Things have a way of just sorting themselves out. One day, quite out of the blue, I accidentally became a princess. But honestly, that wasn’t supposed to happen at all! And now, thanks to that tiny little logistical mix-up, I have to write a grueling formal incident report at work... But let’s not get ahead of ourselves. Let me tell you the story from the very beginning. This is a humorous fantasy rom-com with a touch of sizzling romance—and a magical reality check. Because hey, even for a fairy, true love sometimes requires ripping up the playbook. "Who has dared to indulge in this fiendish jest? Here, seize him and strip off his mask..." — Edgar Allan Poe

I was flying back from yet another assignment when I approached a building bearing the glowing neon sign Cinderella. The agency had been named in honor of the very first human girl a fairy had ever helped to achieve her dream. That charming pioneer went on to establish our firm, and today, any certified fairy on staff can step in to assist someone in desperate need of a miracle. The incoming requests arrived through handwritten letters. Some were dispatched by the girls themselves, while others practically materialized on their own, sparked by the deep, desperate subconscious whispers of those dreaming of happiness. The influx of mail never let up all season; by the time the winter balls rolled around, the sheer volume of wishes was an absolute avalanche. Luckily, today marked the official cosmic shift from spring to summer, which meant the final ball of the season was upon us. We had to equip as many "Cinderellas"—which is what we officially called our clients—as humanly possible. I flew straight through the office window and immediately gave a status report to my colleague, who was busy sorting through letters and client profiles. Skipping the usual pleasantries, I blurted out: "My client did absolutely splendidly!" I announced, landing gracefully on the floor and walking over to my desk. "She completely charmed the prince at first sight, and I slipped away the moment they hit the dance floor. Let's just hope she remembers to make her exit before midnight." "You’ve got the highest success rate in the department this quarter!" Viteria said with a warm smile, gesturing toward the empty desks of our coworkers. "The others haven't even finished enchanting their clients' corsets, and you're already back." "Well, I am officially on leave starting tomorrow, and that’s a magical motivator," I replied with a dreamy sigh. "Do you have any more paperwork for me, or am I free?" "Actually, yes. But consider this your final flight of the season," Viteria smiled, waving her wand to slide a heavy stack of folders from her desk onto mine. "Three sisters, all dreaming of the same ball. I reckon you can knock this out in no time." I quickly skimmed the girls' profiles. The youngest was seventeen, the middle one was twenty, and the eldest was twenty-five. Their father had passed away, leaving the poor things at the mercy of a wicked stepmother who had managed to squander their entire family fortune. Naturally, they were all dreaming of love, high society, and a dramatic romance. Crystal clear. "By the way, where is our new mouse cage?" I asked, looking around. "I'm completely fresh out." "Take a look in the pantry. There are plenty of black and grey ones left, though the white ones have already been snatched up," Viteria said with a shrug, turning her attention back to the files of other desperate girls who needed a miracle on this fateful night. "Thanks!" I dashed into the pantry and grabbed three sleek black mice—they would make top-tier stallions. I popped them into an enchanted container so they could breathe comfortably, and tucked it into my bag. "See you in an hour!" I called out to my friend. Stepping onto the windowsill, I unfurled my pale blue wings and took off toward the coordinates listed in the file. Just three more girls to get to the ball, and my annual quota would be officially met! Finally, that long-awaited vacation was within arm's reach. While mid-air, I pulled my wand from my bag and gave it a swift flick, casting a glamour of invisibility over myself as I cruised over the residential district. Magic night or not, there was no need to draw unnecessary civilian attention. The flight to the small town of Tanridog took me exactly ten minutes. Somewhere out on the fringes, I needed to find a faded two-story manor where the three sisters lived—three unfortunate girls whose stepmother had left them behind while she went off to the gala with her own biological daughter. Lana, Liana, and Luria weren't hard to find. In fact, I think I heard their sobbing before I actually spotted the house. Dressed in drab grey cotton dresses, the sisters were huddled around a stone well in the garden, crying their eyes out. Honestly, if left to their own devices, they probably would have filled that well to the brim with tears before the night was over. I touched down just a few feet away, but nobody noticed me. I let out a loud, highly theatrical cough, but it was no use. The girls merely shrugged, raised their heads, looked right through me, and went back to their weeping. What in the world..? Oh, right. The invisibility spell! Before breaking the glamour, I waved my wand to freshen up my own look. What kind of professional fairy shows up to a crisis in office attire? I manifested a striking "femme fatal" makeup look with sharp, shimmering midnight eyeliner and vibrant crimson lips. For the garment, I chose a light, airy evening gown in a shade of shocking pink—a color best described as "frenzied piglet," completely mismatched to my deadly efficient persona. It featured a plunging neckline and a thigh-high slit showcasing a flawless leg. The dress