head high as she made her way to her place near her mother's throne. An air of dignity and grace surrounded her. She smiled her most radiant smile and stared straight ahead at the family crest that hung a foot above her parents heads.

Only one time had Quiera decided to smile at the people of the ball. Only one time and it had broken her heart. So many eager faces to greet the royals, only most of the focus had been on her two sisters. Awe and admiration were apparent on the faces of those around them as they gazed lovingly at Princess Elise and Princess Cassandra. The women wanted to be them and the men wanted to be with them.

This did not bother Quiera. She knew that they were beautiful and she too felt awe for them. What bothered her were the faces that looked back at her. They held equal admiration, only there was a tinge of pity. Pity for the fair maiden whose parents and sisters were blessed with a wealth of beauty. Pity for the princess who, at 24 years old, was still not married.

Of course, there had been suitors. She was, after all, a princess and she did retain some of her mother's beauty. But Quiera was different. She was intelligent and head strung. She was creative and commanded a level of excellence that many were not able to give. She was by no means a typical girl.

And now, here she sat, at the end of the greeting line. Since she was the oldest, it was a show of respect for the younger sisters to be greeted first. She looked down at Elise who was busily batting her eyelashes and laughing playfully at a handsome Duke who currently stood before her.

Beyond her sister was a line of single, eligible gentlemen of royalty and nobility. All were hoping to steal the heart of a princess. In the hands of each gentlemen were 3 long stem roses, one for each of the princesses. Although Quiera loved roses, loved their fragrance, she felt that it lacked originality that they all should carry the same flowers. Her mother had told her a long time ago when Quiera had attended the first ball that roses were given because of their simple elegance.

"Besides" her mother had said "the castle would be overrun with flowers if each gentleman were to bring anything else. Imagine, child, the lengths that these men would go through trying to vie for the affection of a princess. The lengths that they would go through to out do one another. I fear we would have no flowers left in the kingdom." Quiera had laughed at her mother for this. An image of the castle with flowers pouring from its windows, the royal family being pushed from its very walls, filled the princess's mind. She smiled as she remembered that image clearly. Quiera watched as the first gentleman approached her, a smile covering his face. 'It's going to be a long night' she thought to herself.

As the gentlemen began their introductions, violin music filled the air. As was tradition, once all men had been given their chance to impress the princesses, it would then be time to begin the ball. The princesses would have the opportunity to dance with those gentlemen that had interested them. This would allow them time to get better acquainted with the young men.

There were times when a princess did not make a choice. Princess Quiera was frequently known to do this. Although quite bothersome at times because of the rumors and gossip that were created, Queen Madeline truly admired her daughters desire for someone who was worthy of her.

After about the five gentlemen, Quiera had enough. She was ready to go back to her room, take her book out on the balcony and get lost in a land of make believe. Her smile felt so fake and forced, her manners pushed to their limit. She turned to her sister to see who would be coming to her next. Sighing, she turned forward again. That was when Quiera saw the beautiful Lilly of the Valley that had been presented to her. It was a lovely flower, peach and tinged with pink around the edges.

"A flower can hold no beauty when compared to you, sweet princess" came a slow southern drawl. Startled by the gesture, which was highly unexpected and completely against tradition, Quiera turned to her left as a handsome, yet strange, gentleman walked out before her. He bowed forward, tipping his hat to her very slightly.

Quiera was stunned. Before her stood a handsome man, a devilish sparkle in his amazing emerald green eyes. A wave of finely sculpted brown hair lay under his black hat. He smiled a most brilliant smile and Quiera could have sworn she saw a flash of gold. His clothing was oddly strange in the regal environment, but there was an elegance to his dress. A crisp white shirt, black slacks, and a deep emerald jacket that matched Quiera's dress perfectly. He was of average height and build, but Quiera paid no mind to that.

What struck her was the way in which he looked at her. It was as if she were the only one that existed, a moment shared by only them. And as he began to speak, his voice sung to her heart.

"I have heard the tale of a princess whose beauty was so true that no man dared try to tame it, her mind so bold no man dare challenge it, her heart so pure that no man dare try and claim it," the man in the emerald coat said, their eyes bound together by fate.

"Kind sir" Quiera finally managed to say. Her heart raced madly. "I fear you may have me confused with my sisters. For their beauty..." she said as she made a sweeping gesture with her arm toward her sisters.

"Eyes the color of a sun kissed field, hair that holds the very essence of dawn in its silken strands, a spirit that would challenge even the most mischievous sprite, and a smile that could tame even the most ferocious beast." he said as kneeled down on one knee before the princess. He held out his hand to her. "May I?"

Quiera was speechless. Her mind, her body, her soul...she had no control over any of them. She was lost in this man's gaze. Forgetting tradition, her sisters, the gentleman at the ball.....forgetting everything, Quiera reached out her hand to this man and allowed him to lead her to the ballroom floor. Once there, he turned and drew her to him.

"Who are you?" she said as she allowed him to take her hand. His hand finding the small of her back. "Where did you come from?" As he drew closer to her, she could smell dust and a faint scent of whiskey laced with cigar smoke.

He laughed lightly, his warm breath caressing her neck. "I guess you are at a disadvantage here. My name is Ezra P. Standish" he said as he drew his head back so that he was facing the princess. Quiera watched him with sheer amazement. Their faces were merely inches from one another. She studied the detail of his face, the lines around his eyes, the smoothness of his skin. "I come from a place that is very far from here" he said, his breath caressing her lips.

