#eccentricextrovert

It took a good month for Daring to realise that dating- no, courting, Rosabella was a bit more than extravagant gifts.

To be fair, courting any princess at Ever After High was more than extravagance. For some, being born with a silver spoon in their mouths meant that the taste dulled their senses until they could accept no less than platinum. For others, raised by wet nurses and with dead mothers and distant fathers and the lived experience that a jewelled crown came with a political weight, every bit of gold seemed that of a fool’s. For many, they knew that if someone had to put a monetary value on marriage, and that they were priceless and deserving of things better than riches, like loyalty or trustworthiness, or like, really good biceps.

(Rosabella was pretty fond of his really good biceps, if linking arms on the way to classes or dates was any sign, so Daring knew he wasn’t doing too shabbily.)

And to be fair, Rosabella kept all of the gifts. She had a few expensive rocks tucked up on one of her bookshelves, and all the flowers placed in a vase until they expired their time. She shared chocolates with Daring, but not without small tangents on rising sea levels, on how dwarf mines were an unsustainable power resource, on how magical energy was not being harnessed in renewable ways and that the waste was spreading to other magical regions, most notably Wonderland, and because of all that, the fairytale universe was getting hotter and that wasn’t just because natural selection meant that only those regarded as most beautiful in their lands got shots at marriage, and that meant that the cacao plants were going to die out and with that so many sweets-filled destinies and--

Unfortunately, he only fixated on the most minor of parts. “No fear, Rosabella! We shall sort out this waste issue. Dragons fly vast distances, surely they can take any trash off to some far, far, far off land. I’m thinking America.”

To which, she had only lightly scolded and told him not to dump their own issues on other, unsuspecting people. “Think of the Ozians! They’re unstable as it is!”

The next time Daring bought her chocolate, he made a deal about it being Fair Fairy Trade, with practises, through what research he could do, that were environmental friendly and didn’t involve underpaid fae labour. When Rosabella kissed his cheek and called him thoughtful, he felt his heart warm up inside.

~*~

“Am I doing well?” he asked, when Rosabella came up to him after classes, handed him a coffee, and looped her free arm around his.

“What do you mean?”

He blanked. “Uhm.” Daring Charming did not lose grace in social situations. “I’m totally dashing and cool, right?”

“I like you, yes,” she said, and leaned up to gently kiss him on the nose. “You are the next Beast. I’d be a little miffed if I didn’t.”

Daring wasn’t confident with that response. Author Grimm-it, he was quite fond of Rosabella. He was determined to impress her, to stand out among Ever After High’s avalanche of handsome princes, but it seemed naught when all he had to offer was pretty when she was that too, and on top of it, clever and dedicated and knowledgeable…

“The next Beast,” the words ran in his mouth strangely. It had been a while since he realised that he would soon follow Rosabella in her destiny, and abandon what he thought was his future life for the past decade. With Rosabella, things felt right. “Rosabella, I’m sorry if I don’t quite seem as princely as I do normally. My real role is just a completely, fair-y, fair-y different role from the one I thought I had.”

“I think you’re doing royally well,” she squeezed his hand. “There’s a lot to being the next Beast. For starters, you’re no longer just a trophy husband.”

He looked down at his coffee. Trophy husband. Daring knew of princes who resented that term. He never did, but he would always pass by conversations in common rooms -- ‘no matter how the world sells the narrative, we are naught but prizes for princesses’, ‘it doesn’t matter how many witches or woods they endure, we deserve autonomy too’. Ill-complaints, he had thought. The World of Ever After was still tilted in princes’ favours. His roommate, Hopper, had once tried to offer his input to these common room rifes, but was shot back with ‘isn’t your princess meant to kill you in your original? No amount of revisionism will save you, amphibian boy’.

How did Rosabella know this term? She liked activism circles, didn’t she? How much she did absorb from these princes?

Just-- what a fascinating princess. So steadfast, always holding her ground. Daring felt like he couldn’t keep up. Sometimes, he wanted to just sit back and listen to her talk for hours. Whatever topic, whatever rant, that voice, that mind, her ideas.