was intentionally revealing, designed to show the world at a glance exactly what I was capable of. The moment the veil of invisibility dropped, the girls froze in absolute shock, their mouths hanging wide open. "Are you... a fairy?" the youngest one, Lana, stammered out. "The one and only," I announced, giving my wings a couple of quick flutters to hover just an inch or two off the ground. "And I am here to get you all to the ball!" "To the ball? Really?" gasped Luria, the eldest, unable to believe her ears. "What's there to celebrate?" Liana scoffed, rolling her eyes as if she saw magical entities every day of the week. "We don't have dresses, we don't have a carriage, and we don't have invitations. Even if we did, the moment Stepmother finds out, she’ll skin us alive." "Don't you worry your pretty little heads, it’s all under control," I said soothingly. "That’s exactly why I’m here. Didn't all three of you wish to go to the ball? I can help you, but you must follow my instructions to the letter. Ready to begin?" "I'm not going," Liana said flatly, digging her heels into the dirt. "And why is that?" I asked, a hint of exhaustion creeping into my voice. Working with certain clients was never a walk in the park. Here I was, arriving ahead of schedule, ready to cater to their every whim, and we were already hitting a snag. "Because there is only one prince in the kingdom, and there are three of us," Liana countered, rolling her eyes again. "I have no desire to spend the rest of my life loathing whichever sister the prince chooses. And if he doesn't notice any of us, then the whole trip is a waste of time anyway." "Is a prince really the ultimate prize here?" I asked gently. "There will be dukes, marquises, and barons attending. Why not set your sights on them?" "The ultimate prize is becoming queen," Liana shot back stubbornly. "What about you two?" I asked, turning to Lana and Luria. "Are you also dead-set on marrying the prince?" The girls shifted uncomfortably and looked down at their feet, which gave me my answer. I absolutely despise situations like this. Packing up and leaving wasn't an option, and the wish had to be fulfilled one way or another. Alright, time to improvise... "So what do we do?" Lana frowned. "Should we draw straws to see who gets a shot at the prince?" "Nobody is drawing straws, and none of you are marrying the prince," I stated firmly, laying down the law. Fairy operational guidelines strictly forbid letting family disputes ruin an assignment. "At least, not the prince of this kingdom." I reached into my bag, pulled out a magical world map, and tapped it with my wand while murmuring an incantation. "You are going to the ball in Danosol!" I announced triumphantly, pointing to a glowing section of the map. "They have four eligible heirs over there, so you’ll actually have options." "Is there a celebration there tonight too?" Lana asked, her eyes lighting up. "Gala events are being thrown in every palace across the realms tonight to celebrate the arrival of summer. However, they are an hour ahead of us, so we really need to shake a leg!" The news of multiple princes instantly cheered the girls up, especially Liana. Once the initial wave of excitement settled, I pulled out my checklist and took charge. "Let’s get you dressed!" I said with a bright smile. "Alright, everyone line up in front of me while I figure out what suits you best." "I want something green! Bright green!" Lana piped up excitedly. "And I want blue," Luria added helpfully. "Ladies, this isn't a boutique where you just pick things off a rack," I corrected them. "I am working real magic here, not just granting superficial wishes. I need each of you to close your eyes and focus on the most beautiful, happiest moment of your life. The color and style of your gown will depend entirely on that memory. You do the thinking, and I’ll handle the rest." I closed my eyes, channeling my magic to tap into their happiest memories and translate them into fabric, though I couldn't actually peek into those private moments myself. A brilliant white light illuminated the garden, and a shower of golden sparks cascaded from the tip of my wand. When the light faded, each girl was adorned in a completely unique gown. Lana’s dress was a dream of dusty violet—a light, perfectly tailored gown with delicate puff sleeves that made her look like a fresh flower. My imagination immediately filled in the blanks. With another wave of my wand, a vine of real violets wound around her waist and laced up to her bodice, while matching blossoms were woven into her elegant updo. It was easily one of the most delicate looks I had ever created. "You look absolutely stunning!" Luria gasped, clapping her hands. "Thank you!" Lana beamed, twirling around the lawn to watch her skirt flair out. I shifted my gaze to Liana. Her gown was the most dramatic of the three—a rich gold at the hem that melted into a pure, pristine white at the bodice. The fabric seemed to glow from within, encrusted with tiny, shimmering diamonds. Everything was flawless, save for her hair, which needed a finishing touch. I flicked my wand to manifest a delicate tiara. No, that’s not it at all, I thought, shaking my head and waving the wand again. My second attempt hit the bullseye—her cascading, wavy brown hair was laced with pearls that caught the light beautifully. "Perfect! You look like a real princess," I said, giving her a playful wink. "Alright, darling, now it's your turn," I said, turning to Luria. In place of her drab dress, she was currently wearing what looked suspiciously like a plain nightgown. "Oh, sweetie, that is definitely not ball material. What on earth were you thinking about while I was casting? Did a bad memory slip in? Look, I'm sorry, I shouldn't