Chapter Text
Breakfast the morning after Wednesday Addams publicly abandoned emotional repression was never going to be quiet.
Everyone tried.
That was the problem.
They tried far too hard.
Yoko sat with her coffee raised to her mouth, apparently absorbed in the steam.
Divina examined a piece of toast as though it contained a prophecy.
Ajax ate with the cautious focus of someone attempting not to set off an explosive.
Eugene had opened a book upside down.
Agnes was visible, which somehow made her more suspicious.
Bianca sat opposite Wednesday with her face arranged into perfect neutrality.
Her eyebrow had not moved once.
This was unnatural.
Enid sat beside Wednesday.
Very closely beside Wednesday.
The scarf that usually saved the chair had been folded neatly across the back because its services were no longer required.
Enid had claimed the seat personally.
Her thigh pressed against Wednesday’s beneath the table.
Her tail curled around the bench leg, then slipped loose and brushed Wednesday’s ankle every few seconds as though checking she remained there.
Wednesday continued eating.
She had selected toast.
Black coffee.
Half a grapefruit.
The breakfast of someone determined to demonstrate that the previous day had not resulted in a complete rearrangement of her internal organs.
Enid had already stolen one piece of her toast.
Wednesday had allowed it.
No one had commented.
This restraint was causing visible physical pain around the table.
Enid leaned closer.
“Do you want some of my pancakes?”
“No.”
“They have blueberries.”
“Still no.”
“You like blueberries.”
“I tolerate them in isolation.”
“What if I isolate them from the pancake?”
Wednesday looked at her.
Enid smiled.
Her eyes were bright.
Her mouth was distracting.
Wednesday returned to her grapefruit.
“No.”
Enid removed three blueberries from her pancakes and placed them beside Wednesday’s toast.
Wednesday stared at them.
The table stared at Wednesday.
Wednesday ate one.
Yoko made a small choking sound into her coffee.
Wednesday looked at her.
Yoko coughed.
“Steam.”
“The beverage is no longer hot.”
“Dangerous steam.”
Wednesday’s eyes narrowed.
Enid’s tail wagged beneath the table.
Bianca’s eyebrow twitched.
Only once.
Wednesday saw.
“Control it.”
Bianca blinked.
“What?”
“Your eyebrow.”
“I didn’t do anything.”
“You nearly did.”
Bianca pressed her lips together.
Across the table, Divina looked at the ceiling.
Ajax looked down at his plate.
Eugene turned his upside-down book another way.
It remained upside down.
Enid looked between Wednesday and Bianca.
Then she seemed to remember something.
Her expression changed.
The tail stilled.
Wednesday noticed.
“What?”
Enid looked at Bianca.
Then at Wednesday.
Then back at Bianca.
“I need to challenge you to a duel.”
Silence.
The dining hall did not merely become quiet.
It stopped.
A fork landed somewhere behind them.
Wednesday set down her spoon.
Bianca looked at Enid.
“A duel.”
“Yes.”
Yoko lowered her coffee.
Divina slowly put down the toast.
Ajax’s eyes widened with immediate interest.
Eugene corrected his book for the first time.
Agnes leaned forward.
Bianca looked around the table.
Then back at Enid.
“Why?”
Enid straightened.
Her tail gave one determined movement behind her.
“To restore your honour.”
Bianca blinked.
“My honour.”
“And get your name removed from Wednesday’s list.”
Wednesday’s face went blank.
Bianca looked at her.
Then at Enid.
Then back to Wednesday.
“The separate list?”
Enid nodded solemnly.
“The one for people who correctly identify things and must therefore be silenced.”
Bianca’s mouth twitched.
Wednesday lifted her coffee.
“That list is private.”
“You threatened Bianca with it in public at least six times,” Enid said.
“Seven,” Yoko supplied.
Wednesday looked at her.
Yoko lifted both hands.
“Historical accuracy.”
Enid continued, “Bianca only ended up on it because she saw what was happening before we did.”
“I saw what was happening,” Wednesday said.
Every face turned toward her.
Wednesday took a drink.
Enid’s smile became unbearably fond.
“You wrote ten reasons denying it.”
“That does not indicate ignorance. It indicates resistance.”
Bianca finally laughed.
