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Description
PLEASE READ THE DESCRIPTION BEFORE READING THIS STORYBIT!

It was almost as if that dreadful winter had never happened, judging by the warm weather and the overflowing plant life all over the kingdom. Mickey still didn't really understand the connection to the kingdom's well-being, the princess, and Uncle Scrooge's magic, but he was happy in his ignorance, as he was only a small child. Even now, as he and the family he had been adopted into approached the gigantic pale castle, he didn't bother asking just why Scrooge needed these daily visits nor why when he returned he always looked thoroughly exhausted. What mattered most in those visits was the rare glance at the castle over the massive walls, and then playing with his 'siblings' as they waited for Scrooge to come back out. Today's game was relatively simple, kicking a small red ball back and forth between the three.

Donald and Mickey were having a small contest to determine who could kick it furthest and hardest, with Della sitting on a rock and being the audience. However, unlike Mickey, it seemed she had a greater curiosity. "What do you think Uncle Scrooge does in there?"

Her twin brother paused in mid-kick, looking over at her. "Magic stuff, duh." He felt he was the smartest of the trio, even though he was only slightly less clueless than them. "He's the royal court mage. He's gotta do… whatever royal court mages do."

"But he always comes out so tired." Della lamented, hugging her knees close to her chest. "I wish his job was easier."

Donald took a glance at Mickey, who hadn't really been paying attention, and then back to his sister, before lowering his voice in a whisper. "I heard him talking to mom and dad last night. This is all because of the princess." Now both mouse and duck were leaning in, attention fully caught. Swelling with pride at being looked at, Donald spoke rapidly. "You guys don't remember Uncle Scrooge's lessons? The girls of the royal family are ones who make the kingdom peaceful and keep the magic in check. So when the queen died all of a sudden, the princess is the one who has to take over those responsibilities."

"Must be hard." Della whispered, her voice full of pity. "I don't know what I'd do without mommy and…" Her eyes cautiously looked to Mickey as she realized what she was speaking of could be taboo.

He had lost his parents during the awful winter, but in response to the duck's sudden silence, he just smiled. "Aw, don't worry about it… hey, I bet I can go really far!" Eager to change the subject, he suddenly speed towards the ball, and kicked it as hard as his foot could muster. To his fortune, the ball sailed high, high, and even higher… and then, to his horror, went right over the walls. They didn't hear it land, but the gravity of the situation was instantly upon them.

"You dummy!" Donald roared, grabbing Mickey by his clothes and shaking him, classic temper emerging. "Look what you did! And you know Uncle Scrooge won't buy us a new one! Why, I oughta…"

Mickey had gotten used to these tantrums, and easily shoved Donald back. "Then I'll just go get it back."

Della slid off of the rock, walking up to Mickey. "But, Mickey, we're not allowed to go in there! You'll get in such big trouble!" Donald smiled at the very idea, but Mickey shrugged it off.

"Then I'll just grab it and come back before I get caught." Not listening to reason, he already began to run, going among the large trees that grew beside the protective walls on both sides. The branches hung over the other side, and so Mickey had already formed a plan. Climb the tree to the other side, drop down, grab the ball, then climb up a different tree on the inside, and hop back out. With that in mind, he began to climb, ignoring Della's pleas and Donald's insults. Though there was some pettiness in him thanks to Donald's know-it-all attitude, Mickey's young logic was very straight forward, seeing no real reason to be afraid of this journey. Fear never came easily to this boy.

Though it took about three tries, the mouse managed to successfully climb the tree he had chosen, and made his way over the walls. He chose what looked like a particularly strong branch, and walked steadily across it, before jumping to another, then another, then another…

… Until an unexpected SNAP of wood send him crashing down onto the ground. Fortunately, the fall was short enough so that he only suffered minor scratches, with the biggest wound being to his pride. He had managed to land in a patch of yellow flowers he had never seen before, and as he sat up, he realized that this section of the castle must have been a garden. All around him were different patches of color in different shapes and smells, along with small statues and fountains depicting famous past battles. But none of this mattered to him. Brushing himself off as he stood, he began to walk among the blades of grass and petals, trying to find that certain shade of red.

