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Deep in the heart of the sacred land of the kingdom Roswell, Princess Isabel marched in flustered circles around her bedchambers. Her heavy red velvet gown draping over her bare feet as she nervously gripped her belly, trying to subdue the butterflies within. Tonight was yet another ball to signify her fathers trying to send her into the arms of some strange man, but there was something else that was strangely unsettling about this night's future event. She had an almost legendary status at casting off so many suitors, so she did not understand what made her so enfeebled. It was going to be just another boring ceremony, and another dull suitor. Still she could not explain the nerves she was experiencing at the moment. She grew weary of so many men coming to justify why they deserved her hand, as she sighed and stared out the window. A woman's heart was not some prize to claim, in her eyes it was to be earned. Preferably by someone noble, and brave, and…sweet. A knock on her ch! amber door brought her out of her thoughts and restlessness.

"Who calls?" she asked.

"It is I, your majesty," a feminine voice answered.

"Elizabeth," Isabel smiled to herself. "Come in, come in," she said aloud.

"Why hast thou called for me?" Elizabeth asked curiously, entering the room.

"Do I appear different to you?" asked Isabel.

"You do seem a bit flustered m'lady," Elizabeth replied.

"But why?" she asked sitting down on her large oak bed. "I did not get so nervous at all the other suitors my father sent for. They were all self-absorbed bafoons. What could be so special about this one?"

"You indeed know why you are so…apprehensive, dear Isabel," Elizabeth stated. "The one who comes for your hand this day, just happens to be the strongest knight in all the land."

"It is not only that," Isabel admitted, blushing slightly. "I have heard other things…"

"Oh my, what kind of things?" Elizabeth asked with the enthusiasm of a young child.

"That he has the soul of a poet," Isabel whispered contently.

"Could it be?" Elizabeth said in false dramatic tone, "That our lady faire has finally found a suitor?"

"I did not say that," Isabel replied with a playful smile. "I have yet to even meet him."

"I still do not understand what has taken you so long." Elizabeth said wandering over to the vanity and picking up a brush. "Come, allow me to brush your hair."

"You are one to speak," Isabel said taking a seat in front of the mirror.

"Why, whatever do you mean?" Elizabeth laughed, beginning to stroke Isabel's hair with the brush.

"Do you honestly think I have not heard the stories of your courtships?" Isabel snickered. "Especially of what you did to the sheriff's son."

"Kyle," Elizabeth spit out his name as if it were rancid milk. "He had it coming to him," she defended. "He truly believed he was the most righteous gift to women. I merely showed him he was not."

"What exactly did you do that angered your father so?"

"I kicked poor Kyle in the stones," Elizabeth said firmly. "Brought him down to more of his level."

Isabel laughed so hard tears streamed down her cheeks and felt her stomach would burst.

"Ah, fair Elizabeth," she said. "That is why I love you so."

"Your kindness is so becoming," Elizabeth said. "I am afraid I must return to the main hall, you know how Prince Maxwell does not like to be kept waiting."

"Only when it regards you," Isabel replied. "He truly cannot stand the seconds you are apart. I do not know how things might have become had you not come into his life."

"I would still be rejecting suitors, and he would be as miserable as he said he was before me I suppose," Elizabeth sighed. "Not a day goes by I am not grateful I found him."

"Nor he," ensured Isabel.

"I am off," Elizabeth said heading for the door. "Do try to hurry up Princess. The Duke and Duchess await your arrival as well."

"Michael and Maria? They are here?"

"But of course, they would dare not miss it."

"I shall be down shortly."

"Oh and Isabel…"

"Yes?"

"He does indeed has the soul of poet."

Isabel smiled as she watched her brother's wife exit her chambers.

***

Making his horse come to a stop just outside the castle wall, Sir Alexander gripped his invitation scroll firmly. He still had difficulty believing that King Philip himself had sent for him to offer his daughters hand. Word of Princess Isabel's beauty had spread far and wide. He was most anxious to see her, and thought he would never reach the kingdom of Roswell. He took a moment to admire the castle, a truly magnificent building. Stone walls as high as he could see, towers shaped in a bizarre form…coned at the top with some kind of fins at the base. The moat however was full with putrid looking green water. Still he thought the place in it's entirety mesmerizing. A guard nearest the drawbridge approached him.