pry..." I bit my tongue. "Let's just give it another go. Focus on a beautiful moment—something vibrant and full of life!" "Okay," Luria squeezed her eyes shut. "I'm trying... Got it!" "Excellent," I said, rubbing my palms together and giving my wand a brisk shake to clear any residual magic. I took a breath and waved the wand, enveloping Luria in a whirlwind of sparkling dust. As the magic settled, I looked at the final sister with immense satisfaction. I don't know what memory she had conjured, but her gown was breathtaking—a deep, midnight blue that mirrored a star-studded sky, featuring a graceful boat neckline and elbow-length sleeves. She wore sheer, dark gloves that added a touch of mystery, making the entire ensemble incredibly sophisticated. The only thing left to tweak was her hair. I decided an elegant updo would be best, perfectly highlighting her long, slender neck. "I can't believe that's me!" Lana squealed with delight. "High praise indeed. Thank you so much, Fairy," Luria said with a modest smile, offering a polite bow. Even Liana managed a grateful nod. "Save the thanks for later," I said, checking my itinerary. "Alright, ladies, lift your hems. Let me see your feet." "Why?" "No time for questions, just lift them!" I urged, casting an anxious glance at my watch. The sisters hesitantly raised their skirts, revealing their bare feet. "The ultimate essential for any proper ball: glass slippers!" I declared, waving my wand to manifest three pairs of perfect glass shoes, tailored to each of their sizes. "Trust me, these are the comfiest shoes you will ever wear. Guaranteed zero blisters!" "And now for the invitations," I sighed, pulling a logbook of current royal templates from my bag. Finding the correct layout for Danosol, I easily transformed three fallen leaves from the ground into personalized, gilded invitations and handed them over. Since they needed something to carry them in, I turned a few loose stones near our feet into matching clutches that perfectly complemented their gowns. I also fashioned three tiny crystal vials from pebbles, filled them with well water, and with a flick of my wand, transformed the water into exquisite perfume. Given our tight schedule, this accessory package would have to do. "But how are we supposed to get to Danosol?" Lana asked, tilting her head. "I brought backup for exactly that," I said, kneeling down to retrieve the enchanted container of mice. I released them onto the grass. "Originally, I was going to turn them into horses, but since it's a long journey, we're going with Plan B." With another flourish of my wand, three magnificent black pegasi stood before us, their massive wings expanding to an impressive six feet across. "Do you have a garden? I need a pumpkin or something similar to build a carriage," I said, looking around. "Maybe an apple?" Luria suggested, pointing to a fruit-bearing tree behind us. "I’ve never worked with fruit before, but hey, there’s a first time for everything," I said, shaking my wand to clear the extra sparks. Time to get creative, I thought. Since the girls were traveling together, the carriage needed to look cohesive. A sleek, silver coach would look absolutely stunning against the black pegasi. And, keeping with standard fairy protocol, I made sure to add a generous helping of glitter and intricate magical patterns. A few moments later, an exquisite carriage drawn by a trio of pegasi pulled up before us. For our footmen, I drafted the fireflies that had been fluttering about so carelessly. They turned out rather dashing, with glowing hair and luminous beards. Two of them climbed up to take the reins, while the other two hitched a ride on the back, ready to spring the door open the moment we arrived. "Well, my darlings, are we ready for the ball?" I asked with a bright smile. "But before I send you off, listen to me very carefully. The absolute second the clock strikes midnight, the magic will unravel. The carriage, your gowns, the footmen—everything will vanish into thin air. The only things you get to keep are those glass slippers, which will serve as a little memento of tonight." "But why does everything have to disappear?" Lana asked, her face falling. "That’s just how fairy magic works, sweetie. It’s temporary, and it dissolves at the start of a new day." "Then why do we get to keep the slippers?" Liana interjected. "Because those are my personal gift to you. Everything else was transformed from everyday objects, but the slippers were conjured from scratch." "Thank you, thank you so much!" Lana squealed, throwing her arms around me. "Oh, it's nothing really," I stammered, entirely flustered by the sudden display of affection as I gently patted her hair. "Now hurry up and hop into the carriage!" While the footmen helped our clients climb inside, I quickly reviewed my checklist. Gowns, makeup, hair, gifts, transport, invitations... check, check, check. "Hold on!" I called out to the carriage. "I forgot the most important thing on the list: your mindset! Remember, I’ve given you the tools to get to the ball, but the rest is up to you. Put your best foot forward, stay true to yourselves, and don't fret if you don't find true love tonight. Sometimes destiny has a completely different timeline in store for us. Just remember—you only have until midnight! Alright, driver, let 'er rip!" I waved to the coachman, and the footmen snapped the reins. As the pegasi took to the sky, I gave my wand one last wave to lighten the carriage's load and keep it steady. I should probably drop a line to Viteria, I mused. We'll need to dispatch an extraction team to Danosol later, otherwise those girls will be completely stranded. I just hoped I wasn't too late in thinking about it. I watched the carriage dwindle