Ever After

Chapter Two: Apart From Her World

It was half past ten in the evening when I stopped my pen and decided to call it off another day.  I went to the chambers that I shared with my wife and found Ariel fast asleep.  She was always an early sleeper and an equally early riser.  Something about the bedtimes under the sea made her that way and throughout our marriage she kept the habit.  I, on the other hand liked to burn the midnight oil.  

There was a time when I tried to engage her to stay late at nights and talk about our day but she always ended up falling asleep halfway through my stories.  Eventually, I gave up trying.  The same way I gave up involving her in most of the state affairs.

During the early years of our marriage, I tried to get Ariel to join me in the business of ruling.  I set up a desk for her next to mine and tried to have her draft my letters.  I showed her the daily ledgers and taught her how to account for the public funds.  I brought her to meetings with my council advisers and foreign dignitaries.  I took her to official state balls, dinners and sporting events.  However, each one turned into a series of failures.  Her grammar was terrible, her arithmetic knowledge was almost non-existent and her lack of basic court etiquette during official functions almost made us lose a few trading partners.  In addition she was prone to doing the oddest things at the most inopportune moments.   She may have stopped combing her hair with a fork but her ignorance over the most common everyday things led her to commit embarrassing mistakes.

I tried to be as patient as possible.  I understand that most of the basic skills a person of her status would normally possess here on land were completely alien to her.  I hired tutors for her, guided her and encouraged her to learn things in my world.  But in the end I suppose things just got too overwhelming.  The nobility were particularly vicious with her and I knew it pained her as much as I did when people maliciously laughed behind our backs when she committed a faux pas.

Little by little she retreated to the company of the servants and peasants in our kingdom.  Their simple ways made them more accepting of her shortcomings and her natural charm and openness endeared her to them.  Her rapport with the peasants was what made the transition of sea-related industries to farming in the kingdom so much easier so I left her to do just that.

Eventually, she cut off ties with the nobles completely and abandoned the desk next to mine.   I was left to deal with state affairs and anything that needed communication with the upper classes.

It was a harmonious arrangement. Though at times I wished for someone to talk to about what bothered me in state matters.  Grimsby was the closest thing I have but on nights like this I wished it was Ariel who could be there instead of that old beanbag. 

I kissed her cheek softly but decided not to wake her. It was just as well.  I was still wide awake and wanted to expel my brain on something other than work.  I headed off to the library.  Maybe a good book will settle my mind.

My library was vast in its collection of books on practically every subject.  But tonight I wanted something light.  I headed off to a special section where my favorite childhood adventure tales of pirates and sea battles were kept. 

I pulled out an old volume I haven't touched in ages.  As I did, a piece of parchment fell from its pages.  I picked it up expecting it to be just an old loose leaf from the book and was surprised to find it was a letter.  I opened it to reveal a neat feminine script.

Elsa.

I read the letter and I felt myself smile.  I remembered this one.  I received it when I was about 11 years old.  She was 16 then.  It was the reply she sent me after I told her of the adventures I had during my first three-month fishing expedition.  She made a reference to my adventure to a book she read about sailing.  She even made a little joke about it that made me suddenly burst into laughter.  It was still funny even after all these years.

I re-read the letter twice and it brought back memories of the other letters I received from her through the years.  I remembered enjoying them while I was a child.  She was so witty when she wrote.  She always provided comments to my tales that it made me want to write back to her as soon as I can.  She was quite opinionated and I remember arguing with her through letters in just about every subject matter: religion, sciences, politics, history, literature, mathematics.  It was strange how a girl who was locked up in her room for most of her life could write with such versatility. 

It made me suddenly ponder why I rejected her and stopped writing altogether.  It didn’t seem to matter much to me then when I did.  But now that I think about it my reasons were rather petty and childish.

Growing up they say, puts things in perspective.   Becoming King gives you an even wider reach.  When I was in my teens, I went through a phase where I resented everything my father did to me.  I questioned all his decisions, argued against his orders even to the point of negating everything he said just to prove myself right.  One of the sore things between us was the engagement he arranged for me when I was only three years old.  I was at the point that I was reading romances and talking to others about finding true love.  I wanted it too yet here was an engagement I never wanted already in place even before I could learn how to protest.

And so I began to rationalize things.  It didn’t matter if Elsa’s letters were interesting.  She was another instrument of my father’s hold on me.   How could I possibly marry this girl that wasn’t my choice in the first place?  Besides, she admitted she never went out of her rooms.  Maybe she was a cripple? Or had a disease?  Why would I want someone like that to share my life with?

So when the truth came out that she was in fact possessed of ice powers, it gave me the right amount of ammunition against my father.  “See? You engaged me to an ice witch!” I told him.   

I nursed the bitterness with my father but it was Elsa that I struck.   I accused her of being dishonest to me on her true condition.  A month after my father’s death, I sent her the coldest letter in just three lines:

I am sorry but I cannot imagine spending my life with you.  As the new King of Tastris, I am revoking the arrangement my father made with yours.  I shall not write again.

She never wrote after that again either. 

But now as I held her letter in my hands, I felt a surge of shame and regret that I threw away our friendship over my misplaced anger at my father, whose efforts then I appreciate and understand now that I am in his shoes.

I wonder how Elsa is doing now.  I know she is still unmarried and rules her kingdom with her sister.  I heard rumors that she has an icy heart and that no man can ever win her.   It was just as well that I broke it off with her when I did.  Still, our friendship could have survived if it wasn’t for my own pigheadedness.    But it’s too late now.  Her nation is caught in a war with Weselton.  I prayed that she would survive it.  And maybe then I can at least write to ask for her forgiveness.

Of course, she might just freeze my letter as soon as she finds out it came from me.