"What is your business here?" the guard asked firmly.

"I have come invited sir," Alexander said offering the guard his invitation.

The guard took a moment to look it over, immediately dropping to one knee when he finished.

"Forgive me Sir Alexander, I could not have known."

"To your feet sir," Alexander said, chuckling to himself. "I am no one to bow before."

"Of course you are my lord, but I shall do as you ask."

"Has the ball begun? I do hope I am not late."

"Nay sir," the guard replied. "Allow me to take your horse."

"Oh, yes. How foolish of me," Alexander said handing the guard the reins.

Alexander watched as the guard guided his horse to the stables, almost wishing he could join them. He sighed nervously, gripping lightly at the sword on his side, and slowly walked across the drawbridge.

"Quite amusing," he thought to himself. "You have faced countless enemies without a drop of fear in your heart. Yet you cannot possibly feel more weak willed than you do this moment."

He entered the great hall, immediately greeted by largest gathering of people he'd seen since his last battle. The room it self was draped to the 't' in decorative parchments and banners. A solid mix of the kingdom's trademark black, green, and silver home colors danced across the retinas. A merry group of dancers sauntered their way across the floor as a band played off a risen stage in the corner. Casting glances around the heavily decorated hall, Alexander began his decent toward the throne. The sea of patrons seemed to part for him as he passed. All the while he was hearing scattered whispers of…

"Tis' he!" "Who?" "Sir Alexander!"

Alexander felt a blush spreading across his cheeks, hoping it was not yet visible to those around him. He was still not used to such recognition.

"Alex!" he heard a voice shout, and quickly turned his toward it. He allowed but a few to call him by that name. Before he could visually connect the voice with a physical form, he felt soft feminine arms circle his shoulders and crush him. Looking down on the head of golden curls he recognized who it was.

"Lady Maria!" he shouted happily, returning the embrace. "It's been ages!"

"Indeed it has," she agreed pulling slightly away. "Tis' very good to see you again Alex."

"Good to see you as well m'lady," he replied. "Where is Michael? I should like to give him that challenge he offered when last we met."

"You shall do no such thing," she said staring him in the eye. "I do not wish to have a new set of furniture made again, after what happened the last time."

"Ah yes," Alexander said. "I did mean to apologize for that."

"I believe he is off mingling about with Prince Maxwell."

"It will be good to see old Max as well," Alexander said smiling. "Tell me, are he and Elizabeth still inseparable?"

"As always," Maria answered with a laugh. "Come, they must announce your presence," she said dragging him to the main archway of the hall.

"Royal announcer!" she shouted into the crowd. "Do be a good lad and do your duty of introducing to the court, Sir Alex!"

"Yes mum, right away," a balding man dressed in green wool replied stepping up next to her.

"Hear ye! Hear ye!" he shouted. "May I present to you, the court of King Philip and Queen Diane, of the Holy Land of Roswell. Hear for the asking of Faire Princess Isabel's hand. The slayer of the acolytes, conqueror of the highlands, finest swordsman in all the land! Sir Alexander Charles of Whitman!"

The crowd irrupted into applause as Alexander looked at his feet bashfully.

"Alex, whatever are you doing?" Maria chided. "You are a Knight! Hold your head high!"

He obliged her and raised his head just in time to see the most wondrous sight to be held. She was dressed in a beautiful red velvet gown, her shimmering blonde hair in high braids and lovely necklace with a strange triangle shape on it, hung from her elegant neckline. His mouth hung slightly open.

"Why Sir Alexander, I do believe you are drooling." Maria giggled.

"I-I have heard tales of tales of her b-beauty," Alexander stammered. "But I never…"

"Indeed," Maria said smiling, "Indeed."

The announcer bellowed again, this time introducing the presence of Princess Isabel.

"Hear ye! Hear ye! May I present to you, this royal banquet. The most prodigious, miraculous, astonishing, beauty ever to be held…Princess Isabel of Roswell!"