into the clouds, took a deep, centering breath, and smiled. My final assignment of the season was a resounding success. Now, all that stood between me and my vacation was a quick chat with management. Slipping back under my invisibility glamour, I flew back to HQ. The office was buzzing; fairies were lounging at their desks, reviewing new client profiles. It was only ten in the evening, meaning they still had plenty of time to get a few more girls ready for their big night. "I am officially done for the season!" I announced, flopping happily into my desk chair next to Viteria. "Congratulations on crossing the finish line," she smiled, not breaking gaze from her paperwork. "No snags out there?" "Well, I had to redirect them to Danosol since all three sisters had their hearts set on a prince. Could we arrange for someone to fly out after midnight and fetch them?" "Consider it done. I'll pass the coordinates along to the higher-ups," Viteria said, tapping a crystal atop a wooden stand with her wand. The crystal flared to life as she dictated the update: "Retrieval request for Cinderellas 15609, 15608, and 15607 from the royal palace of Danosol post-midnight." The crystal dimmed, and my colleague went straight back to her tasks. I spun around in my chair for a minute, giving my wings a well-deserved rest, before pulling up my annual report forms. It had been a whirlwind of a day, and I hadn't even logged a single client yet. I had barely touched the files when the office door flew open with a resounding bang, and our department head stormed in. She was a slender, sharp-featured fairy of a certain age, rocking a bright red blouse, a black pencil skirt, snow-white curls, and round spectacles, all complemented by sheer golden wings. A surprise visit from Madame Roudre never meant good news; she was notoriously strict with the staff. She locked eyes with me and materialized in front of my desk in a heartbeat. "I take it you're here to personally wish me a wonderful end to the season?" I offered, managing a tight, strained smile. "Why has nobody from the Tanridog district showed up to the ball?!" she hissed, leaning in close. "You were assigned three girls for that sector!" "Viteria actually just sent over an update a few minutes ago. They're currently in Danosol." "Which is exactly why I am standing here!" Madame Roudre barked. "They were supposed to stay in Tanridog. Because of your little freestyle improvisation, our entire scheduling grid is out of whack!" She pressed a hand to her forehead in theatrical exasperation. "But Madame," I frowned, defense mechanism kicking in. "The assignment is fully covered. All of my Cinderellas' wishes were successfully granted." "Oh, is that so?" Madame Roudre gave a dry snort, her tone dropping to a sharp whisper. "You think you know everything, don't you?" "I was just doing my job. What's the issue here?" I countered, my frustration bubbling up. "The issue is that you bypassed standard procedure. Had you stuck to the playbook, we wouldn't have to scramble or pull extra field agents to fix your mess. Since you decided to take the initiative, you get to handle the fallout—meaning you get to clean up this glittery mess yourself," she stated, crossing her arms firmly. "With all due respect, that's incredibly unfair," I grumbled. I was already mentally on a beach somewhere. "Your vacation doesn't start until tomorrow, which means you are still on the clock," Madame Roudre snapped. She let out a weary sigh and used her magic to summon an empty chair to our desk. "We received a highly unusual request yesterday. Read this." She pulled a parchment envelope from her skirt pocket and slid it over to me. I unfolded the letter. 'I wish to find true love at the final ball of the season.' "Okay, what's so strange about this?" "Look at the sender. It's a man. Specifically, Prince Tanridog himself. My plan was to match him with one of your three Cinderellas, which would have solved everything perfectly." "Wait, since when does the agency grant wishes for men?" I asked, scanning the text again. "The Fairy Codex never specifies that our services are exclusive to women; it states we help anyone in need. Therefore, we are obligated to assist him." "And you want me to handle this? How am I supposed to help a prince? It's not like I can dress him up in silk and glass slippers!" "We don't have a protocol for this type of scenario, which is why I'm doubling up your caseload. To grant the prince's wish, you'll need to take on a 'Stray Request'." "A Stray Request?" I repeated. "You mean a client who was already assigned a fairy, but the miracle went sideways?" "Exactly. You haven't worked with one before, have you? Right, your record is flawless," Madame Roudre sighed. "A Stray Request is a client whose fairy failed to deliver. Sometimes things just don't go according to plan. Carriages roll off cliffs, enchanted drivers lose their way, gowns fall apart mid-dance or break out in swamp stains. Every single failure leaves a massive dent in our department's reputation, which means we have to spend years doing damage control. Here," she handed over a folded piece of paper. I unfolded it. It was a profile for a Stray Request: Syrella Pexwood, daughter of a local farmer, twenty-three years old. Previous ball attempt: Ruined due to fairy's failure to manifest proper attire. "Is that even possible?" I muttered. "How do you mess up a dress?" "She is an incredibly challenging client with a track record of complications, and that dress was just the tip of the iceberg. You’ll see what I mean when you meet her," our boss said evasively. "Since she’s your Stray Request, you will accompany her to the ball and ensure she connects with the prince." "But midnight is less than two hours away!" "According