After a few good minutes of frustrated searching, he located the toy lying beside one of the statues, this one depicting a beautiful woman in the middle of a dance. Ignoring the art, he walked towards the ball, but just as he bent over to pick it up, a sound hit his ears. He paused, trying to identify just what it was, and it easily clicked together in his mind – the sound of sobs. Being the sweet sort of boy who could not stand to hear such a noise, he put his own goals aside to try and find where the crying was coming from. It did not take long, for up ahead was a small wooden bridge created over a quiet stream. There on the bridge was a shuddering lump of white, sobbing its eyes out.

Choosing not to touch the ball for now, Mickey began to inch over towards the bridge to get a better look at the crier. He could soon see that this was a little girl, perhaps around Della's age, but a mouse like himself. Her fur was white as the snow that had only recently devastated the kingdom, though the snow did not have a cute pink nose sticking out of it. This girl was dressed in colors of pink and blue, with a tiny pale tiara gracing the top of her head. She was sitting on her knees, rubbing her face with balled up fists, as if trying to stop herself from crying but was unable to do so. The boy noted to himself that whoever this was would have been a lot prettier, if they weren't crying.

However, in advancement, he hadn't been paying attention to the path he was walking, and found himself tripping over a particularly stubborn knot of weeds. Yelping when his body hit the ground again, the girl jerked in surprise, staring right at him with puffy eyes. Mickey, now covered in extra dirt and scratches, slowly rose to his feet, embarrassed. The way the girl stared at him was very strange, like he was a rare creature she'd never known existed before. He didn't mind, if it got her to stop crying. He might as well greet her, while he was at it. "Hiya."

The girl said nothing, still baffled at his appearance. She swallowed hard, and then meekly replied. "…Hello. Who are you?"

"I'm Mickey Mouse." Like his smile, his voice was full of brightness, always glad to make a new friend. He pointed behind him. "I came here to get my ball, cause I kicked it over the wall. I'm the best kicker in the whole kingdom." It had to be said; his little ego demanded it. "But then I heard ya cryin', so I came over."

That fact made the girl's shoulders lower, and a look of shame spread on her face. "I'm… I'm… I'm not supposed to cry." She whimpered as she revealed this, but Mickey thought that such a statement was ridiculous. Why wouldn't someone be allowed to cry? As he walked towards and onto the bridge, she hiccupped, ready to have her tears flow all over again. "If I get sad, the kingdom gets hurt… but I can't stop feeling sad…"

Now at her side, Mickey could see she was still very pretty even if she did start crying again. "How come?"

She shut her eyes as tightly as she could. "I… miss my mommy… and daddy's always so angry at me… a-and everyone says I can't be sad, because then everyone will be sad, a-and everyone is mad at me, and no one loves me anymore!" With that final burst of confessions, she began to loudly sob again, burying her face in her hands.

Mickey scratched his head, watching the girl cry. He wanted to stop the crying since he first heard it, but to be honest, he didn't know how. This kind of sadness was very different from whenever Della cut her knee or when a woman in town lost her purse. He tried to think of times whenever such a cry could be cured, and one memory in particular stood out to him, though faint. Before the killing winter had started, he remembered seeing his mother collapse into a chair, sobbing profusely, though the boy could not tell what over. Then his father had come home, and as if having anticipated this was what he would be coming home to, was carrying a large bouquet of fresh flowers. Mother had taken them in joy, and father had held her tenderly to his chest, telling mother that he loved her.

If it worked there, why not here? Mickey ran to the end of the bridge, and grabbed the first flower he saw, one of a blue hue, and yanked it hard enough that he also wound up bringing up its roots. Just as quick, he was at her side again, thrusting the dead plant to her face. "Here ya go!"

The girl almost cried out in surprise before she understood what he'd done. She looked at it, then him, and then slowly took it into her hands, mumbling. "Thank you."

But Mickey felt this was not enough, and used his dirty hands to try and wipe away her tears. "Yanno, I think that's real silly, what 'everyone' is sayin'… I bet if they lost their mommies, they'd be sad too. I was, when I lost my mommy and daddy." Seeing that he was smearing her face with dirt, he pulled his hands back. "Sometimes I would just lay in my bed, and cry, and cry, and cry. I had to let all that sad get out so I could be happy again… and I did get happy again." He clapped his hands, trying to get rid of some of the dirt. "Cause Uncle Scrooge let me stay with him and his family. So I got a whole new family."