Meanwhile, the king and queen had been closely watching this show of total disregard to the noble tradition. The king was livid. Standing from his throne, he motioned for his closest guard. "I want you to put an end to this mockery" the King shouted as he turned his attention back to his daughter.

The Queen put a hand out to stop the guard. "Wait" she said as she continued to watch the two young lovers. The joy that she saw on her daughter's face had not been there in ages. It was a pleasure to see her enjoying herself for once.

The King was shocked. "Why have you stopped my orders? I will not allow this kingdom to suffer this blatant mockery. He will be removed from the ball and sent to the gallows" he said, fury burning in his eyes.

"Is your nobility so important that you would ruined your daughters happiness? Look at her, husband. She shows joy. Please allow her at least that. Do not humiliate her during the ball" the Queen said, pleading for her husband to try to understand.

Ezra studied every line and every detail of the beautiful princess's face. He wanted to hold her, to touch her, to kiss her. At last, his will could resist no more. Drawing her to him, he began to prepare himself to kiss the gentle lips of his princess. But a few seconds before their lips would meet, the princess pulled away. Ezra was stunned. "Princess, have I offended?"

Quiera did not answer. She turned her head, drawing a hand to her face.

"Princess?"

"ACHOO!"

Quiera turned back to face her prince, her cheeks burned red with embarrassment. "Excuse me" she said as she bashfully returned her gaze to Ezra's face. "The dust" was her explanation. Ezra laughed. He had feared that his love was being scorned, but Quiera fell right back into his arms. Reaching into his inner pocket, he pulled out his handkerchief and handed it to her.

Smiling graciously, Quiera took the fine white linen handkerchief from Ezra, noting the beautifully embossed initials E.P.S in the right hand corner. The blue threads glistened under the ballroom lights. She brushed it against her nose and drew in the soft musk smell that the handkerchief had. Clutching it in her hand, Quiera once again lost herself in Ezra's smile.

They danced to the chamber music for what seemed like an eternity, around and around the ballroom they went. It was as if no one else existed, not people, not nobility, not even time. Only Quiera and Ezra.

Finally, Ezra put a stop to their dance. They stood before one another, Ezra's hands covering hers. He brushed the back of his fingers down the side of her cheek, before running his hand into her beautiful thick hair. He stared at lips, her soft pink lips, lips that he wanted to kiss, lips that were so inviting. When he looked into her eyes, he found that same wanting in them. And he was happy to oblige.

Ever so gently, he inched his lips to hers. The feeling of destiny strong within their bodies. His lips brushed her lightly as he drew them across her mouth. He brushed them once again, in the other direction causing the hair on the back of her neck to rise. His tongue traced the path around her lips with the skill of a artist. He began to suckle her bottom lip, gently drawing it into his mouth. He drew a deep breath when he felt her hands move up his back, coming to rest at the base of his neck. His desire was so intense that he could take it no longer. He set his lips firmly to hers, and allowed the passion to explode in that kiss.

Her heart raced madly as he caressed her hair. His lips ravaging hers. 'Oh, his taste.....his touch.....his passion........

"Quiera. What are you doing?"

Quiera heard the voice, but it was so far away. The ball was around her. The prince, she was in his arms.........

"QUIERA"

Startled, Quiera quickly raised her head. Bewilderment clouded her eyes as they quickly darted around her New York office before landing on Mary as she stood in the office doorway. "How...wha.....uhhmmm." She shook her head as Mary's laughter filled her ears. Looking up at her, she could see Mary motioning to the side of Quiera's face. Drawing her hand to her cheek, she felt the paper clip as well as the Post-It note that had attached to it during her nap. Quiera quickly dislodged them from her skin.

Still laughing, Mary spoke, "You know if Larabee finds you sleeping in here when you are supposed to be presenting the Tanner presentation to him in ten minutes, he will have your head." Mary crossed the large office, opening the blinds to allow the bright afternoon sun to pour into the room.

"The Tanner presentation! Oh Mary, I forgot" Quiera said as she stood up from her desk. She ran her hands through her hair and down the front of her suit, trying to smooth them back into place.

"I will meet you down at Larabee's office" she said as she headed for the door. Turning to her friend, "Did you have a nice nap?"

Quiera riffled through the papers on her desk. Looking up at her friend, she smiled, "You know, I had the strangest dream. I was a princess, and there was this guy. It felt so real." Quiera drew her hand to her lips. She could still feel the sensation of his tongue as it had caressed her lips.

Mary laughed. "There is always a guy. You will have to tell me about it later. Because right now, that guy is Mr. Larabee. And try rubbing your cheek......you have a paper clip imprint in your skin. Good thing you didn't have any thumb tacks laying around," Mary laughed as she closed the door behind her.

'Funny,' Quiera thought to herself as she grabbed the files she needed for her presentation. She took a deep breath. The headache that had driven her back to her office before lunch was gone. She felt 100%. "Time to dazzle," she said as she grabbed the last of the files.

Heading for the door, Quiera caught a glimpse of something white lying near her chair. She stopped and bent down to pick it up. In her hand was a fine white linen handkerchief. "I wonder where this came from?" she said to no one in particular. She turned it over in her hand. That was when she noticed the monogram and her breath caught in her chest. "It can't be," she gasped as she studied it closely.