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The cheerful and enjoyable heat of a summer day was as inviting as Briar could remember, so many things seemed to happen outside of Ever After High’s walls. She didn’t wish for a day to be there and through the windows, she sought for an escape looking outside to a place so far: back at the castle where her little brothers would do any mess possible, her dad made up any kind of excuse to throw a party and she never doubted if she really knew what it means to be a princess. Straight posture, the slightest care just to move the arms to gesticulate, kindly smiling on the right occasions and all those things she knew all too well, however, interpreting the questions from the White Queen was a whole another challenge. As her name suggests, the teacher knew how to be colorless and heartless when it meant exams throw against the “to be princess”.
Thanks to a disastrous final result in Princessology, the return to campus happened a week earlier than usual. Few students were seen, who belonged to a minority that never returned to their hometowns or to the majority that failed some subject. Beauty didn’t pay attention to the route she had to take to her summer exam; she tried so many times — unsuccessfully — to talk with the teacher about some doubts she had, that doing this route became automatic. That classroom, the first to the left taking the stairs to the first floor, was just one in between a sea of other classes, but the only direction her own frustration allowed her to remember.
Although she wasn’t the only one in that situation, she had the lowest score in her class and because of it, a deep voice inside her head remained haunting her with the thought of how she would, or if she could, recover from that. The desks had the same arrangement as usual, the princess could even recognize those where her friends usually sat, and with certainty, they barely would need to study to pass if they needed to. This assumption was obvious and got her in a whiff of discouragement. What was that “easy” logic behind all those concepts that only she seemed to not see?
Five minutes of tolerance preceded the beginning of the evaluation. The White Queen developed a certain appreciation for her last test, so the thirty-minute exam remained. In an attempt to optimize her time, Beauty read the question and simply wrote anything and everything her mind could remember. Even so, those minutes passed as if they were seconds and her pom-pom pen started to get heavy on her hands, harming the calligraphy that was supposed to be beautiful.
A quick relief mixed with the uneasiness as she realized that this time she could at least answer all the questions. Nothing could distract the princess, she had her answers and her tasks on lock, but suddenly, the blue ink and the white paper didn’t contrast anymore. The day became night in an instant. If it wasn’t for the slight light that slipped through the window, she couldn’t even see her own hands.
Briar immediately stared at the White Queen, in search of a sprinkle of mercy that didn’t come:
“Proceed.” She said it, as if she was more interested in observing the distant mountains than feeling the hopelessness coming from the students.
Those mountains remained the same since the first day the White Queen came to give classes in Ever After High, but anything was more relevant to her than half a dozen girls who were praying to anything just for the lights to go back on. For an instant, Briar considered giving up. To soothe those thoughts, she looked up at the ceiling, but the only thing she saw were subtle blue sparkles around the lamps as something messed with them.
The result came as soon as the test ended. A little line appeared beside the White Queen’s extremely polished desk, who marked with a big and bright red pen all the mistakes as if she was slashing it and letting it bleed. Most of the students finally allowed themselves to smile again because of the good score. Briar wasn’t so lucky.
“Some light would’ve made the difference.” Briar thought out loud.
“Miss Beauty, if you don’t want to understand, there is no light or darkness that could help you.” The princess for once could decipher what the teacher said. Mrs. White Queen was a Wonderlandian after all, so she had to talk in riddlish where it absolutely wasn’t needed.
A confused look as well as the urge to leave that classroom formed in her, or better, to get away as quickly as possible from someone who now seemed so arrogant. What had she done to deserve this? Had she irritated her in some way? Gave answers so ignorant like that? It wasn’t as if she was trying to. Her head swayed sideways almost involuntarily. Every syllable said by the teacher reverberated in her ears, in the midst of a mix between anger and anguish as she made her way to her locker.
Beauty was putting the pens away when she noticed Baba Yaga giving an extensive sermon to someone familiar. Soon all the pieces came together. In a quick glance with the culprit for the blackout, the angst was engulfed by anger as the locker’s door shut abruptly, sounding a lot louder than expected. Briar didn’t give a hex. Still with her forehead frowned, she decided to not leave her dormitory for the rest of the day, even the week, if she could.