The name of the uncle appeared to register in the girl's eyes as they widened. "Scrooge McDuck? You're in his family?" When Mickey nodded, she asked another question. "So… so you're a knight?"

He grinned, pumping a fist to his chest. "Not yet, but I'm gunna be, when I grow up! Uncle Scrooge told me so! I'm gunna protect Donald and Della and everybody, and I'll make sure no one has to cry anymore." The girl was somewhat calmer now, though still seemed to carry a sad tone within her, so Mickey decided to go even further. "And… I'll make sure ya don't ever cry again either. If no one else loves ya… then I'll love ya."

Now to Mickey, 'love' was just another word for 'like', for 'I enjoy your company', and was entirely oblivious to the weight it carried between two people. The girl, despite her age, appeared to know the 'other' meaning to love, and her cheeks blushed a red shade darker than the ball. One hand to her mouth in shock, she stammered a denial. "Y-You… You mean it?"

He nodded again, not sure why the girl was having such a strange reaction to what he thought was a normal proclamation. "Sure. Why, I'll make a promise, and knights aren't allowed to break promises, yanno." He crossed his arms, feeling like a real adult. "I, Sir Mickey, promise to love ya forever and ever and ever. And I'll make up for all the love no one else is givin' ya. I'll love ya the most out of the entire kingdom." Then he paused, realizing one thing was missing in his declaration. "…What's yer name, anyway?"

The girl, a little shaky due to how much that 'l' word was being used, shook her head and tried to collect herself. "Oh, um, y-yes, that… I should have introduced myself… Daddy says I need to remember to do proper introductions…" She tried to clear her throat, though a giggle or two escaped her, and she grabbed her dress, making a miniature curtsy. "I am Princess Minerva, heir to the Kingdom of Dreams, and it is a pleasure to meet your acquaintance."

Mickey blinked as one important word stood out to him – princess? As in… well, the princess? Whereas his siblings would have their jaws dropped in shock and flailed apologies of their rudeness, Mickey merely shrugged it off. So she was the princess. So what? "Nice to meet ya."

Minerva then approached him carefully, studying him. "So you mean it? You'll… l-l-love me forever?"

"Yup." Mickey began to wonder if this was just a girl thing, having such a reaction. "And ever and ever."

At long last, Minerva smiled. Despite the puffiness of her eyes and the dirt smeared on her face, it was a rather lovely smile, and Mickey told himself that he much preferred this look. He decided he'd say that love word over and over, a million times, if it meant seeing that smile. So he smiled back and her, and the two children were blissful in their ignorance.

"MICKEY MOUSE, WHERE ARE YOU?!"

The named one nearly jumped out of his own fur in fear and surprise, knowing that the irate voice belonged to Uncle Scrooge. Apparently whatever he did for the castle was already over, and if Mickey didn't come back soon, he was doomed. Panicked, Mickey turned away from the princess. "Aw, I'm in so much trouble! I gotta go!"

"W-wait!" The princess, who understood what 'love' could mean when declared by a boy to girl, wanted to ensure he kept that promise, and could only think of one way to do so. She grabbed his head, and yanked him in close, pressing her lips right into his cheek. She counted to three in her head before releasing him, and clutching the flower close to her chest. "I promise too! If you love me, then I'll love you too! More than daddy and everyone and the kingdom!"

Mickey, however, was deaf to that, his mind reeling over what physical action just occurred. That had been a kiss, and yet so different from the one's he'd gotten from his mother, from his adopted mother, and from his adopted sister. This was… he wasn't sure, but it was different, definitely. Maybe it was the power of it, or the desperation, or just the fact that it was given to him by a very pretty girl. He couldn't pinpoint it, yet it was all he could think about, one hand to that kissed cheek. It was very likely he could have stayed like that all day, thinking about what she did to him, unaware of the stupid droopy grin he was sporting, if he hadn't heard his name screamed again.

Leaving the princess behind, he sped back towards the ball, grabbed it as he ran, and raced up a new tree. As he climbed over to get back to his original spots, he got far more scratches and dirt on him, so by the time he was down on solid ground again and running to the ducks, he was more brown-furred than black. Now with his siblings stood their uncle, dressed in imperial robes and holding his angelical staff and, much like Della predicted, looking utterly exhausted. "Don't you know to come when you're called! And where have you been, you're a wreck!"