to our metrics, you are the fastest fairy on staff, which is why I’m giving this to you. Pull this off, and there’s a massive bonus in it for you." "And if I don't?" "Then your vacation is canceled, and you'll spend the next two weeks leading a remedial seminar on self-development and time management for chronically underperforming field agents. Best of luck!" With a cheerful, entirely hollow smile, Madame Roudre swept out of the room. "Unbelievable," I muttered, aggressively packing my bag. You can't just hold someone's vacation hostage like that! I grabbed a fresh batch of mice, memorized the address, and took off under a flurry of reassuring words from Viteria. Luckily, Syrella also lived in Tanridog. With time working against me, I flew at absolute top speed, my wing muscles screaming by the end of the trip. The girl lived out in the countryside in a modest, one-story cottage. However, her family's property was massive—acres of pastures, stables, barns, and a paddock. The lights in the house were completely out. I spent about two minutes knocking on the door with zero response. Just as I started peeking through the windows, a bright, cheerful female voice called out from behind me: "Looking for someone?" I spun around and let out a massive sigh of relief. It was Syrella, evidently returning from an evening walk. She carried a basket of fresh wildflowers in one hand and a small oil lamp in the other. In person, she was even prettier than her file photo—a sweet face, framed by a gorgeous mane of naturally curly, golden-wheat hair. When she smiled, two adorable dimples popped up on her cheeks, making her look like an absolute angel. How could an assignment with such a sweetheart go wrong? "Syrella, you're exactly who I'm looking for," I said, speaking at a mile a minute. "We are on an incredibly tight schedule. I am here to get you to the ball. I know your previous experience with our agency didn't exactly pan out, but I am personally taking over your case and accompanying you to the palace. I don't normally make guarantees, but tonight, I promise you are going to completely charm the prince." "The ball? Really? Oh my goodness, I can't believe it!" she cried, tossing her basket and lamp aside to pull me into a massive hug. "I never thought I'd get another shot at a royal ball! You know, my last fairy wasn't actually bad; it was a ton of fun! It's just... well, I have a tendency to babble when I'm nervous, and things get a bit clumsy, and then unexpected situations happen... And since a royal ball is such a massive deal, I get even more anxious, which makes the babbling worse, and then I lose my filter and don't know when to stop talking, and then—" "We really need to move," I interrupted her train of thought, gently steering my Stray Request away. As I did, my foot caught the discarded basket, sending a stray spark from the lamp straight into the dry wildflowers. The basket instantly burst into flames. "Oh my gosh, fire! Fire!" Syrella shrieked, turning pale as a sheet and collapsing on the spot. At the absolute last second, I flicked my magical conduit to catch her before she hit the ground, preventing her gorgeous hair from going up in smoke. Right. Now the file notes about her being 'challenging' make perfect sense. I need to keep my guard up with this one. With a quick burst of magic, I snuffed out the fire and gave her cheeks a few light taps to rouse her. "Are you alright? Take a breath," I said urgently. "Time is ticking. I need you to focus on your absolute happiest memory. Can you do that?" "When the last fairy asked me that, it ended terribly," Syrella whimpered, her bottom lip trembling. "Are you sure about this? Maybe I should think about something sad instead? Or just keep my mind completely blank? What if my happy memory isn't good enough?" "Hush! Just trust me and focus on the best moment of your life," I commanded. "Ready? Don't say a word, just nod." Syrella nodded and looked up at the sky, deep in thought. Alright, time to cast. I concentrated and waved my wand, spinning her into a vortex of magical sparks. But the result was... baffling. A fairy's casting only fails about ten percent of the time, usually resetting perfectly on the second try, but this was a total disaster. She was standing there in a ridiculously short white dress completely covered in dark brown splotches. I desperately hoped it was just mud from the garden, but the distinct, pungent aroma told a very different story. "What on earth were you thinking about?!" I gasped, completely thrown off balance. "No, wait, don't answer that!" I waved my hands frantically as she opened her mouth. But there was no stopping her. "My absolute favorite childhood memory!" she piped up cheerfully. "I was little, and the geese chased me into the stables, and we started playing tag! It was literally the best day ever! Granted, I did get a little messy during the game..." "Spare me the details," I groaned. "You were right. Let's try a different memory." "But that was my best one!" "Let's just try something else. You can't exactly show up to a royal palace looking like a stablehand." "The last fairy said the exact same thing, and I ended up missing the whole event," Syrella sighed, pouting. Finally, she closed her eyes, squeezing them shut. "Alright, give it a whirl." I took a deep breath, fully investing my faith into my wand's output. As the sparkling cloud dissipated, I was met with another catastrophic wardrobe malfunction. Syrella was completely covered from head to toe in thick, pink sheep's wool; only her eyes and mouth were visible through the fluffy mass. "Don't say a word," I cut her off immediately. "We're trying one more time. Since your happy memories are a lost cause, let’s actually try a sad