A couple of suitcases to be dismantled still rested alongside the princess’ bed, while the other half of the room was intact, almost divinely immune to disorder. Ashlynn, in some way, found some time on the final week of the semester to organize everything before leaving for vacation. The dresser that the shoe-crazy-princess had decorated with photos of her best friends for Ever After was so organized that even the perfumes were lined up, accordingly with her usage. The mirror, however showing a tiny layer of dust, did not hide a sight Briar wasn’t prepared to see. Her hair was wavy and perfect as usual, the pink hair strands still shining almost as the day she got them, all accessories in place and not a wrinkle could be seen in her dress. Still, she didn’t recognize any of it and could only come to one conclusion: she couldn’t be worse.
Sleeping until dawn seemed the best thing to do, but even the thing she knew all her life how to do, she didn’t have the will or the strength to. In the contrary, Briar was so angry that she couldn’t even close her eyes shut. All those things persisted in tormenting her: the words from the teacher and her chance being taken from her because of some stupid dark magic. She crossed her arms, pressing her nails against her skin involuntarily, martyrizing herself for not being able to forget what had happened. After some time, trying to push those thoughts away, she realized that occupying her head with something else wouldn’t let that martyrdom looping happen again. The biggest suitcase was opened and soon, all those meticulously folded clothes appeared over her bed, waiting to discover which drawer they would be thrown.
In a quick remembrance that the dorms floor was basically empty, Beauty didn’t think twice about putting her cellphone speaker in the loudest volume. The agitated rhythm of the music amplified her concentration, constructing some other reality that only her clothes deserved attention. Not even some knocks on the door could retrieve her from that electropop trance. Someone had to knock at least three to four times at the door for the princess to notice and get a sense that maybe she needed to lower the volume, certain she would be reprehended by that. Mama Bear was the one Briar could bet she would see at the door, knocking heavily with an expression that not even Blondie Lockes dare to stare. Those huge and fuzzy paws were not a joke. The one she encountered, however, had two pairs of open wings and a cynical smile on the lips.
“What are you doing here?” Briar firmly asked, before Faybelle could even think about what to say.
“Only checking in, it seems that some distressed princess is so scared of the dark that I could not feel pity about it.”
“I am not scared at all.”
“That’s a shame.”
The smile flipped, forming a look capable of inviting someone to tell all their problems and then rest between those compassionate arms. To add even more to the spectacle, Thorn positioned her hand on Briar’s shoulder, who could only react by holding firmly the fairy’s wrist. Just by touching her, Beauty finally realized that she had easily fallen in another of the rival’s games. Briar knew all too well the rules, enough to know that she could not let her pawn fall into Faybelle’s hand. But she was so mad! The game board was flipped, all the pieces were falling over the floor and Faybelle repositioned everything. More than ever, the princess needed some advantage over her.
“I’m the one feeling pity, seeing how desperate you are to get my attention.” Briar said, as she pulled the fairy even closer, without an opening for an escape.
“Looks like it’s working.”
Briar’s gaze went to a place where she couldn’t see Faybelle. She was again burning in anger, as if there were a thousand suns in her chest, only by the reminiscence of what Thorn had done to the lights earlier. And just once, she supplicated for her rationality to return. Because of this, the cynical smile reappeared, followed by a self-confidence that the princess hadn’t ever seen. The fairy maintained the proximity, particularly more interested in switching her attention between Beauty’s hand on her wrist and those pink lips. Pinkish and shiny lips as candy coated in a sweet sugar dream. Tempted in discovering how it tasted, the princess did the favor to give into Thorn’s obvious desire, thinking that was enough to shoo the fairy away from her door.
“A box of chocolates is a more appropriate strategy to get a kiss, don’t you know?”
The irony, being more a characteristic of Faybelle, was the princess’ attempt to counterattack as she moved away.
“I would never.”
“Get out of here, Faybelle!” Briar finally lost her patience.
“Out of here?” Thorn questioned, as she overlapped her hand over Briar’s at the door handle. “Are you sure?”
Briar wasn’t sure about a lot of things, only knew, at this point, how much she hated Faybelle. That overlapping didn’t take long to make her come closer and with such foolish consent, she theorized that she hated herself even more. During another kiss at the corridor, she let all those confusing feelings overflow, wishing for all of it to soon disappear. Suddenly, her hands grasped firmly in Faybelle’s cape collar, at first to take control, later simply because she didn’t want to stop kissing her.