Mickey held up the toy, trying to catch his breath. "I was lookin' for our ball."

"If I've told you once, I've told you a million times, don't wander off!" He wagged a finger at the mouse, before turning away, ready to walk off. "Now come along. I need to lay down."

Once the uncle was assumed too far away to hear them talk, Donald leaned in towards Mickey. "What took you so long?"

Mickey held the ball close to him, ready to tell of his odd adventure. "I met the princess, that's what. And now we're friends."

Both ducks gaped at him in wonder, before Della squealed in and tugged at Mickey's arm. "No way! Is she really as pretty as everyone says she is?"

"Even prettier. But she was cryin', cause she misses her mom, so I told her I loved her."

Donald furrowed his brows, confused. "…Love her? Like… love her, or love LOVE her? He waved a hand, trying to differentiate the two.

Mickey cocked his head, not understanding. "What's the difference?"

"There's a big difference!" Donald almost punched Mickey's arm. "Don't you know anything? Knights can't marry royalty, so you can't love her!"

Now it was Mickey's turn to frown, having forgotten that strange rule. "…How come they can't marry?"

"They just can't." Donald looked away, not wanting to admit he actually didn't know the reasoning behind the law. "Besides, why would she wanna marry you?"

Offended slightly, the future knight held his head up high. "Cause she loves me too, she said so. And it's a stupid law. So when she grows up and becomes queen, she'll change the law. So then we'll marry. So there." He stuck his tongue out to Donald, who returned the rude gesture. He then turned to Della, anger diminished. "By the way… what's 'marry' mean?"

Della laughed a little, as Donald rolled his eyes. "It means you'll spend the rest of the life with the person you love."

The mouse mulled this over a moment, and then began tossing the ball up and down. "I can do that. Sure. Minerva and I will marry. We'll spend the rest of our life together, and love each other. That's real easy." Della laughed in merriment, while Donald gagged, giving up on trying to explain the matter any further to him.

If Uncle Scrooge had heard any of it, he didn't act upon it.

Description
PLEASE READ THE DESCRIPTION BEFORE READING THIS STORYBIT!

It was almost as if that dreadful winter had never happened, judging by the warm weather and the overflowing plant life all over the kingdom. Mickey still didn't really understand the connection to the kingdom's well-being, the princess, and Uncle Scrooge's magic, but he was happy in his ignorance, as he was only a small child. Even now, as he and the family he had been adopted into approached the gigantic pale castle, he didn't bother asking just why Scrooge needed these daily visits nor why when he returned he always looked thoroughly exhausted. What mattered most in those visits was the rare glance at the castle over the massive walls, and then playing with his 'siblings' as they waited for Scrooge to come back out. Today's game was relatively simple, kicking a small red ball back and forth between the three.

Donald and Mickey were having a small contest to determine who could kick it furthest and hardest, with Della sitting on a rock and being the audience. However, unlike Mickey, it seemed she had a greater curiosity. "What do you think Uncle Scrooge does in there?"

Her twin brother paused in mid-kick, looking over at her. "Magic stuff, duh." He felt he was the smartest of the trio, even though he was only slightly less clueless than them. "He's the royal court mage. He's gotta do… whatever royal court mages do."

"But he always comes out so tired." Della lamented, hugging her knees close to her chest. "I wish his job was easier."

Donald took a glance at Mickey, who hadn't really been paying attention, and then back to his sister, before lowering his voice in a whisper. "I heard him talking to mom and dad last night. This is all because of the princess." Now both mouse and duck were leaning in, attention fully caught. Swelling with pride at being looked at, Donald spoke rapidly. "You guys don't remember Uncle Scrooge's lessons? The girls of the royal family are ones who make the kingdom peaceful and keep the magic in check. So when the queen died all of a sudden, the princess is the one who has to take over those responsibilities."

"Must be hard." Della whispered, her voice full of pity. "I don't know what I'd do without mommy and…" Her eyes cautiously looked to Mickey as she realized what she was speaking of could be taboo.

