by Anya Wylde
EVER AFTER
A Novella
By
ANYA WYLDE
Copywright 2014 Anya Wylde
Smashwords Edition
ACKNOWLEDGEMENT
Once again, I am ever so grateful to my adorable husband, my poodle, my friends, my family ... in fact the whole wide world.
(i)
It was time.
The land was pining, the people yearning and the queen getting on in years. The king, too, had lost all the hair on his head save one tiny grey curl.
Yes, it was time.
Time for the king and queen of the great snowcapped mountains to have a child. A child who would be heir to the throne and rule over the people of the snowcapped kingdom. A wonderful, obedient child who would love and care for his ageing parents.
The king and queen smiled at each other. Yes, it was time.
Once the decision was made, the king and queen immediately turned to the wise council and asked them for the best method to achieve this end. The wise counsel consisted of four very old turtles with wrinkled necks and dark, mysterious eyes. For centuries they had served the kings and queens of the great snowcapped mountains faithfully offering incomprehensible advice. But this time the question posed to them was unique … How did one go about producing a child?
They poked their heads out of their ancient shells and had a long discussion amongst themselves. They argued, they wheezed, they grumbled, but in the end they agreed unanimously. It was the clearest, shortest and most straightforward answer any council had ever given. They were firm in their belief that this was the only solution. They smiled through dried, crinkled lips and said that it was simple.
"What," the king asked feverishly "must I do?"
“Search from north to south, east to west,” they chanted, “and procure the best quality clay you can find.”
"And?" the queen prompted through nervous, quivering lips.
"Take the clay," they said triumphantly, "and make a baby out of it."
The king and queen grinned and leaped into the air. They clapped their hands and danced and sang. Once the celebrations ended, they called all their runners and set them to work.
The king also wrote a long notice to be sent to the other kingdoms. It was sixty feet long and written in gold ink. It consisted of long winded formalities, hellos and howdies, but what it all boiled down to was, in short, simply this. "If you value our alliance, find me the best clay in this world and I will reward you handsomely."
Thereafter, the runners, soldiers and foreign ministers raced all over the world. They searched through dry desserts on camels and things. They galloped across green forests and over mountains and hills. They bobbed and floated on boats, ships and crocodiles ….
Until one day a simple farm boy wearing plain brown clothes and tattered shoes staggered up to the King. He smiled proudly and held out his hands, letting the softest, smoothest and whitest clay trickle between his calloused fingers.
The king and the queen rejoiced. They had found their clay. They rewarded the boy and immediately set their artisans to work to make the most beautiful babe in the world.
Finally the day arrived, and the kingdom waited in breathless silence. The sculpture was unveiled after a lot of ceremony and fuss. The cellist stopped playing, the pianist’s fingers paused, the kingdom stilled, and the king and queen of the great snowcapped mountains peered into the cradle ….
The tiny form was as pretty as can be. But, alas, it had no life … no heartbeat.
***
"We knew it!" crowed the young ministers. "No old, traditional methods can ever work. What the king needs is a more modern approach. Something scientific and progressive, and officially approved."
The king scratched his tired head and asked them what they meant.
"All you have to do," the ministers replied, "is send a petition to the chief minister of storks responsible for the safe transport of newborn babies who resides in the kingdom of the wind. Your babe will arrive in no time all. No time at all …."
The king spoke to his lawyers, and they agreed that this could work. He dictated an eighty feet long scroll and sent it off. But, alas, on the way the petition became tied up in rolls of red tape and got stuck to the tip of the tallest tree and was lost forever.
The queen wilted and threatened to go live with her mother forever.
The king had no choice. He had to turn to his last resort. Hence, on a dark moonless night he crept out of his castle and trekked up the mountain.
He paused under an old gnarled tree and started digging the snow covered earth. He dug and he dug and he dug until his cold, blistered hands touched something hard. His fingers now worked more frantically. Finally, huffing and puffing he dragged an old turtle out into the open.
This particular turtle was a royal secret. It was their powerful spiritual advisor, who was rumoured to be as old as the earth. Looking at it now, the king wondered if it was finally dead. Worried, he knocked on the shell.
A disgruntled head appeared out of the shell and dry, cracked lips spat out a mouthful of snow. "What do you want?" it growled.
"A child," the king replied promptly.
The wise turtled squinted its eyes and peered at the king. "It is simple," it said. "Stand on one leg and pray to the goddess of fertility.”
The king returned back to the castle. By now he was too tired to stand on two legs, forget praying on one. He, therefore, requested his footman to do it in his stead. His wife joined the footmen, and the two stood on one leg and began praying for a babe.
Many suns rose, many moons set, and the earth circled the sun four times before the discordant voices of the footman and the queen reached the Goddess. It was yet another rotation before the Goddess became annoyed enough to grant them what they desired.
The people of the kingdom rejoiced.
The queen took up knitting.
The king became fat.
The footman was promoted to the post of sergeant major.
And with a shout from the queen, a hoot from the major, a joyous giggle from the good king … the long awaited princess finally arrived.