A small, surprised sound.
“So Enid is challenging me because I correctly identified that Wednesday was in love with her.”
“Yes,” Enid said.
“And if you win?”
“Wednesday takes your name off the list.”
Wednesday placed her cup down.
“I agreed to no such terms.”
Enid turned toward her.
Her eyes widened slightly.
Not fully.
A measured application of ocular influence.
Wednesday recognised it.
Her jaw tightened.
“No.”
“Wends.”
“No.”
“You said Bianca’s intervention was proportionate.”
“It was.”
“So she deserves her honour restored.”
“Her honour was never damaged.”
Bianca rested her chin against one hand.
“Being on a potential murder list feels mildly damaging.”
“You continue to live.”
“For now.”
Enid touched Wednesday’s wrist beneath the table.
Only two fingers.
Warm.
The tail curled around Wednesday’s ankle.
Wednesday stared at her breakfast.
This was coercion.
Pack-based.
Visual.
Tactile.
Possibly romantic.
“Fine,” Wednesday said.
Enid brightened.
Bianca’s eyebrows rose.
Wednesday added, “If you defeat Bianca in a regulation fencing match, I will consider removing her name.”
“Consider?”
Enid frowned.
Wednesday looked at her.
Enid looked back.
The eyes.
The tail.
The fingers at Wednesday’s wrist.
Wednesday sighed.
“I will remove it.”
Bianca leaned back.
“This is absurd.”
“You don’t have to accept,” Enid said.
The challenge in her voice was immediate.
Bianca’s gaze sharpened.
Enid’s mouth curved.
Wednesday recognised what was happening.
Two predators had noticed one another.
Bianca tapped one finger against her cup.
“You’ve only been training for a few months.”
Enid’s tail moved.
“I know.”
“I’ve fenced for years.”
“I know.”
“You want to risk public humiliation to protect my honour?”
Enid considered.
“Yes.”
Bianca laughed.
Not mockingly.
Genuinely delighted.
“All right, Sinclair.”
Enid’s face lit.
“Really?”
“You challenged me in front of half the school. Refusing would damage the honour you’re so determined to restore.”
Yoko looked between them.
“Is this happening now?”
“After breakfast,” Bianca said.
Enid nodded.
“Fencing hall.”
Ajax sat up.
“Can we watch?”
Wednesday looked at him.
“No.”
Enid said, “Yes.”
Wednesday turned toward her.
Enid smiled.
“You’re watching.”
“I have watched you fence repeatedly.”
“You’ve fenced against me.”
“There is a difference only in perspective.”
“That’s the point.”
Enid leaned closer.
Her voice dropped low enough that only Wednesday should have heard.
The entire table leaned in anyway.
Enid noticed and leaned closer still, lips near Wednesday’s ear.
“I want to show off.”
Wednesday went very still.
Enid’s voice softened.
“You’re always duelling with me, so you’ve never actually watched me duel someone else.”
Wednesday looked at her.
Enid’s cheeks had pinked, but the smile remained.
“I want you to see what you taught me.”
Wednesday’s pulse changed.
Enid’s nose twitched.
Wednesday’s eyes narrowed.
“Do not.”
“I didn’t say anything.”
“You smelled something.”
“I’m going to make you proud.”
The statement entered Wednesday’s chest and disrupted several essential processes.
Wednesday looked toward Bianca.
Bianca had clearly heard enough to understand.
Her smile turned knowing.
Wednesday pointed one finger across the table.
“Do not.”
Bianca’s eyebrow rose.
The doomed one.
The reason for the duel.
“I didn’t say anything.”
Wednesday stood.
“Breakfast is over.”
Enid looked at her half-finished pancakes.
“I’m still eating.”
Wednesday sat again.
No one commented.
The restraint at the table became heroic.
Twenty-seven minutes later, the fencing hall was full.
Not officially.
No announcement had been made.
But Nevermore operated through gossip with the speed and efficiency of a predatory nervous system.
By the time Enid and Bianca changed into practice gear, Yoko, Divina, Ajax, Eugene, Agnes, three first-year werewolves, four sirens, two vampires, and several students claiming to have entered by accident occupied the benches.
Thing sat on the scoring table holding a pencil.