He had lost his parents during the awful winter, but in response to the duck's sudden silence, he just smiled. "Aw, don't worry about it… hey, I bet I can go really far!" Eager to change the subject, he suddenly speed towards the ball, and kicked it as hard as his foot could muster. To his fortune, the ball sailed high, high, and even higher… and then, to his horror, went right over the walls. They didn't hear it land, but the gravity of the situation was instantly upon them.

"You dummy!" Donald roared, grabbing Mickey by his clothes and shaking him, classic temper emerging. "Look what you did! And you know Uncle Scrooge won't buy us a new one! Why, I oughta…"

Mickey had gotten used to these tantrums, and easily shoved Donald back. "Then I'll just go get it back."

Della slid off of the rock, walking up to Mickey. "But, Mickey, we're not allowed to go in there! You'll get in such big trouble!" Donald smiled at the very idea, but Mickey shrugged it off.

"Then I'll just grab it and come back before I get caught." Not listening to reason, he already began to run, going among the large trees that grew beside the protective walls on both sides. The branches hung over the other side, and so Mickey had already formed a plan. Climb the tree to the other side, drop down, grab the ball, then climb up a different tree on the inside, and hop back out. With that in mind, he began to climb, ignoring Della's pleas and Donald's insults. Though there was some pettiness in him thanks to Donald's know-it-all attitude, Mickey's young logic was very straight forward, seeing no real reason to be afraid of this journey. Fear never came easily to this boy.

Though it took about three tries, the mouse managed to successfully climb the tree he had chosen, and made his way over the walls. He chose what looked like a particularly strong branch, and walked steadily across it, before jumping to another, then another, then another…

… Until an unexpected SNAP of wood send him crashing down onto the ground. Fortunately, the fall was short enough so that he only suffered minor scratches, with the biggest wound being to his pride. He had managed to land in a patch of yellow flowers he had never seen before, and as he sat up, he realized that this section of the castle must have been a garden. All around him were different patches of color in different shapes and smells, along with small statues and fountains depicting famous past battles. But none of this mattered to him. Brushing himself off as he stood, he began to walk among the blades of grass and petals, trying to find that certain shade of red.

After a few good minutes of frustrated searching, he located the toy lying beside one of the statues, this one depicting a beautiful woman in the middle of a dance. Ignoring the art, he walked towards the ball, but just as he bent over to pick it up, a sound hit his ears. He paused, trying to identify just what it was, and it easily clicked together in his mind – the sound of sobs. Being the sweet sort of boy who could not stand to hear such a noise, he put his own goals aside to try and find where the crying was coming from. It did not take long, for up ahead was a small wooden bridge created over a quiet stream. There on the bridge was a shuddering lump of white, sobbing its eyes out.

Choosing not to touch the ball for now, Mickey began to inch over towards the bridge to get a better look at the crier. He could soon see that this was a little girl, perhaps around Della's age, but a mouse like himself. Her fur was white as the snow that had only recently devastated the kingdom, though the snow did not have a cute pink nose sticking out of it. This girl was dressed in colors of pink and blue, with a tiny pale tiara gracing the top of her head. She was sitting on her knees, rubbing her face with balled up fists, as if trying to stop herself from crying but was unable to do so. The boy noted to himself that whoever this was would have been a lot prettier, if they weren't crying.

However, in advancement, he hadn't been paying attention to the path he was walking, and found himself tripping over a particularly stubborn knot of weeds. Yelping when his body hit the ground again, the girl jerked in surprise, staring right at him with puffy eyes. Mickey, now covered in extra dirt and scratches, slowly rose to his feet, embarrassed. The way the girl stared at him was very strange, like he was a rare creature she'd never known existed before. He didn't mind, if it got her to stop crying. He might as well greet her, while he was at it. "Hiya."

The girl said nothing, still baffled at his appearance. She swallowed hard, and then meekly replied. "…Hello. Who are you?"

"I'm Mickey Mouse." Like his smile, his voice was full of brightness, always glad to make a new friend. He pointed behind him. "I came here to get my ball, cause I kicked it over the wall. I'm the best kicker in the whole kingdom." It had to be said; his little ego demanded it. "But then I heard ya cryin', so I came over."

