Chapter 1: The Facebook Fiasco

Once upon a time, in a digital kingdom, the Prince turned to his soon-to-be Princess and asked, “Why don’t you ever like my Facebook photos?”

The future Princess was taken aback. “I’m incredibly busy,” she replied. “I travel to far-off places, organize grand balls, and date potential suitors to find the perfect combination of good looks and wealth. It’s quite a challenge to find a Prince who isn’t glued to his phone or involved in some bizarre cult. Liking Facebook photos is far from my priority.”

“That’s not accurate!” the Prince retorted. “I notice you like photos from others—vacations, kids, sunsets, and new profile pictures!”

“What are you talking about?” the future Princess exclaimed. “Do you even hear yourself? You sound like a child!”

The Prince was bewildered. How could he expect a happily ever after when the future Princess wouldn’t even acknowledge his stunning pictures? Forget love; how about a simple comment? “Nice shot! Is this Athens? I adored that hotel!”

How could she shame him by ignoring his exquisite posts of lavish meals, royal chess matches, and nights out with his friends?

In a fit of frustration, the Prince lodged a formal complaint with his parents—the King and Queen. “Your Majesties,” he cried, “the future Princess is behaving in a manner that could lead to a beheading!”

Every time the Prince threw one of his royal fits, his parents sent him to the Royal Therapist, a move that kept his head firmly on his shoulders.

Naturally, the Royal Therapist was wary of the Prince, given his intense insecurities. When she offered advice, it was often only a fraction of the truth—at best, he received a mere 1/16th of what he needed to hear.

Upon returning to the future Princess’s castle, he shared the insights he gleaned—filtered through the lens of his anxious therapist.

“I forgive you!” the Prince proclaimed, raising his fist in triumph as if he had just completed an intense workout. “I realize it was the photos you disliked! So, I engaged a renowned photographer to take breathtaking pictures! From now on, you will like every one of them!”

The future Princess found the Prince’s obsession deeply unattractive and promptly updated her Tinder status to “available.”

Nevertheless, the social media-savvy Prince refused to give up. He donned a new pork pie hat, updated his profile picture, altered his Tinder name, and swiped right on the future Princess.

They dated, enjoyed passionate moments in all 74 castle bedrooms, and lived happily ever after—well, mostly. The hat did become somewhat irritating after a couple of years, but the Princess adored it. She really liked it a lot.

Thanks to T. Kent Jones.

Chapter 2: The Aftermath of the Likes

Subsection 2.1: The Digital Age of Romance

In this age of social media, how much do likes and comments matter in relationships? As our royal couple discovered, the digital world often complicates the simplest of emotions.