Wednesday stood beside him.
She had refused to sit.
Sitting suggested leisure.
This was assessment.
Her arms were folded.
Her expression revealed nothing.
Enid emerged first.
White fencing jacket.
Black breeches.
Pink socks visible above her shoes.
Wednesday looked at the socks.
Enid followed her gaze.
“Luck.”
“Colour does not influence probability.”
“You looked.”
“I noticed an assault.”
Enid grinned.
Her tail was not visible.
This was probably fortunate.
It would have become entangled in equipment or struck a spectator unconscious.
Bianca entered from the opposite door.
Controlled.
Confident.
Foil held loosely in one hand.
She had the composure of someone expecting a pleasant exhibition rather than a genuine threat.
Wednesday observed this.
Bianca was underestimating Enid.
Reasonable.
Incorrect.
Enid had trained for only a few months.
But those months had involved Wednesday.
Wednesday did not teach recreationally.
She taught as though every lesson might decide whether Enid survived an assassination attempt before dinner.
Footwork until Enid’s legs trembled.
Parries repeated until they became instinct.
Lunges corrected by fractions.
Strength stripped out of movements that required finesse.
Patience imposed through consequences.
Enid had complained.
Growled.
Sweated.
Occasionally threatened to eat the foil.
She had also learned.
Quickly.
The wolf gave her reflexes.
Wednesday had given those reflexes discipline.
Enid approached Wednesday before taking position.
Her mask rested beneath one arm.
The bright confidence had softened.
“You’ll watch?”
Wednesday looked at her.
“I am standing in a fencing hall facing the strip.”
“Not the floor.”
Wednesday’s jaw tightened.
Enid smiled.
“Or Bianca.”
“Why would I watch Bianca?”
The answer escaped without review.
Enid’s eyes widened.
Then warmed.
Her smile became radiant.
Wednesday looked away.
“Take your position.”
Enid put on her mask.
Then, before turning, whispered, “Favourite nightmare.”
Wednesday’s pulse misbehaved.
Thing tapped his pencil against the scoring table.
Wednesday looked at him.
He drew one tally mark.
She allowed it.
Enid and Bianca took their places.
The room settled.
Coach Vlad had been persuaded to referee after Bianca informed him the match concerned honour, reputation, and the removal of her name from a potential homicide document.
He had asked no further questions.
Nevermore faculty valued initiative.
“First to fifteen,” he said. “Standard rules. No claws, fangs, siren song, or improvised psychological warfare.”
Bianca glanced toward Wednesday.
“Does the audience count?”
“No,” Coach Vlad said.
Wednesday approved.
Masks lowered.
Foils raised.
“Fence.”
Bianca moved first.
Fast.
A clean advance.
Testing distance.
Enid retreated.
Her back foot landed precisely.
No crossing.
No loss of balance.
Wednesday watched.
Enid’s blade met Bianca’s.
A quick parry.
Bianca disengaged.
Lunged.
Enid moved late.
The tip touched her shoulder.
The light flashed.
“Point, Barclay.”
Bianca stepped back.
Enid reset.
No frustration.
No wild counterattack.
Good.
Bianca expected one.
Wednesday saw it in the shift of her stance.
Enid had always relied on immediate response when they began training.
Loss produced aggression.
Aggression produced openings.
Wednesday had removed the habit through repetition and bruises.
“Fence.”
Bianca advanced again.
Enid held.
Waited.
Their blades touched.
Bianca pressed.
Enid disengaged beneath.
Not quickly enough.
Bianca recovered.
Another point.
Two-nil.
Ajax shifted on the bench.
“Is this bad?”
Yoko elbowed him.
“Quiet.”
Wednesday did not move.
Enid glanced toward her.
Only once.
Through the mask.
Wednesday held her gaze.
No reassurance.
No concern.
Only expectation.
Enid turned back.
“Fence.”
This time, Enid advanced.
Measured.
The first step light.
The second faster.
Bianca parried.
Enid disengaged.
Bianca countered.
Enid anticipated.
Changed line.
Lunged.
The scoring light flashed.
“Point, Sinclair.”
The werewolves on the bench cheered.
Enid recovered immediately.
No celebration.
Wednesday’s chest tightened with satisfaction.