one." "Are you sure?" "Just trust me," I said, rolling my eyes inwardly. She's right, I really shouldn't be letting her moods dictate the magic, I'm the professional here. "Go ahead, focus." The girl closed her eyes. This time, I completely bypassed the memory-matching protocol and designed the dress manually. If a field agent hits a third-strike failure with a client's memories, she is legally permitted to take creative control over the ensemble. The downside was that the dress would require an explicit extraction after the ball, as it wouldn't dissolve on its own. Waving my wand, I visualized an elegant, sweeping gown in a brilliant azure shade, featuring a shimmering bodice and delicate diamond dust along the skirt. Real fabric flowers and butterflies adorned the waistline, while a structured corset framed her figure. The gown materialized beautifully in the air before draping over her, and I quickly conjured a matching pair of glass slippers next to her feet. "Oh, it's gorgeous!" Syrella gasped. "Can I put it on now?" "Absolutely. Let me help you with the corset. Strip down, let's go." "Right here?!" she squeaked, wrapping her arms around her shoulders. "What if someone sees me?" "If anyone shows up, I’ll turn them into a toad. Move it." While she was changing, I did a quick lap around the house to look for a vehicle. Out back, I hit the jackpot—a potato patch. Perfect. The resulting carriage wasn't your standard round model; it turned out oval-shaped, with HTML elements of design, six wheels and a vibrant yellow-orange finish. A quick dash of glitter and detailing transformed the odd vehicle into a luxury coach. Then I retrieved a couple of grey mice from my bag, turned them into horses, and parked the carriage by the front gate. By the time I finished the logistics, Syrella was dressed, but she had suddenly bolted back into the house. I didn't bother stopping her. Since no nosy stepmothers or neighbors were around, I took to the air to scan the area for a driver. Out in a distant pasture, I spotted a flock of sheep. That'll do. I hovered two random sheep into the air, flew them back to the gate, and transformed them into a pair of pleasantly plump, curly-haired coachmen. The moment I wrapped up, Syrella came dashing out of the house holding a woven basket, jumping straight into the carriage without waiting for an invitation. I hopped in after her. Naturally, I wasn't attending the ball as a guest, so I simply cast a glamour of invisibility over myself. The carriage doors clicked shut, the drivers snapped the reins, and we took off toward the royal palace. We had exactly five minutes to debrief. "What's in the basket?" I asked. "Pies," she blushed. "I wanted to bring a treat for the prince." "Lovely thought, but the palace guards are never going to let you through security with outside food." "I can just hide them under my skirt! There are so many layers of petticoats, they'll fit easily," she giggled, reaching into the basket. "Are you out of your mind?!" I groaned. "Imagine twirling with the prince and having meat pies come flying out from under your gown!" "True..." she frowned, pouting like a toddler. "Guess I'll just eat them right now." She pulled out a pie that was practically glistening with grease, her fingers instantly getting covered in sheen. "Please, don't," I sighed in resignation, using my magic to vanish the pie and the basket into thin air. "Listen, tonight is incredibly important. Try your absolute best not to eat or drink anything until midnight." "Am I supposed to just starve?!" she huffed. "You know, you're not a very nice fairy. I heard other fairies grant any wish, and that they're all sweet and gentle. You're way too strict. I can't even eat a pie!" "I am your assigned agent, not your fairy godmother," I shot back, handing her a handkerchief. "Clean your hands. If you ruin that dress, I can fix it with magic, but let's try to keep things presentable." "Fine," she grumbled, aggressively wiping her fingers. While she brooded, we cleared the palace gates. As we approached the grand entrance, I laid out the strategy: "Listen to me carefully. The magic holds until midnight, so you need to make your exit before then. To catch the prince's attention, we are going with a classic playbook: when you run down the grand staircase, you are going to intentionally drop one of your glass slippers. The prince will find it, think of nothing but you, and search the entire kingdom to track you down. It works every single time." "Why do I have to run away at all?" she mumbled with her mouth full—she had somehow managed to smuggle a loose pastry in her pocket. "To create an air of mystery, and to give the prince a reason to chase you. If we had more time, you could just sit and have a lovely chat, but we are working with a tight window here." "Fine. How do I know when it's midnight?" "The palace clock tower will start tolling," I said, surprised she even had to ask. "And what if I miss the bells? What if I'm looking at a clock—like that massive tower over the gates where we just parked—how do I know it's midnight?" "Are you joking? The number twelve is at the very top of the dial. When both hands meet there, it's midnight." "Thanks for clearing that up." "How do you normally keep track of time?" I asked, raising an eyebrow. "I just wake up when the roosters crow and go to sleep when it gets dark. It's pretty straightforward." Our conversation was cut short as the carriage pulled up to the steps, and the footman opened the door. I instantly renewed my invisibility glamour, while Syrella let out a nervous gasp: "Oh no, please don't leave me! I can't do this alone! I need help!" Her bottom lip started quivering again as she looked around frantically. "I'm right here, I'm just