After

This is a little doodle I wrote based off of a tweet (don’t read the tweet if you don’t want to spoil the story) I made awhile back. Sorry it took so long (to all three of you who actually read this).

This is a story about what happens after “happily ever after.”

The boxes sat gathering dust. Despite the best efforts, right down to shutting the windows despite the oppressive summer heat of the city, the dust stubbornly lingered on top and around the boxes. So, at least once a week, somebody had to make the rounds through the shelves.

That “somebody” was a woman in a simple green dress, one of the few things she could say she owned. Her hair, once a vibrant red to the point of being almost ridiculous and unbelievable in direct sunlight, had darkened with maturity to a burnished copper. As tedious as this task would be to anyone else, she thought of it as like keeping a sacred vigil. The soft cloths she used to wipe the boxes, the boxes themselves with their folders and papers nestled inside fascinated her as a treasure trove of oddments would fascinate a 16-year-old girl.

Her companion was a stern woman who had mastered the art of the arched eyebrow, but still had trouble with keeping the occasional strand of chestnut hair out of her face. She preferred to use a feather duster on her shelves of books. The red-haired woman insisted that all it did was push the dust around causing it to land on the books once more and that using a cloth would better capture the impish motes. Yet the brunette was very set in her ways, considering she always took tea at the same time each day, using the same chipped porcelain cup despite receiving a new service set and a dozen roses from her husband each year on her birthday. To be fair, the redhead had her own attachments, including a long-tarnished silver fork and a fine comb with a couple of teeth missing, kept as reminders of a time long past when she did not know the difference between the two items.

It was a curiosity to some of the society women of the city as to why two women would maintain employment despite marrying well. Much whispering and gossip went on, but like the gusts of auto exhaust at the closed window, they were unaware of much of it, not that they had ever paid much mind to the opinions of others.

It was true that they had married well, landed gentry even. Yet even a kingdom by the sea or a castle deep in the forest can become a sort of prison. While they loved their respective husbands, they still felt the same drive to see the world that everyone had previously insisted would subside once they had married, once they had grown up.

Curiously enough, the two had met at some boring social function or other, something they had been obligated to do since their husbands had traveled to discuss trade or something equally dull. They both had been wandering around another strange castle, having successfully snuck out of a parlor or ladies’ luncheon.

“Oh, I beg your pardon.” The brunette curtsied politely.

“No, the fault was mine.” The redhead was glad that the light in the armory was dim, or else her face would have well matched the shade of her hair.

They had both collided into each other while staring at the various suits of armor and weapons mounted on the wall. After the collision, they had started suddenly, nearly jumping into an antique iron maiden. Fortunately, the coffin doors were closed.

“Of course, leave it to men to come up with a million different ways to kill each other.” The redhead scoffed.

“The inventions my father came up with could never hurt anyone. They barely worked half the time.” The brunette sighed.

“Your father was an inventor? That sounds exciting.”

“Not as much as you’d think.”

“My father was a king, but things weren’t quite that interesting at home either.”

The brunette got that look on her face, the one that the redhead had occasionally dreaded. The one that said “Oh great, another spoiled princess.”

“Where is his kingdom? Er, I mean, where do you hail from?”

“… far away. Very far away.”

“I remember you. You’re the foreign girl that married the Prince of Shore Country.”

“And you’re the girl who lifted that curse on the Prince of Forest Country.”

“Well, I just helped a little…”

And so the ice was broken, terrible shards of pointy awkward ice.

“Some of this stuff is really neat, but they really ought to take better care of it.” The redhead looked warily at a tapestry that was hung by a window, practically bleached by sunlight.

“I suppose.” The brunette was already looking toward the door. “I wonder where the library is.”

“You really think that this family would bother with the upkeep of one? I doubt they even read.” The redhead laughed, instinctively looking behind her because it seemed that any time she unthinkingly made sport of someone, they were always in hearing range.

“You have a point. Still, I wonder what’s up those stairs.”

“Only one way to find out.”