Good.
Bianca’s posture changed.
Subtle.
The amusement remained, but concentration entered beneath it.
She had felt Enid’s speed.
“Fence.”
The fourth exchange lasted longer.
Blade against blade.
Enid pressed too hard.
Bianca used the force to draw her off line.
Enid recovered before the opening became a point.
Wednesday’s eyes narrowed with approval.
Enid retreated.
Bianca followed.
Enid allowed herself to be pushed toward the end of the strip.
Ajax whispered, “She’s trapped.”
“No,” Wednesday said.
Everyone near her went silent.
Enid’s rear foot reached the warning line.
Bianca lunged.
Enid moved.
Not backward.
Sideways.
A narrow evasion Wednesday had made her practise until Enid accused the fencing hall of moving beneath her.
Bianca’s blade passed beside Enid’s ribs.
Enid turned her wrist.
Touched Bianca’s chest.
Light.
“Point, Sinclair.”
Two-two.
Bianca lifted her mask.
For one second.
Looked at Enid.
Enid lifted hers too.
Her cheeks were already flushed.
Bianca smiled.
“You’ve improved.”
Enid’s grin appeared.
“Wednesday’s terrifying.”
“I know.”
Wednesday’s expression remained blank.
The corner of her mouth threatened movement.
Thing noticed.
He raised the pencil.
Wednesday placed one hand over it.
“No.”
The match resumed.
Bianca scored.
Then Enid.
Bianca twice.
Enid twice.
Five-five.
The hall grew quieter as the spectators realised this was not an exhibition.
Enid was not surviving Bianca.
She was matching her.
Not perfectly.
Bianca possessed experience Enid could not manufacture in months.
Her distance control was sharper.
Her blade work more economical.
She read traps quickly.
But Enid had speed.
Strength restrained into precision.
Reflexes that made some attacks appear to slow before reaching her.
And Wednesday’s training.
Wednesday watched every correction emerge.
The lowered shoulder.
The relaxed grip.
The rear heel placed correctly.
The patience before a counter.
Enid heard Wednesday even when Wednesday said nothing.
At seven-six to Bianca, Enid made an error.
She chased a failed attack.
Bianca punished it.
Eight-six.
Wednesday’s jaw tightened.
Enid glanced over.
Wednesday lifted two fingers.
A gesture used in training.
Reset.
Breathe.
Centre.
Enid’s shoulders lowered.
She nodded.
Bianca saw the exchange.
Her eyebrow lifted behind the mask.
Wednesday stared until it lowered.
“Fence.”
Enid stopped chasing.
The next point came through patience.
Bianca searched for the blade.
Enid denied it.
Waited.
Allowed Bianca to commit.
Then struck.
Eight-seven.
Then eight-eight.
Bianca scored the ninth.
Enid answered.
Nine-nine.
The room erupted after every light now.
Eugene had abandoned his book completely.
Ajax gripped the edge of the bench.
Divina shouted encouragement.
Yoko pretended not to, then shouted louder than anyone when Enid executed a clean counter-parry.
Agnes sat beside Thing with both hands pressed beneath her chin.
Bianca took the tenth point.
Then the eleventh.
Enid stood at the centre of the strip, breathing hard.
Eleven-nine.
Bianca relaxed by one degree.
Wednesday noticed.
So did Enid.
“Fence.”
Enid advanced with deliberate clumsiness.
A fraction too broad.
An apparent return to her old reliance on force.
Bianca reacted.
Accepted the invitation.
Enid withdrew the pressure.
Changed line.
Her foil struck Bianca’s shoulder.
Eleven-ten.
Bianca stepped back.
Enid’s mask hid her face.
Wednesday knew she was smiling.
She had taught Enid that trap.
Used it on her repeatedly.
Enid had hated it.
Now she had made it her own.
Wednesday’s mouth moved.
A small curve.
Real.
Brief.
Pride made visible before she could stop it.
Thing froze.
Agnes saw.
Yoko saw.
Divina saw.
Bianca saw from the strip.
Enid did not.
Her back was turned while she returned to position.
Bianca lifted her mask.
She looked directly at Wednesday.
The smile was gone by then.
Mostly.
Bianca’s eyebrow rose.