***
After all the ups and downs and downs and ups, the king was understandably protective about his daughter. He took one look at her flushed, wrinkled face, declared her too precious for the world and locked her away in the prettiest tower in the kingdom.
The princess grew up quickly as children often do. In a blink of an eye, the baby princess started crawling. Another blink and she was walking, and a third blink had her running from room to room.
One day the queen sat watching her young daughter playing with gold and ruby trinkets. All of a sudden, the princess let out a shout as a pearl slipped out of her tiny hands and hit the window with a soft crack. The young princess jumped up and raced to the window.
The queen's mood turned maudlin as she watched her daughter hunt for the elusive jewel. She wondered what the princess would do when she became tired of the beauty of the tower and all the wonders it beheld.
A majestic eagle whizzed by the window just then. Distracted, the princess forgot about the pearl and instead began watching the eagle beating its strong brown wings as it glided and dipped and flirted with the clouds. She tapped the glass in joy.
The queen's face turned grey as an odd fearful thought nestled in her breast. She wondered if her little princess would one day weary of her gilded cage. What then? Would her beloved daughter turn to the window and leap from it in an attempt to join the soaring eagles?
Days went by and the princess continued to grow and so did the worrisome fear in the queen's heart. At last the queen could bear it no longer. She turned to her own wise council and unburdened her heart. The queen's council consisted of twelve grasshoppers
who lived in the garden. They respectfully took off their flowery bonnets and heard the queen out.
"I worry and worry and worry," the queen cried, "that one day my daughter will jump from the tower and die."
The grasshoppers rubbed their green hands and feet together and chittered amongst themselves. The grasshoppers were female; hence, a solution was found quickly enough.
"Wrap her in cotton wool," they announced, "and pad her up well. It is the only way."
The queen smiled her thanks and rewarded them with silver spoons and plates specially crafted for their size.
Next, she got busy sticking hundreds of cotton balls all over the princess. It was only after the princess was so padded that she could barely walk that the queen was satisfied. And it was just as well, for the Queen had been right as mothers so often are ….
The princess grew up into a lovely young woman with hair like the night and eyes like a clear morning sky. She was also intelligent, which was why she soon grew bored of sparkling baubles and frivolous games.
It was on her seventeenth birthday that she turned her attention towards the window. From then on her beautiful, expressive face appeared to wear a mask of yearning. Every morning she would draw back the thick gold curtains, rest her head against the window and stare out of the spotless glass at the never-ending blue sea. She would gaze longingly at the fishermen in their boats and the fishwives waiting for their husbands to return to the shore. She wished she could see their faces, but they were so far away. They appeared no larger than her dolls from where she stood high up in her golden tower.
She wanted to escape. To swim and bath in the ocean water. She wanted to paddle and frolic and make tiny paper boats and set them afloat on the puddles in the sand. She grew forlorn as days went by and she remained trapped in the tower. Her servants, friends, and even her parents’ love, was no longer enough to fill her heart.
Then one day the sun beckoned too invitingly for the princess to resist, and she used her solid gold violin to break the glass and leaped from the window of the tower.
***
It was her mother’s foresight and the cotton padding that saved her life.
The princess limped back to the tower with a broken ankle and a sore heart. The king took one look at his beloved daughter and melted. He was not a cruel man. He loved his daughter and could not bear to see her lovely face looking so forlorn with tears glistening in her big blue eyes. He engulfed his daughter in a warm, comforting hug and told her that from now on she could leave her tower.
"Truly?" the princess asked in awe.
"Yes," the king replied.
"Can I explore the palace?"
"To your heart's content," he smiled.
"And see a market, visit a fair and paddle in the sea."
"You can if you will heed my advice," he warned.
She folded her hands on her lap and lifted a shining face to her father.
He patted her eager head and continued. "Twenty four guards will follow you every time you leave the tower."
She nodded eagerly.
He lifted a hand. "I have not finished. The guards will follow you everywhere. You will listen to them, and if they advise you not to go someplace … you shall not go."
She gave a firm nod.
He narrowed his eyes and continued. "You will also take with you a lady's maid, a doctor and two nurses in case you get hurt, a pistol in each pocket, a machine gun strapped to your back and a grenade squirreled away in your bonnet."
Her eyes widened at this pronouncement.
"You will have a military tank follow you every time you venture further than the palace walls," he added.
Her mouth fell open. “A tank?"
"Yes."
"With a giant cannon attached to the roof?" she asked.
"Yes."
"Can I operate the cannon and launch …err… stuff?"
"If needed."
"What fun," she exclaimed and leaped up to kiss her father's cheek.
The king turned red in pleasure and mumbled gruffly, "You can't go too far from the palace, and you must not talk to strangers. Don’t eat strange foods, drink funny things, smoke odd stuff…."
The princess stopped listening. She quivered in excitement, her feet itching to get away. She had a whole world waiting to be explored.
