For the longest time the princess was miserable. She wanted the prince to be her hero, to fight for her and their future, but he was unable. He was crippled by the twin demons of guilt and obligation that the queen bee had programmed into him. He was not strong enough to fight them. Or her. He believed he had no power. The princess believed she was strong enough for both of them. She had invested in him and their relationship and she was determined to make it work. After all, it was a gift that they had been given

For a year, the princess and prince continued their relationship, and they fell deeper and deeper in love. They spent as much time together as they could, but something was niggling the princess. They only spent time at her castle. In a year, she had never spent time at his. And while the princess had met the prince’s friends (who really only consisted of the members of the band that he played in) and some of his seven brothers and sisters, she had not met the prince’s parents. She felt like she was a secret. The prince explained to the

The princess and prince still worked for the same government department, but they worked at different sites, so they did not see each other in passing, ever. But the princess knew that somehow, they would be brought together by work. A month before her 40th birthday, she was invited to the farewell party for a workmate. She accepted and had a niggling feeling that the prince would be there. And he was. She could feel his presence before he even entered the room; she had butterflies in her stomach and a surge of blood warmed her body. The prince saw

The princess wandered around in a daze for weeks after the news that the prince was attached and they couldn’t be together. She couldn’t eat. She couldn’t think. She took time off work. To say she was devastated by the news was an understatement. She was numb from pain. She couldn’t function. But she did need to understand why he hadn’t mentioned his unavailability beforehand. Why he had let things get so far before telling her he was taken. Why he had lied to her by omission. So she emailed and texted the prince to try to get some answers.

Ok. You’ve all been reading this blog long enough. You’ve heard about The Italian and you *know* he broke my heart. I owe it to you tell you how. And I think it will work quite well as a fractured fairy tale, so here goes. Once upon a time, in 2001, in a time before Twitter, Facebook and FourSquare, a beautiful princess met a handsome prince at work. Ok, she wasn’t really beautiful, but she was quite attractive. And she wasn’t really a princess either; she was an office temp. And while we are on the subject, he wasn’t a