Wednesday pointed one finger toward her.
“Focus.”
Bianca chuckled and lowered her mask.
The score climbed.
Eleven-eleven.
Twelve-eleven, Bianca.
Twelve-twelve.
Thirteen-twelve, Enid.
The hall became unbearable.
Ajax had begun whispering the score after every point despite the large illuminated board displaying it above his head.
Eugene whispered, “She might actually win.”
Wednesday looked at Enid.
“She intends to.”
The confidence in her voice made Yoko glance over.
Wednesday ignored her.
Bianca levelled.
Thirteen-thirteen.
Coach Vlad called a brief halt after Enid’s mask strap loosened.
Enid removed it.
Her hair was damp at the temples.
Her breathing quick.
Her eyes bright with effort and exhilaration.
Wednesday walked to the edge of the strip.
Enid approached.
“Am I doing okay?”
The question was absurd.
Wednesday looked at her.
Enid knew she was doing well.
She wanted something else.
The same thing she had wanted before the match.
Wednesday to see.
Wednesday reached forward and tightened the strap.
Her fingers brushed Enid’s hair.
Enid went still.
“You are dropping your front shoulder when fatigued,” Wednesday said.
Enid nodded.
“And Bianca is attempting to control the final exchange through distance.”
Another nod.
“Make her believe she has.”
Enid’s eyes warmed.
Wednesday adjusted the strap once more.
Then said, quietly enough for Enid alone, “Your performance is exceptional.”
Enid stopped breathing.
Wednesday withdrew her hands.
The tail was not visible, but Enid’s entire body somehow wagged.
“Exceptional?”
“Do not make me retract it.”
Enid smiled.
“Are you proud of me?”
Wednesday’s first instinct was defence.
A clinical phrase.
A correction.
Something less exposed.
Then she remembered Enid in the quad.
The torn plan.
The question beneath every question.
Am I enough?
Wednesday looked directly into her eyes.
“Yes.”
Enid’s expression changed.
The joy was immediate and unguarded.
Wednesday felt it strike beneath her ribs.
She added, “Now finish it.”
Enid lowered her mask.
Returned to position.
Bianca waited.
Through the mesh, her gaze shifted from Enid to Wednesday.
She had heard.
Possibly.
Siren hearing was not enhanced.
Bianca was simply invasive.
“Ready?” Coach Vlad asked.
Both raised their blades.
“Fence.”
Bianca took control immediately.
Advance.
Pressure.
Search.
Enid gave ground.
Not panicked.
Not rushed.
One step.
Another.
Bianca accelerated.
Enid’s front shoulder began to lift.
Then lowered.
Wednesday saw the correction.
Bianca attacked.
Enid parried.
Bianca disengaged.
Enid countered.
Both lights flashed.
The hall exploded.
Coach Vlad raised one hand.
“Attack, Barclay. Point, Barclay.”
Fourteen-thirteen.
Match point.
Bianca removed her mask briefly and exhaled.
Enid rolled one shoulder.
Wednesday remained still.
No disappointment.
No fear.
Only attention.
Enid looked at her.
Wednesday gave the smallest nod.
Enid faced Bianca again.
“Fence.”
Bianca waited this time.
She wanted Enid to come.
Enid advanced.
Carefully.
Their blades met.
Separated.
Bianca searched for contact.
Enid denied it.
A second engagement.
Bianca attempted to draw the attack.
Enid did not take it.
Wednesday’s pride expanded painfully.
Patience.
The most difficult lesson.
Enid waited.
Bianca shifted her weight.
A tiny preparation.
Enid saw.
Bianca lunged.
Enid parried in fourth.
Clean.
Strong.
She riposted.
The light flashed.
“Point, Sinclair.”
Fourteen-fourteen.
The noise became feral.
The werewolves howled.
The sirens shouted.
Ajax stood on the bench until Yoko pulled him down.
Thing tapped the pencil against the scoring table like a drumstick.
Wednesday watched Enid reset.
One point.
Bianca’s composure remained, but the chuckle had vanished.
She respected the threat now.
This mattered to Enid.
Wednesday knew.
Not merely winning.
Being recognised.
Bianca saluted her.
Enid returned it.
Final point.