invisible," I whispered, waving my wand over her to soothe her nerves. "Go on, get in there." "Don't leave my side, promise?" "I won't. Let's go." I don't actually have a guest pass for this event, I reminded myself as I followed her up the steps. But a quick spell will smooth things over. We scaled the massive staircase—easily two hundred steps—and approached the main entrance, where an elderly master of ceremonies was greeting arrivals. "Good evening. Your invitations, ladies?" he requested politely, extending a hand. "Invitations? Can't you just manifest them with magic?" Syrella asked innocently, turning back toward my general direction. "Manifest them?!" The gentleman's eyes widened in sheer confusion. "Excuse me?" "She's just joking," I whispered, rustling through my bag to slide gold-leaf envelopes into his hand. "Invitations are right here." "Ah, splendid. Welcome to the ball," he smiled, ushering her inside. "Enjoy the evening, the dancing is about to begin." "Right this way," I whispered, guiding her toward the ballroom. "And remember, nobody can know I'm here. Keep your eyes forward." "Got it, sorry," she murmured under her breath. "So, how do I find the prince? What do I do once I'm in there?" We paused at the threshold of the magnificent, glittering hall. "We play it by ear," I whispered, giving her a gentle nudge forward. The timing was impeccable. The orchestra had just finished a piece, and a hush fell over the room as a dashing young man in a pristine white suit casually strolled across the floor. He had striking brown hair and sharp features; he looked every bit the royal heir. His eyes locked onto Syrella, and without a moment's hesitation, he marched straight toward her. Honestly, she looked radiant in that azure gown, and my magic was working beautifully. Syrella flashed him a massive smile, her cheeks flushing with a natural, nervous blush. The prince offered a flawless bow and extended his hand. Wow, it's actually happening, I thought, watching from the sidelines. True love at first sight. The surrounding guests started whispering; some looked envious, while others watched with bated breath. It was clear as day—the prince was completely smitten. I quietly backed away toward the perimeter of the room, blending into the crowd to keep an eye on them. From my vantage point, I could closely observe the couple. The man was a head taller than Syrella, moving with effortless grace on the dance floor. He smiled warmly, entirely charmed by her chatter, occasionally helping her steady herself whenever she caught her hem on her glass slippers. "They look absolutely wonderful together," I murmured with a sigh of relief. "It's certainly charming that the prince allowed the Elven Ambassador to open the dancing," a beautiful woman standing next to me snorted, checking her fan. "Though it's a bit scandalous to break tradition like that." "Wait, what?" I blinked, turning to her. "He's not the prince?" I pointed directly at Syrella's dance partner. How on earth did I miss those slightly pointed ears?! "Of course not," she laughed, giving me a strange look. "Have you never seen the heir to the throne?" "Apparently not," I muttered, dread pooling in my stomach as I scanned the room. "Where is he?" Instead of answering, she pointed her fan toward a grand balcony at the far end of the hall. Up there, seated next to the king and queen, was the actual prince. He wore a brilliant, snowy suit, had chestnut hair, and possessed incredibly sharp, regal features. And to my absolute horror, he wasn't looking at the ballroom—he was looking directly at me, his gaze fixed intently on the exact spot where I was standing. Can he... see through my invisibility glamour?! My heart skipped a beat. I quickly turned away, pretending to be deeply invested in Syrella’s dance. This is a disaster. I need to get her away from the ambassador and over to the prince, but they look entirely content on the dance floor! I waited impatiently for the music to stop. The final notes faded, the crowd applauded, and the real prince started making his way down from the balcony. Syrella and the ambassador stepped toward the edge of the floor to make room for other guests, chatting amiably. I decided it was time to intervene. Approaching a group of nearby ladies, I casually asked for the ambassador's name, then marched straight up to him. "Lord Derbolt," I whispered, generating a small localized acoustic glamour so only he could hear me. "You are urgently needed at the main entrance. There seems to be an issue with your diplomatic delegation. Security is requesting your immediate presence." "Oh, what a nuisance," he sighed. "Syrella, please excuse me for just a moment. I'll be right back." He offered a polite bow, kissed her hand, and hurried out of the hall. The moment the elf disappeared, I grabbed Syrella by the arm. "Change of plans. That was the ambassador. The real prince is right over there," I winter-whispered, nodding toward the chestnut-haired royal approaching us. "Go, make your move." "Wait, Derbolt isn't the prince?" she blinked in utter confusion. "But I can't just ditch him, I promised I'd wait for him!" "You can mingle while you wait! Go on!" I gave her a firm push toward the prince. Unfortunately, I entirely miscalculated my own strength, and Syrella went flying straight into the prince's chest. The royal heir caught her deftly by the elbow, steadying her, then looked right over her head—straight at me. Oh, fantastic. He definitely saw me push her. "Oh, my goodness, I am so incredibly clumsy, please forgive me!" Syrella gasped, blushing furiously. "Think nothing of it," the prince replied smoothly, his intelligent green eyes narrowing as he maintained his gaze on me. "You danced beautifully earlier. Would you