storybook silhouette

"Nia, have you heard?"

"You what? Gossip that got to your ears and not mine, when you've been trapped in Origin all those years?"

"Never you mind that."

"What, and now you're impatient? I suppose you've got the right. Ugh, anyway. What is it?"

"We're to be put into an...art book."

"An art book? You mean like one of the Founders used to make? That's flattering, isn't it?"

"Well, yes, I suppose, but-"

"Are they putting us on the cover? I certainly hope we won't be having to dress up all fancy-like again for that."

"I'm afraid we've no choice. We're to be depicted formalwear-only." Melia's chin set, with mild and uncharacteristic reluctance. "As queens."

"Oh, blow that. They can't hear me when I'm in the book, so what's the difference if I'm in this outfit instead of those horrible robes?"

"I commiserate, Nia, but we must set a good example. Ouroboros are always changing class uniforms, and we can't have them doing that for this. You know as well as I do that Eunie would fly at the chance."

"I thought it was only your sister who could fly."

"My what?"

"Never mind. Just tell me when the photographer is coming by, or whatever."

So the photographer came by, and so the queens were sent, masked, into the annals of history, whence they quite literally came, except a little sideways of that, incidentally. A quick scan of the spread would reveal how photo-Nia gazed plaintively over, side-wise, at photo-Melia, thinking of how dearly (and ardently, and other, less petite-pretty ways) she missed her fellow queen, and grumbled out a flat, glossy little "I told you these outfits would be right stifling" for Melia's ostensibly-unlistening ears.

But at last, when the book was closed, left over right, cover to cover, spine all in alignment and uncracked (no matter how much Nia might wish it so), it was found that the queens could be together, after all.

And they lived happily ever after.