This was how they knew that they were meant to be friends. Sure enough, there was a library, very poorly looked after. The leather covers were brittle and cracked, creaking with complaint at the mere mention of being opened. Dust came away from their spines and tops onto the cumbersome white gloves the ladies had to wear for the occasion. Once, a shriek echoed through the vast, empty chamber of floor-to-ceiling shelves as a bunch of silverfish tumbled out of a volume.

It was a minor adventure compared to the ones they had both experienced prior to marriage, but it was enough for them both to reminisce about the good old days, exchanging many letters. They had a mutual propensity toward getting into peculiar situations due to their almost insatiable curiosity. The book-loving brunette had mentioned that her father had left behind boxes and boxes of papers that she could never make heads or tails off, spurring her friend to insist on visiting.

There was little rhyme or reason apparent in the overstuffed boxes, yet the redheaded princess was rapt in attention, looking at the rough drawings and schematics, the use of everyday items in new arrangements for new purposes. Her hostess was surprised that she could be scarcely moved from the library during the visit except for meals. Despite being in the library, the coast-dwelling princess took no interest in the books, but stayed at a great table, poring over the papers, occasionally making notes and transferring items into new folder and boxes.

“It seems that your father’s papers were in order by invention and date, but not labeled as such. I labeled the boxes accordingly and gave the papers and folders some space to breathe.” She explained. “I also made lists to help anyone searching for documentation for particular inventions.”

The brunette’s eyes widened. “You’ve only been here for a fortnight!”

“And you read thirty-four books in that same amount of time.” The redhead smirked.

The city in the mountains between the Forest Kingdom and the Shore Kingdom had a modest library and when word came about that they needed a librarian, the brunette could hardly resist. As much as her husband hated to see her go, he only wanted her happiness. As such, he noticed that despite the large size of the palace library, sometimes she would climb the ladder or circuit around the shelves, occasionally emitting a heavy sigh.

While he had offered a letter of recommendation amounting more or less to a royal decree, she politely declined, insisting that she could get the position on her own merit. At first, the executors doubted her seriousness or interest in the maintenance of the library, but after rolling back her sleeves and demonstrating her knowledge about how the books should be ordered, loaned out and cared for, they could hardly refuse. The patrons found her cheery and personable, always with the best recommendations. Many marveled that she must have read every volume in the building, which was not that large of a feat since this library could have very well fit within her own.

Next door to the library was the new city Archives building. If she thought her own father’s papers had been jumbled, this was the Augean stables in the form of boxes of loose paper haphazardly set on rickety shelves. It seemed that the previous librarian had thought little of the boxes, only taking donations from whoever came around with a dead relative and boxes that had only been clutter in basements and attics. She sent a dispatch to her friend by the sea with preternatural sorting abilities, asking for her assistance.

It took years and some generous donations from their respective husbands to bring the modest collections to a sustainable order. New shelves needed to be built, additional staff was needed to help sort everything. A corridor was built to connect the library and archives. Yet the more this project grew, the more the princes longed for their wives to return home. The two princesses, one of whom had never quite adjusted to living in a large castle, took fairly well to sharing a modest apartment across the square from where they worked.

Of course, minor strains happened here and there. The red haired princess took a bit too long in the bath. Her roommate couldn’t help but wonder what she could be doing in the tub to cause water to splash out all over the tile floor. Perhaps she missed swimming in the sea, so far away in the mountains. The brunette princess had a tendency to leave the books she read in random places around their small dwelling and occasionally left a mess in the kitchen after meals as if the utensils had gotten up and danced around the countertops, splattering on the cabinets. They both sang, causing occasional noise complaints from less-exuberant neighbors.

Twice a year they would return to their respective kingdoms. They had made promises to their husbands, after all. Before they knew it, faint strands of silver had woven their way through crowns of auburn and jet. Yet aging and distance had not caused their love to fade. In fact, it was possible that it only made the ties stronger. Despite the lines worn in into their faces, more solemn now from years of rule, the husbands remained handsome.

It was a strange arrangement, two princesses far from their kingdoms, far from their princes, tending books and papers and living together in the city. However, stranger things have been known to happen.