care to join me for the next piece?" "Actually, I'm a bit peckish, if you'll excuse me," Syrella blurted out, completely tanking the romantic tension. I had to suppress a powerful urge to facepalm. "In that case, let's head over to the banquet tables," the prince smiled charmingly, offering his arm. "You can tell me all about yourself on the way." "I'd love to! I can start from when I was a little girl!" she chirped enthusiastically. "I would be delighted to listen. And what about your... companion? Will she be joining us?" The prince cast a pointed, highly amused look directly at my invisible silhouette. Syrella blinked, unsure of how to respond, and looked back at me. "Please excuse me, Your Highness, I have urgent matters to attend to," I said, executing a polite curtsy and taking two steps back into the crowd, desperately trying to fade into the background. I am definitely not playing third wheel to my own assignment. I kept a safe distance, tracking them into the adjoining banquet hall. The room was spectacular, lined with towers of crystal glasses and silver platters of pastries under the soft glow of enchanted candles. Syrella was chatty as ever, completely ignoring my advice as she began sampling the eclairs. The prince listened politely, nodding along, though he spent a significant amount of time scanning the room—specifically looking for me. Every time our eyes met, my stomach did a little flip. What is his deal? I frowned, hiding behind a pyramid of champagne flutes. He needs to focus on the client, not the fairy. Before I could devise a way to redirect his attention, Syrella reached for another pastry, her hand passing right through the enchanted serving tray. The illusion had failed. "The food! It's invisible! Prince, look!" she yelled at the top of her lungs, alerting the entire room. I smacked my forehead. Alright, don't panic. We can fix this. "It's just a harmless prank, pay it no mind," the prince said quickly, giving the room a reassuring look before guiding her away to a table of real finger foods. He managed to keep her engaged, listening to another elaborate story about her childhood geese, though it was clear he was running out of steam. Suddenly, the massive palace clock began to toll. Midnight! "Oh, is it midnight already?" Syrella gasped, freezing in place. "Yes, it's time to run!" I whispered urgently, materializing next to her under the cover of a shadow. True to her nature, Syrella didn't just run; she practically bolted, sprinting out of the hall and down the grand staircase. The prince, entirely bewildered, chased after her. Remembering the playbook at the absolute last second, Syrella kicked off one of her glass slippers near the middle of the staircase, but instead of leaving it behind, she suddenly changed her mind, scooped it back up, and kept running down the steps barefoot like a sprinter clearing hurdles. "Are you serious?!" I hissed, flying right behind her. "I am not leaving a perfectly good shoe behind!" she yelled back over her shoulder. We burst out into the courtyard just as the final toll of midnight faded. And right on cue, the magic unraveled. The oval carriage dissolved into a plain potato, the horses turned back into mice, and her stunning azure gown reverted into the pink, fluffy sheep's wool outfit from earlier. The prince skidded to a halt at the top of the stairs, taking in the scene. Lord Derbolt, who had just managed to sort out his fake security issue, came running out right behind him. "What in the world..?" the elf blinked, staring at Syrella. "Is that... a fairy?" "No, I'm the fairy," I sighed, dropping my invisibility glamour completely as I stepped out from the shadows. My pale blue wings unfurled behind me. My vacation is officially ruined anyway, so why bother hiding? The prince slowly walked down the stairs, a knowing smile playing on his lips. "So, I was right," he murmured, looking at me. "You're a fairy." "Yes," I nodded in a gesture of defeat. "And I suppose you're going to file a formal complaint with management about the wardrobe malfunction?" "Why would I do that?" the prince asked, entirely unbothered. "Your magic brought exactly who I was looking for to this ball." He turned to Lord Derbolt, who was already wrapping his coat around a shivering, wool-covered Syrella. The elf looked completely enchanted. "It seems the Ambassador has found his true match," the prince smiled, turning back to me. "Which leaves me with a fulfilled wish as well." "Your wish?" I blinked. "I didn't write that letter to find a princess," he said softly, stepping closer. "I wrote it because I wanted to meet a fairy. I’ve always believed in magic, but I never expected to find someone so dedicated, sharp, and utterly fascinating. I wasn't looking for a Cinderella tonight. I was looking for you."

Epilogue My vacation did not go according to plan. Instead of sleeping in and eating pastries for a week, I ended up traveling the world with a prince—and his very fast personal dragon. It turns out, spending a month getting to know someone away from the chaos of royal balls is a fantastic way to fall in love. When the month ended and I finally returned to the agency, Madame Roudre gave me a massive lecture about missing my paperwork deadline. But honestly, I didn't care. I handed in my formal resignation with a massive smile on my face. Daren—the prince—assured me I never have to work another day in my life, but a fairy's soul can't just abandon those in need. So, I started my own independent agency. We specialize in wedding planning and matchmaking, ensuring every single couple gets their perfect happily ever after. Oh, and as for Syrella and Lord Derbolt? They got married last week. And yes, I proudly played the role of the maid of honor. The End