“For an eldest son, you never had to do much outside of hero stuff, did you?”

Rosabella was right. Daring never really thought much about ruling. Destiny for him used to be so simple - be handsome, and be certain about being handsome. Kiss a princess, wave a weapon around or so.

He thought about Apple and the role of Snow White. He thought about how, once, he had to ‘rescue’ her. How simple it was - a quick kiss.

Did he ever think about Happily Ever After afterwards? Not really. Snow White had been named one of Faebes’ top world leaders for decades now, with pretty much a monopoly on rare Dwarf minerals. Apple was the one that would have been crowned queen; they were not meant to be joint monarchs.

“No…” he confessed. “I mean, I get good grades in Kingdom Management. But I used to think that Apple would handle the political side of things.”

She grinned, and loosened her looped arm to grab his waist and pull him in. “Good. You won’t have to.”

“Rosabella, don’t think so little of me!” he tried to amplify his voice to sound strong, but a slight whinge remained. “I am not completely useless--”

Having finished her coffee by now, Rosabella put her free hand on his chest. “No, no, I didn't mean to insult you. I meant, you won’t have to rule over anyone. We don’t have people.”

“... what?”

“Other than the castle staff, we don’t have subjects,” she said. “Beauty’s the youngest daughter of a rich merchant. My coronation will be an incorporation.”

Daring blinked. “Coronation… incorporation?”

And she explained. How, because each generation, the beast’s castle would be secluded, so when destiny was done and over, him and Beauty had to live and move into it. Twenty to thirty years was too short of a time to cultivate any stable population, so the kingdom was not remodelled into a county, but a company. It was a versatile move on her predecessor’s part, so that no matter the gender of the heir, their lives would be properly set up in a manner to fulfill the story accurately.

He never realised how much he failed to ask about her.

And to think -- the times she thought about him: how she got through all the list of action movies he loved, or how she remembered his ever-complicated drink orders and the moods in which he preferred them, or the efforts she put into being friendly with Dexter and Darling, and reminding Daring about their lives. No detail seemed to slip from her mind.

“A lot of words! A lot of thought!” he said. “No wonder you’re as you are.”

“What do you mean?”

“You’re so smart. And well-read! I cannot keep pace with you all the time. It’s highly empress-ive.”

She beamed. “I think highly of you too.”

“I feel like every time we hang out, I learn more. I just… I just hope I’m not boring you. Maybe I should read like you, too.

There - her smile faltered.

Daring felt a very sudden, cold fear that he had upset her.

“I mean, other than for activism purposes, I haven’t really been reading. Legacy Year really thrones you in for a loop,” Rosabella took off her glasses and dusted them with a handkerchief - one that Daring recognised, for he had gifted it. “Too much time spent memorising crowns from birth to coronation, or looking into newly passed legislation. I want to read again.”

“You can read to me.” The response was instantaneous. “I like your voice. I like hearing you talk.”

“If I read to you, those aren’t my thoughts. But I appreciate it, Daring,” she smiled up at him. Even the roses that frequented her family castle’s gardens could not compare to her.

Daring recalled the warm feeling in his stomach, when Rosabella had kissed him for the Fairy Trade Chocolate.

“As a prince that should dash to every lovely princess’ needs, I will make time for you-- so you can make time to read!”

“We’ll start simple. Animal Farm.”

~*~

It had started out simple: hours spent under the trees in the Legacy Orchard, or Rosabella trying to read over the sound of the wind while dragonback riding, her voice starting to sound like a death metal song, or secluded areas of the Castleteria.

But the pages of the books dragged out longer, and Daring grew more eager for fiction, and by the time Rosabella cracked open a copy of Robert Iron Heinrich’s Stranger in a Strange Far, Far Away Land, reading already became an evening past-time on one of their couches in one of their dorm rooms.

At some point in these evenings, he would be comfortable enough to tuck his head between the nape of her chin and clavicle. Comfortable enough to have one arm across her waist, comfortable enough for his breathing to fall in sync with the weight of her words.

And eventually, comfortable enough to kiss for a bit, though never for long. There were books to get to, after all.