That ballroom adorned with pastel hues could have come from a dream of floral meadows.
The ballroom had waited eons it seemed, for a real heart to beat a new rhythm into the matter that made it.
The ballroom had been cold for centuries, until true love entered and the torches lit as if by divine hand.
Cinderella was born in that ballroom, for it was the moment she realised that she was worth more than ashes and sacrifice, that she was as worth of happiness as any other.
It was the ballroom that called for Cinderella, to feel the presence of a heart with such a strong soul-connection.
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