What a mess her mind became! Searching for anyone to blame the whole day to justify her own slips, in that instant Beauty failed to comprehend why, in the first place, her heart eagerly asked for this. She didn’t even know if it was afternoon or late at night. And before someone could catch them red-handed, she pulled Faybelle inside the dorm and pushed her with all her strength against the bed. Thorn didn’t seem to care. Supporting her weight with her elbows, she followed with her eyes all the moves the princess made. Only when Briar was closer than ever, with her body over her own, did she finally admit.
“I really thought in apologizing.”
“Don’t start…”
“I am serious, my magic backfired.”
For once, she really seemed sorry about what she had done.
“Stop, stop!” The princess frowned, pressing her eyelids in denial.
She would’ve gotten up if Faybelle hadn’t kissed her again. It didn’t last that long:
“Ah!” The fairy let it slip as she felt a strong bite on her lower lip.
“Stop talking nonsense and just let me hate you!”
The last word surprised Faybelle, printing out on her face the greatest joy as she checked if she wasn’t bleeding. In a quick reflex that the other couldn’t predict, Thorn suddenly reversed the roles and slid down her hands previously stationed on Briar’s shoulder to her extended arms, blocking any movement she tried to do.
“Hate, huh? Let’s see if you can take mine.”
Briar steadily gazed at her. On any other occasion, she would’ve cursed Faybelle for her boots over the expensive bed sheet, most definitely shaken violently her legs to get Thorn off of her, but only if her heart wasn’t pounding that fast. She was more than ready, more than certain that she wanted to taste that hate, face it with her own as opposite magic particles ready to collide at the speed of light.
Some clothes that once needed to be stored fell over the floor as they kept returning to more kisses between short breaks. Soon the boots and the high heels ended up too at the floor, unpretentiously falling close to each other, the same happened with Faybelle’s laced cape, that joined, with certain urgency, the pink clothes that rested on the ground. Beauty tried not to let a smile slip as she placed her hands over her waist from under the shirt only to notice an equal if not bigger heat than she was feeling. Instead of searching for any reason to not let her pawn be at the fairy’s control, little by little, Briar handed herself over to that as if the world was soon to be over.
The heavy breathing mixed with meaningless and senseless words as she finally got rid of her dress and gave Faybelle the freedom she shouldn’t. Briar was convinced that there was nothing to it until she felt some shivers running across her abdomen and up the back of her arms. In a way to disguise, she tried to press on her legs against each other, only to be stopped by the rival.
“Hex… you’re driving me crazy.”
~
A sudden thermal shock made the princess open her eyes as if she was just resurrected. The first thing she saw was her best friend holding an empty glass of water, with a face worthy of someone who had committed a heinous crime:
“Briar, forgive me, pretty pretty please!” Ashlynn begged, supposing that Briar’s silence was because of pure resentment. “You simply didn’t wake up; I’ve tried everything I could!”
The cold water dripped from Beauty’s face as she slowly sat on her bed to locate where she was and how she was.
“It’s fine.” She blinked a couple of times as the memory of the dream blended with her real dormitory. At first, she felt a void inside as all the adrenaline dissipated, then retracted her legs and pulled the blanket with a sudden wish to make all and herself go poof.
What the hex was that? she thought, as she stared deadly at the greenest eyes she had ever met.
“You are going to sleep again if you don’t get out of this bed.” Ella said, like a big sister. “Let’s go, we are already late for the breakfast.” And insisted with tiny slaps on the duvet, to rush her to get dressed.
Briar would stay inside that hot blanket cocoon, fusing with it all morning if it were up to her. For Ashlynn, though, she did the effort to get out of bed and go straight to the shower, without even whining about her sleepy state. As she opened the wardrobe, being almost ready to leave, Beauty could only think about her friend’s restless feet that discreetly persisted in moving on their own as she waited for Briar to get ready. Noticing those things and those tiny details was natural, a warm-hearted situation if you might say. Ashlynn always worried about keeping her included on everything, even if it disturbed her all-every-after punctuality.
A new semester was just beginning, bringing with it fresh air followed with new and better expectations that spread quickly over all classrooms. Suddenly, even the food from the cafeteria didn’t seem so bad and whatever had happened on vacation seemed like a distant memory. The consequences of the final exams, on the other hand, not exactly. Walking through the corridor before breakfast, Ella commented:
“It was so unfairy what the White Queen had done to you!”
