Once upon a time, a servant fell in love with a prince. He was handsome and clever and cruel, and she loved the way he spoke to her when they were alone. He did not court her in any traditional sense, though he promised so much with the curl of his lips and the lightness of his touch. He made her feel as if she were already the princess her promised her she would soon become.
And then he disgraced the servant, humiliating her by bragging of his deception shortly before marrying a pretty noblewoman. The servant wept. She loved him. He did not love her.
But this is a fairytale (as anything that begins with 'Once upon a time' must be), and convention dictates that this story cannot end here. It cannot end with the servant suffering a miscarriage and living out her days alone. By the same token, it cannot end with her decision to walk away herself, to have her child and be a single mother and suffer and love and find happiness. So long as she is alone, the fairytale cannot find a suitable conclusion.
No matter if that conclusion is that the prince realizes his mistake, that he has married a woman just as cruel as he is and returns to his servant's side. He still does not love her, and perhaps, after all she has been through, she does not love him, but she is a servant and he is a prince and it is safe to say that their coupling will warrant a 'happily ever after'.
No matter if the alternate conclusion is that the servant finds a kind, loving man, perhaps someone who wished for her hand the entire time, so that her bastard child might not be born out of wedlock after all. He might love her, but she does not love him, but in the end it doesn't matter because it's just another marriage and more loose ends tied up.
Maybe this isn't a fairytale after all.
If you didn't know I was an angry lady before, you certainly know it now.
Inspired by something I read a little while ago.
(Also, I might come back to dA. Maybe.)
Image comes from Google.