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And the prince, struck by her beauty, her words, and her glamour, fell unconditionally, irrevocably, undeniably in love with her.

The king and queen took no persuading when the prince told them of his plan to marry his beloved butterfly.

“What a trophy she will be by your side!” the king did say. “Let you be married by the end of the day.”

And so they were married, with much ado, fanfare, and singsong. And the prince was happy within the wings of his beguiling butterfly.

But as the years wore on, the butterfly grew restless, for she longed to be queen and to sit upon the royal throne and be admired by the court.

But the king was as strong as his word, his health in its prime, much to everyone’s delight, not least his only son, who had no desire to sit upon the throne before his time.

So, when the butterfly could wait no longer, she thrust a knife into the prince’s hand and whispered words of murder and treachery and what would happen if the prince did not obey her command.

But the prince did not bend or bow, but simply dropped the blade and banished his butterfly from the kingdom forever.

Furious, the butterfly cursed the prince.

“You are not the prince, the one I did dream.” She scowled. “You will not grant me the title of queen. And now we will live worlds apart, but not before I freeze your heart.”

The prince shuddered, clutching his chest as she flew from the room, her dark wings flapping to the beat of her laughter.

From that day on, the kingdom lived under a greyness that draped itself over all the people, crept under doors, lingered in alleyways, and wound its way around buildings.

But within the castle walls, there lived a mouse, a whiskery, nose-twitching mouse who had watched as the prince had been bewitched. And the mouse had felt the cold as soon as the prince’s heart had been frozen and couldn’t stand to watch him suffer.

“My prince,” she said one early morning. “I hate to see you full of scorn.

You were such a happy man,

Love and joy in the words you sang.

Yet now your heart is cold as ice,

Your words sting and growl and bite.

I want to hear you sing again,

To lift this curse from where it came.

For you to feel the burning heat

To melt your heart and let it beat.”

“But how?” the prince asked wearily.

And the mouse replied,

“The only way for the heart to melt,

Is when love’s first kiss is truly felt.”

The prince appeared to smile at this.

“I’ve loved before. I’ll love again, if not for me, then for my kingdom,

To lift the curse, the gloom and dark,

And not just for my frozen heart.”