The princess was scared of falling in love.
So every evening when she went out to party, she opened her rib cage, took out her heart and locked it in a safebox that she kept under the sink in her bathroom. Then she put on her shortest dress and she danced all night. Cute boys fell over each other to bring her drinks and fought duels to ask for a chance to dance with her. When she got so drunk that she could not remember her own name, she picked the cutest boy from the boys (they always came where she was, like hounds on scent of prey) and took him home with her.
And every morning, she discarded the boy, who was tired, irritated and being as useless a boy as all boys are wont to be, sooner or later.
Then the princess had her breakfast, put her heart back in her rib cage and went out to do the things that princesses do. Like, eating cake, being pretty and being awesome.
Then there was the thief who had a job to do. He was a cold hearted motherfuzzer who took what was not his, from the poor or from the rich. He worked for money and his skills belonged to whoever was willing to pay the price. He asked a good price, mind you, and people like you or me could never afford his talents.
Only a Prince could hire the thief.
A prince who wanted a certain princess' heart. A prince who wanted to fall in love without the pain or the risk of heartbreak.
A prince who could afford more than you or me ever would.
So, the prince bought the thief's services for stealing the princess' heart.
But the thief had a plan of his own.
Part Two, tomorrow.
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