Darling Charming had spent her entire life waiting.

Perhaps that is a bit of an exaggeration, because, of course, she’d engaged in other activities, such as sleeping, eating, reading, and scrapbooking. But waiting was her least favorite thing to do, and she’d done a lot of it.

Darling: One hour. Just one hour.

She sighed.

Darling: But it feels like forever after.

Rosabella: I know it’s hard and it feels like a total waste of time, but at least you aren’t mistreated, like ogres and goblins.

Darling agreed, 100 percent. But that didn’t make it any less tedious. Waiting was a traditional activity for princesses, and Darling had been taught to uphold tradition. And to be dutiful. And perfect. Such was her lot in life.

At least, that’s how it appeared. At that very moment, Darling and Rosabella were sitting on the plush carpet in their dormitory room at Ever After High, a special school for the sons and daughters of fairytale characters. Their room was opulently decorated, with carved vanities, gilded mirrors, and tasseled curtains. Vases of fresh flowers sat on every available inch of counter space.

This upper level of the girls’ dormitory was sometimes called the Royal Wing because so many of the students who lived there were princesses. Rosabella Beauty was the daughter of the famous Beauty, a girl whose love had turned the Beast back into a prince. Darling Charming was the daughter of the renowned King Charming, whose royal storyline stretched back to the very beginning of stories.

The Charming men had always been known for their heroic deeds, luxurious hair, and enchanting eyes. Darling’s two brothers were expected to follow in King Charming’s heroic footsteps by saving damsels, slaying dragons, and basically conquering whatever evil stepped into their paths.

Darling, however, was not a son. She was a daughter. And being a daughter was a different matter altogether. No heroic deeds were expected of her. No quests or adventures. While the activities of the Charming princes had always been celebrated by poets and storytellers, the Charming princesses had a singular destiny—to be damsels in distress waiting for rescue. This was the way things had always been.

And because tradition was the first, second, and third word in the Charming motto—Tradition, Tradition, Tradition—this was the way things remained.

Darling: What are you reading?

Rosabella: The latest issue of Beast Weekly.

As an activist who stood up for the rights of beasts everywhere, she liked to keep up with beastly matters.

Rosabella: Why don’t you read something while you’re waiting?

Darling: Reading is doing something.

Darling explained this as she adjusted her satin pillow.

Darling: And according to my thronework, I’m not supposed to do anything. I’m only supposed to wait.

She groaned with dissatisfaction.

Rosabella tossed her magazine aside.

Rosabella: That doesn’t make sense. How can waiting be thronework?

Darling grabbed her MirrorPad and opened her thronework app. Then she read the assignment out loud.

Class: Damsel-In-Distressing

Thronework: Waiting exercise

This week we shall practice the art of waiting, an important skill for the distressed damsel.

Instructions: Sit perfectly still for one hour. Do not fidget. Do not engage in any activities. Any and all distractions will make the waiting difficult, so clear your minds and meditate.

Points will be deducted if you fall asleep, unless you have a note from a physician stating that you suffer from a sleeping curse.

Hextra Credit: Hextra points will be given for each additional hour of successful waiting.

Darling: Sometimes, when I stare at the wall and start counting backward, I’ll stop thinking about things.

Darling laughed a little. She twiddled her polished thumbs.

Darling: I probably shouldn’t be talking to you, since talking is doing something.

Rosabella: I’d flip my crown if I had to take Damsel-In-Distressing.

She scrambled to her feet.

Rosabella: I’d rather clean the bathrooms in the boys’ dormitory than sit and stare at walls. I’m so glad my story doesn’t require me to be a rescued damsel.

For a moment, envy washed over Darling, but she didn’t say anything. She sat quietly, watching as Rosabella slipped her arms into a floral-print cardigan with a fake-fur collar. It was true that Rosabella’s destiny was to be the rescuer, not the rescued. To save the beast from his horrid curse. To be the hero.

How lucky she is, Darling thought.

On the outside, the two girls seemed quite different. Raised by a progressive mother, Rosabella was outspoken, free-willed, and passionate about her beliefs. Even though she was from Royal heritage, she rarely wore a tiara. She chose comfortable, layered dresses and tall, fake-fur-lined boots rather than filigreed gowns and platform heels.

Darling, on the other hand, always dressed like a princess, in elegant clothing with nary a spot or tear. A tiara perched on her pale blond tresses, which didn’t fall over her shoulders but, rather, cascaded, as she’d trained her hair to do. She wore just a touch of lip gloss and tried very hard to never scowl so she wouldn’t make a crease between her eyebrows, as she’d been taught by her mother, the queen.

But while the roommates looked different, on the inside, they were quite similar, though Darling was the only person who knew that truth.

Rosabella: This school needs to recognize that times are changing and Damsel-In-Distressing is as old-fashioned as writing in cursive or hexpecting a fairy godmother to solve all your problems.

Rosabella grabbed her MirrorPad.