“Fence.”
Neither rushed.
They circled through advances and retreats, measuring.
Bianca searched.
Enid answered.
Their blades struck hard enough to ring through the hall.
Enid pressed.
Bianca disengaged.
Enid followed.
Too far.
Wednesday saw the opening.
So did Bianca.
Bianca attacked Enid’s exposed line.
Enid twisted.
Her body moved with wolf speed, but the blade moved with Wednesday’s discipline.
A counter-parry.
Bianca recovered.
Enid did not lunge.
Not yet.
She waited half a heartbeat.
Bianca expected immediate force.
Prepared for it.
Enid changed tempo.
Then attacked.
One clean extension.
Front knee bent.
Rear heel anchored.
Shoulder low.
Wrist straight.
The scoring light flashed.
Only one.
Silence held for a fraction of a second.
Coach Vlad lifted his hand.
“Point and match, Sinclair.”
The hall detonated.
Enid tore off her mask.
Her face was stunned.
Then radiant.
She looked at the scoreboard.
Fifteen-fourteen.
Then at Bianca.
Then immediately at Wednesday.
Not the cheering students.
Not the werewolves howling her name.
Wednesday.
She had won for Bianca’s honour.
But she had performed for Wednesday.
Wednesday looked back.
The smile escaped before she could contain it.
Small.
Proud.
Unmistakable.
The entire hall saw.
Enid saw.
Her expression became incandescent.
Her tail appeared with such force it seemed summoned by joy itself.
It began wagging hard enough to strike the back of her legs.
Wednesday’s smile deepened by one treacherous degree.
Enid crossed the strip at speed.
Wednesday braced.
Enid stopped just short of colliding with her.
Barely.
“You smiled.”
“No.”
“You did.”
“Exertion has impaired your vision.”
“You’re proud of me.”
“I already confirmed this.”
Enid’s eyes widened again as though hearing it a second time mattered just as much.
“You’re really proud?”
Wednesday looked at her.
Sweaty.
Breathless.
Hair escaping in every direction.
Eyes bright.
Foil still in one hand.
Victory sitting visibly across her entire body.
“Yes.”
Enid kissed her.
In the fencing hall.
In front of everyone.
Quickly.
A bright collision against Wednesday’s mouth before Enid apparently remembered public survival.
She pulled back.
Wednesday stared.
The hall went silent.
Enid’s face turned pink.
“I got excited.”
Wednesday took the foil from her hand.
Placed it on the scoring table.
Then caught Enid by the jacket and kissed her properly.
The hall erupted again.
Thing added a tally mark.
Bianca removed her mask and stood at the far end of the strip, breathing hard and laughing.
When Wednesday released Enid, the tail was striking the floor like a weapon.
Wednesday looked toward Bianca.
Bianca approached.
Enid turned to her.
For one second, uncertainty entered her face.
Bianca held out her hand.
Enid took it.
Bianca pulled her into a brief, firm embrace.
“You are alarmingly good.”
Enid laughed.
“Wednesday’s terrifying.”
“I noticed.”
Bianca stepped back.
Her smile was warm but competitive.
“You also set me up with her own trap.”
Enid’s grin became proud.
“She used it on me for two weeks.”
“And you hated it.”
“So much.”
Wednesday approached.
Bianca looked at her.
“Before you say anything, your girlfriend won fairly.”
Wednesday’s pulse reacted to the word girlfriend.
Enid’s tail reacted more violently.
Wednesday ignored both.
“She did.”
Bianca’s eyebrows rose.
“No qualification?”
“Her shoulder dropped twice. She chased one attack and allowed you to control distance during the middle period.”
Enid’s smile faded slightly.
Wednesday continued, “She corrected each error.”
The smile returned.
“Her final attack was precisely timed.”
Enid glowed.
“And,” Wednesday added, looking directly at Bianca, “you underestimated her.”
Bianca laughed.
“Yes, I did.”
She looked at Enid.
“I won’t again.”
Enid straightened.
The respect in the words mattered.
Wednesday could see it.
Bianca turned back to Wednesday.
“So?”
Wednesday’s expression flattened.
“So what?”
“My honour.”
Enid stepped closer.
“And the list.”
The spectators quieted again.