The crowd irrupted into cheers once more. All but Alexander, who just gazed in awe at the exquisiteness of her features. Something inside of him was tingling from head to toe; the mere sight of her was causing his heart to beat rapidly. Although he could not realize it, for no experiencing it ever does. He was quickly being pummeled with the symptoms of love at first sight. Never could he believe in such a thing, yet here it was. He watched her take her seat next her mother, the queen. To her mother's right was the King, and to his right, Maxwell and Elizabeth lost in each other's loving eyes once more. Michael appeared on Maria's left side and took her hand in his. Alexander looked over to him.

"Duke," he said tilting his head in a nod.

"Sir," Michael responded with the same nod. Before smiling, "Enough with the formalities Alex," he said sticking out his hand. Alexander took it in his and shook over dramatically.

"Good to see you," he said.

"Likewise," Michael replied. "Come to try your luck at Isabel eh?"

Maria slapped him playfully in the back of the head. "Do hold your tongue sir," she said. "And show the proper respect."

"A thousand apologies Madame," he said.

"What have I told you about calling me that?" she said in a sharp tone.

Alexander turned his head away as the bickering started. Now was not the time to be distracted by another famous quarrel between the Duke and Duchess. He looked back up to Isabel. His eyes met hers from atop her chair, and he felt the blush creep back into his cheeks for the countless time this day. But he dared not look away, for she was looking directly back at him and was doing the most amazing thing. She was smiling at him.

***

"Mother," Isabel said to the Queen. "Would that man standing next to the Duchess be Alexander?"

"Why yes it is," the Queen replied noticing the sparkle in her daughter's eye.

Isabel continued to gaze at him. Something inside of her was tingling from head to toe; the mere sight of him was causing her heart to be rapidly. Although she could not realize it, for no one experiencing it ever does. She was quickly being pummeled with the symptoms of love at fist sight. She could never believe in such a thing, yet here it was.

"I was not told he was so handsome," Isabel said quietly.

"Isabel!" her mother exclaimed. "What has gotten into you?"

"My apologies mother."

"I like it," her mother replied giving her a wink.

"Sir Alexander!" the King bellowed. "You will honor me by approaching."

Alexander walked slowly toward the King, his gaze slightly wavering from Isabel's.

"Your majesty," Alexander said bowing.

"Sir," the King replied nodding his head in approval. "You are aware of why I have called for your presence this day?"

"I am your majesty."

"Very good. Then let us not drown ourselves in the formalities. Isabel, my precious rose, come here for a moment."

"Yes father," she replied rising from her chair.

"May I introduce to you to Sir Alexander," the King said with a hopeful smile.

"Sir Alexander," Isabel said still gazing into his eyes.

"Your majesty," he said again, leaning on one knee.

"Let the ball begin!" the King shouted.

A band instantly began to play and the hordes of people started to dance. Alexander looked onto the crowd a bit stricken, before nervously glancing back at Isabel.

"I would love to dance," she said taking his hand.

"D-dance…yes of course."

She led him onto the floor and the gathering of people spread out into a large circle to watch them.

"M-must they do that?" Alexander asked trying to hold his anxiety.

"If they do not, my father shall have their heads."

"O-oh yes," he said dropping his look to the floor.

"Am I making you nervous?" Isabel asked with a grin.

"A little bit yes," he admitted.

"Just how am I doing that?"

In the center of the circle he wrapped his left arm around her waist and drew her close. Taking her right hand in his, he began to dance in an energetic line.

"Tales of your beauty have traveled far your majesty," he said. "But I can see they have hardly done you justice."

"Such things you say," Isabel softly said in a bit of shock, and a slight grin. "Is it true what I have heard of you?"

"That really depends on what you have heard," Alexander replied dipping her slightly. "W-what have you heard?

"That you have the soul of a poet," she said gazing into his eyes again. "And by what I can see in these gentle eyes of yours I am inclined to believe them."

Alexander blushed a deep crimson at her words, and turned his head and hoping he would not see it.

"Oh my, you are modest as well."

He smiled and leaned close to her ear.