That fact made the girl's shoulders lower, and a look of shame spread on her face. "I'm… I'm… I'm not supposed to cry." She whimpered as she revealed this, but Mickey thought that such a statement was ridiculous. Why wouldn't someone be allowed to cry? As he walked towards and onto the bridge, she hiccupped, ready to have her tears flow all over again. "If I get sad, the kingdom gets hurt… but I can't stop feeling sad…"

Now at her side, Mickey could see she was still very pretty even if she did start crying again. "How come?"

She shut her eyes as tightly as she could. "I… miss my mommy… and daddy's always so angry at me… a-and everyone says I can't be sad, because then everyone will be sad, a-and everyone is mad at me, and no one loves me anymore!" With that final burst of confessions, she began to loudly sob again, burying her face in her hands.

Mickey scratched his head, watching the girl cry. He wanted to stop the crying since he first heard it, but to be honest, he didn't know how. This kind of sadness was very different from whenever Della cut her knee or when a woman in town lost her purse. He tried to think of times whenever such a cry could be cured, and one memory in particular stood out to him, though faint. Before the killing winter had started, he remembered seeing his mother collapse into a chair, sobbing profusely, though the boy could not tell what over. Then his father had come home, and as if having anticipated this was what he would be coming home to, was carrying a large bouquet of fresh flowers. Mother had taken them in joy, and father had held her tenderly to his chest, telling mother that he loved her.

If it worked there, why not here? Mickey ran to the end of the bridge, and grabbed the first flower he saw, one of a blue hue, and yanked it hard enough that he also wound up bringing up its roots. Just as quick, he was at her side again, thrusting the dead plant to her face. "Here ya go!"

The girl almost cried out in surprise before she understood what he'd done. She looked at it, then him, and then slowly took it into her hands, mumbling. "Thank you."

But Mickey felt this was not enough, and used his dirty hands to try and wipe away her tears. "Yanno, I think that's real silly, what 'everyone' is sayin'… I bet if they lost their mommies, they'd be sad too. I was, when I lost my mommy and daddy." Seeing that he was smearing her face with dirt, he pulled his hands back. "Sometimes I would just lay in my bed, and cry, and cry, and cry. I had to let all that sad get out so I could be happy again… and I did get happy again." He clapped his hands, trying to get rid of some of the dirt. "Cause Uncle Scrooge let me stay with him and his family. So I got a whole new family."

The name of the uncle appeared to register in the girl's eyes as they widened. "Scrooge McDuck? You're in his family?" When Mickey nodded, she asked another question. "So… so you're a knight?"

He grinned, pumping a fist to his chest. "Not yet, but I'm gunna be, when I grow up! Uncle Scrooge told me so! I'm gunna protect Donald and Della and everybody, and I'll make sure no one has to cry anymore." The girl was somewhat calmer now, though still seemed to carry a sad tone within her, so Mickey decided to go even further. "And… I'll make sure ya don't ever cry again either. If no one else loves ya… then I'll love ya."

Now to Mickey, 'love' was just another word for 'like', for 'I enjoy your company', and was entirely oblivious to the weight it carried between two people. The girl, despite her age, appeared to know the 'other' meaning to love, and her cheeks blushed a red shade darker than the ball. One hand to her mouth in shock, she stammered a denial. "Y-You… You mean it?"

He nodded again, not sure why the girl was having such a strange reaction to what he thought was a normal proclamation. "Sure. Why, I'll make a promise, and knights aren't allowed to break promises, yanno." He crossed his arms, feeling like a real adult. "I, Sir Mickey, promise to love ya forever and ever and ever. And I'll make up for all the love no one else is givin' ya. I'll love ya the most out of the entire kingdom." Then he paused, realizing one thing was missing in his declaration. "…What's yer name, anyway?"

The girl, a little shaky due to how much that 'l' word was being used, shook her head and tried to collect herself. "Oh, um, y-yes, that… I should have introduced myself… Daddy says I need to remember to do proper introductions…" She tried to clear her throat, though a giggle or two escaped her, and she grabbed her dress, making a miniature curtsy. "I am Princess Minerva, heir to the Kingdom of Dreams, and it is a pleasure to meet your acquaintance."

Mickey blinked as one important word stood out to him – princess? As in… well, the princess? Whereas his siblings would have their jaws dropped in shock and flailed apologies of their rudeness, Mickey merely shrugged it off. So she was the princess. So what? "Nice to meet ya."