Rosabella: They might as well call the class Dozing-In-Dresses, because until you’re actually a damsel in distress, waiting must get very boring.

Dozing-In-Dresses? Darling held back a snicker, but she secretly agreed with her roommate.

Darling: Where are you going?

Rosabella: I’m going to collect signatures. I’ve drawn up a petition to make it legal for beasts to eat in cafés. They should have the same rights we have, don’t you think?

Darling: Y-yes?

But she wasn’t sure, considering that some beasts might want to eat the cafés’ customers, along with whatever happened to be on the menu.

Rosabella opened their dorm room door, then turned and smiled at Darling.

Rosabella: You’re welcome to join me. I could use some help.

Darling: I can’t. My parents would be very disappointed if I skipped my thronework.

Rosabella: Yeah, I guess you’re right. Well, see you later.

And off Rosabella went.

Darling’s legs twitched. She wanted to follow. She wanted to charge down the hall, dash outside, run across the footbridge, through the meadow, and beyond. But that would be unacceptable. While Rosabella’s parents encouraged their daughter to speak her mind and follow her passions, Darling’s parents were quite the opposite. Darling was as old-fashioned as a princess could be.

In public, at least.

???: What if you need to eat?

Darling lifted her head at the disembodied voice. It was male. It was one she recognized. She looked over her shoulder to see you crouching in the open window. You had your signature grin as you uses your hook to keep from falling back.

Darling: What are you doing?

Your grin seemed to grow.

Y/N: Saving a princess?

Darling rolled her eyes, but smiled regardless. You entered the room and tucked your hook into your belt. You reached up and fixed your hat, which made Darling look at the rest of your appearance. You were a brawny guy with usually messy H/C hair.

You usually wore a white ripped tank top, a red leather coat, and black pants with red ripped details with zippers and dark brown boots. Your accessories consisted of a black pirate hat with dark golden details, pale feathers and the pirate crew's symbolic pin, black fingerless gloves, a golden skull ring, red, black and white bracelets, and a black belt which your pocket watch was usually damgling from. Plus you sometimes had shadows around your eyes that make you look attractive in her mind.

What really caught her eye, however, was the basket of fruit that you were holding onto. You walked over to Darling before crouching down in front of her, resting your chin on your fist while you smiled.

Y/N: Thronework?

Darling: Thronework.

Y/N: Bleh.

You stuck your tongue out in disgust. Despite being one of the smarter students of Ever After High, you were notorious for skipping out on your Thronecoming. And class. Yet you always found a way to slip out of trouble.

You held up the basket of fruit. It consisted of apples, pears, blueberries, and grapes. She figured you had already eaten the peaches since they were your favorite. Something about never having them on the ship.

Y/N: I'm sure a princess can have something to eat while she waits for her "hero" to come and save her.

Darling gave you a look which only made you laugh.

Y/N: Relax, Charming. I know you could escape any tower they put you in.

Darling looked at the fruit again, hut hesitated.

Darling: Eating is doing something.

You tapped your cheek for a second.

Y/N: I won't tell if you don't.

Darling tried to fight it, but she couldn't help but smile. She took the basket you had offered her before you turned around and sat down next to her. She helped herself to a pear.

Y/N: I have no idea why you still do these classes. I mean, you can wipe the floor with half of those bozos in Hero Training.

Darling: You know it's not that simple.

You just shrugged. The two of you have known each other since you were kids. Though you would only see her on certain occasions, you both stayed close thanks to letters and, eventually, hexting. When she found out that you were being transfered to Ever After High rather than Neverland High, she was ecstatic.

You were a Rebel before Rebels were Rebels. You always did what you wanted, uncaring about any consequences unless it was harmful to another. Even then, you would debate rather it was worth it or not.

Y/N: This is quite boring. Beyond boring. This is so boring that I rather have a crocodile bite my hand off.

Darling: You could try. Maybe this time it'll work.

You chuckled at the memory. When you were 10, you tried to get that dastardly crocodile to bite your hand off so you could get a hook like your old man. Thankfully, or maybe not, the crocodile just walked off without so much as looking at you.

Y/N: One day.

You rose to your feet and took a deep breath as you stretched your arms out.

Y/N: But my point still stands. This is incredibly dull.

You turned to your friend and smirked.

Y/N: You wanna go fencing?

Darling gave you a look.

Darling: Maybe some other time. I should be here in case Maid Marian ends up coming around.

You pouted.

Y/N: Shame.

You then shrugged. You never seemed to be upset for long. Something you didn't have in common with your father.

Y/N: Guess I'll go bother someone else. Have fun being a damsel.

Darling groaned.

Y/N: See you around, Darling.

You returned to the window and promptly, yet flawlessly, leaped out. Darling could hear your laughter as you fell towards the bushes below that would surely catch you just as they've done a hundred times before.

Darling had then decided that she made friends with someone who was just short of being a psychopath
And she loved it.