"She has the eyes of a million burning suns
In her red velvet that compliments her so completely
All the stars point to her and shout 'she is the one'
Because her lips can only be compared to a plum
But I believe them to taste far more sweetly."

A large smile spread across her face as she sighed contently.

"You do have the soul of a poet," She whispered, as she leaned closer to him.

***

"Do you see that my wife?" the King asked the Queen with a choked laugh. "I believe she likes the lad."

"Indeed," the Queen agreed. "Perhaps she has found the one."

"Agreed, my Queen" Elizabeth said. "I have only seen that look once before."

"When?" the Queen asked turning her attention to her.

"When I first laid eyes on her," Maxwell said with a smile toward Elizabeth. "I believe Isabel to be having the same feeling as I at this moment."

"We shall see my son," the Queen said turning her head back toward the dancing Isabel and Alexander. "We shall see."

***

"How do you feel about all this?" Alexander asked his eyes circling the room.

"You mean this 'having to choose a suitor' nonsense?"

"Yes."

"I am not too fond of it at all really. Most of the men my father sent for were… Well I did not like them in the least."

"I agree actually. I am not one to believe that upon meeting someone there will be the instant need to spend the rest of your life with them. Especially when it is somewhat forced upon you on an occasion such as this."

"You are?" she said her look saddened.

"Well I was inclined to believe that, but that was before…"

"Before?"

"Before ever laying my eyes on such a breathtaking sight as yourself," Alexander said with sincerity.

"Are you always like this?" she asked.

"Like what m'lady?"

"Undyingly sweet…"

"If it bothers you, I shall stop."

"No!" she nearly shouted. "I do enjoy it so."

***

"Do you see Michael?" Maria said jabbing him in the side. "That is what I am speaking of when I say be more romantic."

"You mean looking like a fool strutting about like that?" he replied.

"I do not know why I even try with you."

"Because you love me so."

"Yes well, do try to not use it to your advantage." She said giving him a kiss on the cheek.

"I am surprised," Michael said.

"By what?" Maria asked curiously.

"They have been dancing for more than a minute, and Isabel has not yet struck him and stormed off in a huff."

"I do not think that will happen this time," Maria stated firmly looking at the dancing couple. "Can you not see the look in her eyes?"

"Look?" Michael questioned.

"Men," Maria muttered under her breath, "never do they notice the details."

***

"Princess," Alexander began.

"Please call me Isabel," she said.

"Isabel," he said with a smile. "What is to become of this night?"

"I…I do not know," she replied solemnly. "But I do like the direction it is heading in."

"Which direction is that?"

"Into your arms I hope," she said with stars shining in her eyes.

It was that moment, that Sir Alexander Charles of Whitman, most decorated Knight in the kingdom of Roswell, poet and songsman at heart. Steely and deadly adversary in the heat of battle. Gave his soul to Princess Isabel, for he knew without a doubt that she would give hers in return.

"Does this mean?"

"It does Sir Alexander…that is if you will have me."

"Call me Alex," he said brushing a lock of hair from her forehead. "Of course I shall have you, there is no one else I would ever wish to be with."

"Alex," she said in a husky whisper. "Aren't you going to kiss me?"

He stopped their rather elongated dance number, and gently cupped her face in his hands. Not even the least bit distracted by the sudden gasp of the crowd. Slowly, savoring every scent, and feel, and touch of her. Alexander placed his lips upon hers. The crowd irrupted in applause, but the two did not even notice. Isabel placed her hands upon his shoulders; closing her eyes and letting herself become lost in his touch. Alexander wrapped his arms firmly around her waste, drinking in the electric touch of her. Isabel, his Isabel. Now until his dying breath would he belong to her and she to him.

"You know," Isabel said breaking the kiss. "This is rather like something out of a fairytale."

"I have always believed in them," Alexander replied.

"Have you now?"

"Yes of course," he assured her. "Especially the happy endings."

She smiled at him and pressed her forehead against his.

"Well, Well," the King said happily as he approached them. Flanked by the Queen, Maxwell and Elizabeth, and Michael and Maria, who all cast their approving nods and glances.

"It appears we have a wedding to plan."

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