She nodded absently as her father continued to lecture her for the next six hours. Her face sported a practised obedient expression, but inside her a storm was brewing. It was a wonderful, thundery and exciting storm—the sort of storm that one looks forward to on a hot summer day—It grew inside her, a tiny baby seed of a tempest, and as her thoughts and emotions grew so did the seed start swelling bigger and bigger and bigger until it had no choice but to erupt. It erupted in a shimmer of happy rain and washed away her sadness. The accompanying gale soothed the ridges in her soul picking away the dark, unhappy bits. And like one who is young, she was once again strong, hopeful and full of joy.
After the lecture, the princess wasted not one single moment. She immediately began inspecting the palace. Once the palace lost its charms, she ventured into the gardens and then beyond. She paddled in the sea, set paper boats afloat, learnt what it was like to have her hair frizzed by the humid sea breeze and even sat on a boat. In the beginning of her explorations, the princess obeyed her father and stuck firmly to the rules. It wasn't difficult considering the number of things she had to see and soak in.
Then one day she decided to visit the market. And it was this very day that she first began to think about breaking the rules.
***
The market was busy with people running to and fro like thousands of busy ants on a bright summer's day. The lemonade men strolled through the streets ringing bells and shouting, “One cup for a penny, one cup for a penny, free ice and honey, one cup for a penny….”
Jugglers, puppeteers and acrobats gleamed in their gold outfits as they performed in tiny emerald tents dotting the sides of the cobbled lanes. Children were screaming in excitement as they ogled men with two heads, birds with two beaks and a Tyrannosaurus rex.
The princess, riding atop a white elephant with a giant umbrella protecting her from the heat, slowly moved through the busy market. People had become used to seeing her. They were no longer in awe and went about their business as usual. She didn't mind. In fact, she often tried to make believe that she was not a princess but someone entirely ordinary. It was difficult—what with the elephant, guards, doctors, nurses, maids, cook, and military tank with a cannon making up her entourage—but, still, she tried to forget about them and pretend she was a simple farmer's daughter on her way to work. And sometimes it almost worked.
It was near the giant oak tree that marked the centre of the market that she saw him. He seemed to appear in front of her like a wizard. A cool breeze kissed her flushed cheek, but she did not notice. Her eyes were on the handsome man who was walking closer and closer to her. His eyes were downcast as if he was counting his steps.
She willed him to look up.
He paused near the trunk of the elephant and gave it a slight pat.
She leaned over, her breath coming in shallow gasps. Look up, she prayed silently.
And he did. He looked up at her with shimmering eyes.
She froze.
He waited for a breathless moment before offering a smile.
She watched his face transform with that smile. He was beautiful, she thought enchanted.
His lips quirked at her obvious admiration. He bowed politely and turned away.
The moment he walked away, her breath came back to her in a rush and she craned her neck around. From her seat atop the white elephant, she could see his scarlet coat flitting amongst the sea of blue and green cloaks. She watched the flash of red for a long, long time until it completely disappeared from her view.
The man played on her mind for days. She looked for a glimpse of him everywhere she went. Her eyes searched for him … the stranger … for he was a stranger i
n this land.
His coat had been cut in a foreign style, and the bright scarlet hue of the material was something she had never seen before. He had worn his dark, unruly hair long, longer than the men of her land. And his eyes … She recalled the smile, the slight twinkle in his dark eyes … No one in this kingdom had eyes so dark, so deep and so richly brown.
***
Chance threw them together once more on a lovely balmy evening when the sun was just setting and the breeze was laden with the scent of night flowers. The princess had set out for a long leisurely stroll. She had her usual entourage with her, along with one new addition. This new addition was an adorable little pug which she carried in her arms.
She wondered what she should name her new pet as she walked down the main street nodding at traders and street magicians. Blueberry was a good name, she thought, but perhaps more appropriate for a blue rat …Twinkle toes? No, she had seen the pug walk. He was clumsy, often falling over his own feet … Prince? She smiled to herself as she imagined introducing the pet to her father's formal guests. She would bow to the King of Nettles and say, “I am Princess, Your Highness, and this,” she would continue, pointing to the curtseying pug, “is Prince.”
The King of Nettles, a stingy fellow with his pursed up mouth, sharp face and rude tone, would certainly reel back in horror at the sight of her beloved pug wearing a tiara and a green velvet robe … She frowned … Possibly the King of Nettles couldn’t help being stingy, rude and all sorts of horrid things. It was in the nature of some to bite, and she couldn't blame them for it. It was how they were created—
Crack, phut, phut, phut, weeeee! A fire cracker lit by an illuminator's child suddenly exploded close to her. The pug gave a startled yelp and jumped out of her arms. The princess lunged, but it was too late. The pug slipped out of her grasp and took off down the street.
The princess raced after it, screaming at her beloved pet to stop. The pug ignored her and kept on running. The princess hiked up her white silk skirts and flew after him. She skidded under carts, leaped over puddles, skirted thorny hedges and stepped into puddles. She ignored the shouts of the soldiers, the cry from her maid, and the warning yell from the doctor. She couldn't be bothered with rules at the moment. She had to save her puppy.