This had apparently become a formal proceeding.
Wednesday looked between them.
Bianca waited.
Enid’s tail wagged.
Thing held up a small notepad that read:
REMOVE BIANCA?
Wednesday sighed.
“You have all developed an unhealthy interest in my private records.”
Bianca smiled.
“Do I remain on the list?”
Wednesday reached into the inner pocket of her jacket.
Enid blinked.
Bianca’s eyes widened.
Wednesday removed a folded piece of paper.
Yoko whispered, “She carries it?”
Divina whispered back, “Of course she carries it.”
Wednesday unfolded the page.
At the top:
PEOPLE WHO HAVE CORRECTLY IDENTIFIED SOMETHING AND MUST THEREFORE BE SILENCED
Bianca Barclay occupied the first line.
And the second.
And a note in the margin.
Excessive perception. Repeated offences. Eyebrow.
Bianca leaned closer.
“You added my eyebrow as a separate offence?”
“It acts independently.”
Enid tried not to laugh.
Failed.
Wednesday took out a pen.
She drew one line through Bianca’s name.
The hall applauded.
Wednesday looked up.
Everyone stopped.
Mostly.
Bianca read the page.
“You crossed it out.”
“Yes.”
“You didn’t remove it.”
“Paper retains evidence.”
“That was not the agreement.”
Enid folded her arms.
“Wends.”
Wednesday looked at her.
The eyes.
The post-victory glow.
The tail.
The mouth she had just kissed.
Wednesday’s resistance lasted approximately one second.
She tore the strip containing Bianca’s name from the page.
Bianca accepted it.
Held it up.
“My honour is restored.”
Ajax cheered.
Yoko clapped.
Divina bowed from the waist.
Eugene declared, “Justice.”
Agnes took a photograph.
Visible this time.
Wednesday looked at her.
“Delete that.”
“No.”
Bianca folded the strip and tucked it inside her jacket.
Wednesday’s eyes narrowed.
“What are you doing?”
“Preserving evidence.”
Enid laughed.
Wednesday looked at her.
Enid’s expression softened.
“Thank you.”
“For what?”
“Watching.”
Wednesday’s chest tightened.
Enid stepped closer.
“Usually you’re on the other side of the foil trying to kill me.”
“I have never attempted to kill you during fencing.”
“You say ‘dead’ a lot.”
“You leave openings.”
“But today you got to see me.”
Wednesday looked at her.
The statement carried more weight than the match.
She saw Enid.
Always.
That had never been the difficulty.
The difficulty was allowing Enid to know.
Wednesday reached up and moved one damp strand of hair from Enid’s forehead.
The hall became offensively quiet.
“You were magnificent,” Wednesday said.
Enid stopped breathing.
Bianca’s eyebrow rose.
Wednesday saw it from the corner of her eye.
“Your name can be returned to the list.”
Bianca immediately lowered it.
Enid’s tail struck Wednesday’s leg repeatedly.
“You said magnificent.”
“I may revise the finding if you become repetitive.”
“Magnificent.”
“Enid.”
“You called me magnificent.”
“You defeated a superior opponent through discipline, adaptation, and tactical patience.”
Bianca placed one hand against her chest.
“Superior?”
“In experience.”
Bianca nodded.
“I’ll accept that.”
Wednesday’s gaze remained on Enid.
“You wanted to show off.”
Enid’s cheeks pinked.
“Maybe.”
“You succeeded.”
Enid smiled.
Bright.
Open.
Enough to make Wednesday forget there were other people in the hall.
Then Enid leaned closer and whispered, “Can I show off for you again sometime?”
Wednesday’s eyes dropped to her mouth.
The room disappeared for one dangerous second.
“Yes,” she said.
Enid’s nose twitched.
Her grin became wicked.
Wednesday recognised the double meaning too late.
“That is not what I meant.”
“Sure, favourite nightmare.”
Wednesday caught her chin before she could retreat.
Enid’s pupils widened.
The tail accelerated.
Behind them, Bianca unfolded the strip of paper and showed it to Divina.
Divina whispered, “You’re framing that.”
“Obviously.”
Yoko leaned over.
“Your honour looks tiny.”
Bianca folded it again.
