The Secret of the Seven Princesses

Epilogue

Gustave's plans for change started on a small scale. To begin with, he removed the restrictions on his daughters' mobility; no longer were they locked into their room at night or forbidden to leave the palace and its grounds. Furthermore, he actively attempted to approve the princesses' activities—or at least feigned the appearance of approbation, a feat that he found more difficult in some respects than others. It wasn't long, however, before he came to value his daughters' enjoyment over the perceived impropriety of their activities.

Though King Gustave reduced his protection in some respects, some of his other reforms included a heightened sense of control, particularly as he began to pay more attention to local affairs and the arts—and they took longer to put into action. He even sought out other ways to promote their interests: music lessons, artistic patronage, tournaments, and others. Not long after welcoming his new son-in-law into the family, the king broke ground on a new children's theater in the city square, taking inspiration from his daughters' theatrical passion and giving them a venue to use it. After a while, he came to relish the joy that his reforms brought to his daughters, and his rule was made all the better because of it.

The princesses of Kyoria certainly benefited from his reforms, relishing in the freedom that allowed them to blossom into their own. They greatly admired their father's newly expressed patronage of the arts, and many of them volunteered and provided assistance at the established theater, in addition to the variety of other activities that they were now permitted to become involved in.

Eurielle's penchant for music had been acknowledged and allowed for quite some time before the sanctum had ever been discovered. It wasn't until King Gustave personally witnessed her performance in their own production that he recognized her true potential and the excellence she could achieve if her gift was encouraged. Fully prepared to supply such support, he hired a local musician to provide Eurielle with music lessons twice a week. She enthusiastically applied herself to learning, and spent much of her off-hours practicing in any spare room she could find. Petra had already threatened her with bodily harm if she heard one more note of Eurielle's "shrieking and wailing"—so it seemed as though not everyone truly appreciated her fervor for her music, which was increasing with each new lesson. Eralie was of the opinion, though, that Eurielle's enthusiasm was helped in part by the attractiveness of her music teacher, a young man by the name of Guillaume. The youngest princess certainly seemed to talk about him a great deal, and Eralie suspected that her young affection had been successfully transferred to him.

Unlike Eurielle, Petra's activities had never quite received complete approbation from their father. His approval stopped just short of criminal activity, and he seemed only relieved that she hadn't yet resorted to stealing from anyone other than her own family. Gustave had a harder time accepting her behavior when—after reading about the philanthropic thievery of Robin Hood—she began dispersing her own "acquired" goods among the less fortunate, insisting that her purpose was to steal from the rich to give to the poor, even when the rich was her own family. The king couldn't see how the random dinner roll and doorknob could be very beneficial to someone in need, and eventually Petra seemed to realize the same. With her father's support and her sisters' occasional assistance, she finally found her rather surprising niche through participation in community service projects and providing more useful donations (acquired through honest means) to the needy.

Though her interests had been only slightly limited by the strictures of her father, Raia's newfound freedom allowed her artwork to evolve above and beyond mashed potato sculptures and edible arrangements. Her gift to the married couple for Eralie and Ty's wedding—a painted portrait of them in their garden spot—was hung in the castle and became her first exhibited artwork. Others soon followed, until the walls of the palace were strewn with her work for them and any visitors to admire. Even more than her painting, however, she found further venues for creativity through her volunteer work at the theater. She merely transferred her experience in her sisters' production to the local site through her work in costume and set design, and eventually became almost indispensible as the artistic director for the company. She especially enjoyed the opportunity to use her painting skills for set construction and production—something she hadn't needed to do previously because of the mosaic scene in the sanctum. Along with the respect and admiration that she reaped for her creative abilities, the redhead was also the object of fear for her tendency to lose her temper when her artistic masterpieces were disrupted in any way.

Since her feminine debut at her older sister's wedding, Thaleia had begun to take a more conscious effort with her appearance. She had by no means entirely relinquished her tomboyish ways and interests, but it was now much more likely to find her embracing her feminine side—or at the very least, it was more common for her to actually brush her hair after fencing and smooth her dress before reporting to dinner. Perhaps the biggest change that had taken place in Thaleia, however, was more clearly manifested in her role in the newest theatrical productions. No longer was she cast as Callia's hero, but had instead filled Eralie's old role as the leading lady. Indeed, she brought an aura of strength to the heroine that the playwright found indelibly appealing for her plotline.

As for the writer herself, Callia had received untold confidence with the success of Diamond in the Rough, after she submitted a prose form to the local newspaper. The difference with this publication, however, was that she submitted this—the first of many—under her rightful name. The success of this story gave birth to other publications in the paper, just as it spawned further theatrical productions in the theater. She had recently contemplated beginning writing a novel of the princesses' own adventures...but wasn't sure whether the story could ever be adequately told.

Cliodne's leadership abilities had granted her a natural job in overseeing the construction and birth of the theater—and her father was so impressed with her capabilities in handling this task that he delegated her others more important. The princesses' near-miss with the sanctum warning had impressed upon her the great importance in learning languages other than her own. She undertook training in several tongues, including Kellash, Chetwinese, and Auch, and her quick grasp of these languages led Gustave to appoint her as a Kyorian ambassador to the corresponding nations. He was slightly doubtful about abruptly throwing her into such a large responsibility, but her quick thinking, diplomatic understanding, and keen intelligence soon proved her to be most capable.

Unbeknownst to the newlyweds themselves, Gustave planned to abdicate the throne as soon as he felt they had been adequately prepared. For quite some time, he had been subtly increasing their responsibilities in preparation for their succession, though he remained ever careful not to overwhelm either. Ty—now known as Prince Typharius to his subjects—retained many of his duties as steward in addition to acquiring international responsibilities. Princess Eralie, on the other hand, had little interest in the responsibilities abroad, and instead devoted herself to local issues. She endeared herself to her countrymen with her gentle, generous nature, and became known for her wisdom in settling disputes to the satisfaction of each party. With his knowledge of state matters and foreign affairs and her innate sense of justice, Gustave held full confidence in their abilities to reign as wise and gracious rulers.

The future for Prince Ty and Princess Eralie held more than the promise of crowns and thrones. Something even more precious rested on the horizon, something that everyone in the palace viewed with great anticipation and joy, particularly among the six aunts-to-be. The seven princesses of Kyoria were nothing if not thrilled at the prospect of a newborn royal to care for and spoil—an event that would sure to mark the beginning of untold new tales and adventures.

And so, though it is a phrase that by no means truly describes the felicity that Ty and Eralie enjoyed during their marriage and beyond, the pleasure that the Kyorian princesses received through their independence and freedom, and the peace that reigned through the kingdom of Kyoria under their rule, this story must end as all fairy tales do:

And they all lived happily ever after.