Minerva then approached him carefully, studying him. "So you mean it? You'll… l-l-love me forever?"

"Yup." Mickey began to wonder if this was just a girl thing, having such a reaction. "And ever and ever."

At long last, Minerva smiled. Despite the puffiness of her eyes and the dirt smeared on her face, it was a rather lovely smile, and Mickey told himself that he much preferred this look. He decided he'd say that love word over and over, a million times, if it meant seeing that smile. So he smiled back and her, and the two children were blissful in their ignorance.

"MICKEY MOUSE, WHERE ARE YOU?!"

The named one nearly jumped out of his own fur in fear and surprise, knowing that the irate voice belonged to Uncle Scrooge. Apparently whatever he did for the castle was already over, and if Mickey didn't come back soon, he was doomed. Panicked, Mickey turned away from the princess. "Aw, I'm in so much trouble! I gotta go!"

"W-wait!" The princess, who understood what 'love' could mean when declared by a boy to girl, wanted to ensure he kept that promise, and could only think of one way to do so. She grabbed his head, and yanked him in close, pressing her lips right into his cheek. She counted to three in her head before releasing him, and clutching the flower close to her chest. "I promise too! If you love me, then I'll love you too! More than daddy and everyone and the kingdom!"

Mickey, however, was deaf to that, his mind reeling over what physical action just occurred. That had been a kiss, and yet so different from the one's he'd gotten from his mother, from his adopted mother, and from his adopted sister. This was… he wasn't sure, but it was different, definitely. Maybe it was the power of it, or the desperation, or just the fact that it was given to him by a very pretty girl. He couldn't pinpoint it, yet it was all he could think about, one hand to that kissed cheek. It was very likely he could have stayed like that all day, thinking about what she did to him, unaware of the stupid droopy grin he was sporting, if he hadn't heard his name screamed again.

Leaving the princess behind, he sped back towards the ball, grabbed it as he ran, and raced up a new tree. As he climbed over to get back to his original spots, he got far more scratches and dirt on him, so by the time he was down on solid ground again and running to the ducks, he was more brown-furred than black. Now with his siblings stood their uncle, dressed in imperial robes and holding his angelical staff and, much like Della predicted, looking utterly exhausted. "Don't you know to come when you're called! And where have you been, you're a wreck!"

Mickey held up the toy, trying to catch his breath. "I was lookin' for our ball."

"If I've told you once, I've told you a million times, don't wander off!" He wagged a finger at the mouse, before turning away, ready to walk off. "Now come along. I need to lay down."

Once the uncle was assumed too far away to hear them talk, Donald leaned in towards Mickey. "What took you so long?"

Mickey held the ball close to him, ready to tell of his odd adventure. "I met the princess, that's what. And now we're friends."

Both ducks gaped at him in wonder, before Della squealed in and tugged at Mickey's arm. "No way! Is she really as pretty as everyone says she is?"

"Even prettier. But she was cryin', cause she misses her mom, so I told her I loved her."

Donald furrowed his brows, confused. "…Love her? Like… love her, or love LOVE her? He waved a hand, trying to differentiate the two.

Mickey cocked his head, not understanding. "What's the difference?"

"There's a big difference!" Donald almost punched Mickey's arm. "Don't you know anything? Knights can't marry royalty, so you can't love her!"

Now it was Mickey's turn to frown, having forgotten that strange rule. "…How come they can't marry?"

"They just can't." Donald looked away, not wanting to admit he actually didn't know the reasoning behind the law. "Besides, why would she wanna marry you?"

Offended slightly, the future knight held his head up high. "Cause she loves me too, she said so. And it's a stupid law. So when she grows up and becomes queen, she'll change the law. So then we'll marry. So there." He stuck his tongue out to Donald, who returned the rude gesture. He then turned to Della, anger diminished. "By the way… what's 'marry' mean?"

Della laughed a little, as Donald rolled his eyes. "It means you'll spend the rest of the life with the person you love."

The mouse mulled this over a moment, and then began tossing the ball up and down. "I can do that. Sure. Minerva and I will marry. We'll spend the rest of our life together, and love each other. That's real easy." Della laughed in merriment, while Donald gagged, giving up on trying to explain the matter any further to him.

If Uncle Scrooge had heard any of it, he didn't act upon it.