“My honour survived Wednesday Addams and was restored through trial by combat. It is priceless.”
Ajax looked at Enid.
“So does this mean Bianca can raise her eyebrow again?”
Wednesday answered before Enid could.
“No.”
Bianca raised it.
Enid laughed.
Wednesday reached for the remaining list.
Bianca ran.
Divina followed.
Yoko shouted.
Ajax moved out of the way too late and was nearly knocked over.
Eugene rescued the scoring equipment.
Agnes vanished.
Thing grabbed the torn strip from Bianca’s hand as she passed and held it aloft like a victory banner.
Enid watched the chaos she had created.
Then looked at Wednesday.
Wednesday looked back.
Enid’s eyes shone.
“Was your honour restored too?” Wednesday asked.
Enid blinked.
“My honour?”
“You challenged Bianca partly to remove her from my list.”
“Yeah.”
“But you also wanted to prove what you could do.”
Enid’s smile became smaller.
More vulnerable.
“I wanted you to see I’m good.”
Wednesday stepped closer.
“You have nothing to prove to me.”
Enid looked down.
“I know.”
The answer sounded like she wanted to believe it.
Wednesday touched two fingers beneath her chin and lifted her face.
“You are good enough when you lose.”
Enid’s eyes widened.
“When you make mistakes.”
The tail slowed.
“When you are loud.”
Enid’s breath caught.
“When you are frightened, restless, inconvenient, excessively colourful, or incapable of controlling your appendage.”
The tail wagged.
Enid’s eyes filled slightly.
Wednesday’s thumb moved once against her jaw.
“You do not need victory to earn my attention.”
Enid swallowed.
“But?”
Wednesday almost smiled.
“But watching you defeat Bianca was deeply satisfying.”
Enid laughed through the sudden tears.
“You’re really proud.”
“Yes.”
“Still?”
“Painfully.”
Enid kissed her again.
This one was softer.
No cheering.
Most of the room was occupied with Bianca attempting to recover her honour from Thing while Wednesday’s list fluttered through the air behind them.
Enid’s hands settled at Wednesday’s waist.
Wednesday rested one hand against the back of her neck.
When they separated, Enid’s forehead remained against hers.
“I love you,” Enid whispered.
Wednesday looked at her.
Sweaty.
Happy.
Magnificent.
“I am aware.”
Enid waited.
Wednesday sighed.
“I love you too.”
The tail knocked a fencing mask off the table.
Wednesday closed her eyes.
“Your victory has changed nothing about the appendage.”
Enid grinned.
“It’s proud of me too.”
“It did nothing.”
“It provided emotional support.”
“It endangered spectators.”
“Pack support.”
Wednesday looked across the hall.
Bianca had recovered the strip.
Thing had stolen it again.
Yoko and Divina were taking Bianca’s side.
Ajax was attempting mediation.
Eugene had begun keeping score.
Agnes flickered in and out of visibility while changing allegiance according to who was currently winning.
Wednesday looked back at Enid.
“The duel has created wider instability.”
Enid tucked herself against Wednesday’s side.
“You loved it.”
Wednesday placed one arm around her.
“For research.”
Enid smiled.
“Of course.”
At the far end of the hall, Bianca finally reclaimed the torn strip and lifted it above her head.
“My honour!”
Thing climbed onto Yoko’s shoulder and signed furiously.
Yoko translated.
“He says Enid restored your honour, but he reserves the right to question your eyebrow.”
Bianca looked toward Wednesday.
Wednesday gave one slow nod.
Bianca sighed.
“Fine.”
She lowered the eyebrow.
Enid laughed so hard she leaned fully into Wednesday.
Wednesday held her upright.
Automatically.
Proudly.
The word was no longer difficult.
Not when Enid had earned nothing that had not already been hers.
Wednesday’s attention.
Her place.
Her love.
The duel had only allowed Enid to see what everyone else had witnessed the moment the final light flashed.
Wednesday Addams smiled when Enid Sinclair won.
Not because Bianca had lost.
Not because a name had been removed from a list.
Because Enid had stood on the strip with everything Wednesday had taught her and made it entirely her own.
And for once, Wednesday had not been required to fight her.
She had only been required to watch.
It was, she discovered, almost as dangerous.