All throughout the kingdom the prince traveled with his exotic glass slipper. This belonged, he explained at every door, to a maiden of unparalleled beauty who had danced with him at the last fortnight’s ball. He wished to wed her immediately. And every girl was eager to try on the slipper, for who’d turn down that kind of money gig? But it was rumored odd, for no one remembered the prince dancing that night. And further, the slipper was of such an awkward shape, demanding a perilous heel over a peculiar set of toes. Surely only one woman’s foot could ever had fit into it. None of the applicants needed to know she’d never existed, and that he’d only had it fashioned to enable his foot fetish. It didn’t feel too dishonest, though, since he’d damn sure marry the arch of his dreams, if he could only find her.