“You know, when I figured that I didn’t make it, It fell absolutely unfairy. But maybe I didn’t take her class that seriously, indeed.”
“This has nothing to do with it, what she said was so unnecessary!”
Briar weakly smiled.
“It’s not easy...” Ashlynn concluded, deviating her gaze to some pixie fairy flying to get some freshly made lily flower nectar.
“Ash, it’s okay!” Beauty shook her head as she talked, incapable of identifying where that torment came from. “If not even a curse can stop me from enjoying my life, do you really think that some classes could?”
“You can keep my notes if you want to.”
“It’s okay, for real!”
A tap on the shoulder of her best friend was the only way she’d found to give some certainty. She wasn’t lying, Ashlynn knew that, but failed to recognize where this came from. Some vivacity, a will almost unbreakable to keep holding on and not waste a single second that Mr. Almighty Time could offer. Persistent, and sometimes even petulant, as a pauper that grips tightly at a king’s feet and sees, in a mere silver coin, their biggest and most valuable treasure.
Briar would soon try again, so only then she would have to think about it. At least she didn’t need to redo all classes again or handle the White Queen’s chess moves every day.
“Well, if it helps you, I’ve found out that teacher Rumpelstiltskin flunked me.” The strawberry blonde rocked her head sideways.
“What?!” Beauty’s mouth did a perfect circle in disbelief.
“What can I say? I don’t even know which of the exams I’ve failed for this to happen.” She shrugged. “I think he doesn’t like my answers or maybe just because he couldn’t hit on my mother, whatever.”
“Our group project turned out so great! And even so…”
Ashlynn kept walking as her best friend held her hand, now building another sentence:
“Next time we will pass and let this fairy fail behind, you will see.”
The little smile from both of them, followed by a shy belief that it was possible, made them suddenly break the mutual hand holding. Briar quickly noticed that they weren’t in the same chapter and considered telling Ashlynn the dream she had about a disastrous summer exam, to at least, make her laugh. But as quickly as this thought appeared, she changed the channels of her mind as a child who didn’t want their parents to know that they were watching on their MirrorTVs: the exam was just a tiny part of it all.
Finally, at the castleteria, they didn’t take long to decide on what they would eat and soon joined the other princesses: Apple, Holly, Darling and Duchess. Since their arrival at Ever After High, they preserved an almost unconscious habit of seating at the same table. Far from the rule that they shouldn’t associate with others in regards of their noble origins, the same schedule and a bunch of things in common made them naturally grow closer.
It was always a pleasure to be together, unless they decided to talk about their respective destinies. Although they were all declared Royals with the most perfect “ever afters” in all campus, each one had their own set of doubts and opinions on what Rebels were not so wrong about. Apple and Duchess were irreducible, as a stone wall built on cement that not even the Big Bad Wolf could shake. On the other hand, Holly and Darling didn’t take part in the fight and Ashlynn only agreed with them to maintain the appearances. It wasn’t necessarily rare that Apple let one or a bunch of thoughts slip because of her eternal disagreement with Raven. Occasionally, by mere evil or by declared resentment, Duchess gave her reason and kept on feeding those harsh feelings, while Briar and Ashlynn would just exchange some complicit glances. Briar was far from wanting to go through the worst her destiny reserved for her, but she didn’t have a choice if Faybelle was so proud about hers. Even so, she fought back, treating the fairy like an insect smashed by her heels. How could she simply let someone curse her?
In this morning, nothing like it came at the table. The chat exclusively concentrated on the expectations of what the semester would be, and Beauty listened more than she talked, as a result of a tasty combination of jam and with a foreign cheese cream that melted as liquid over the toasted bread. The cappuccino was just right, being almost on point in the proportions she liked: the coffee a little more accentuated. Although it wasn’t enough to counter her sudden naps, the intensity of that flavor was enough to make her try again.
Blending with the loud ball of trays and cutlery, the sound of wings flapping gradually stood out and then suddenly stopped, when the owner of them approached Duchess. As a polite and princessly mannerism, they all pretended not to notice, looking away at the empty plates, still intrigued with that presence that was so distinct compared to the ballerina.
“Are you going to show up at Advanced Villainy?” Faybelle asked, holding her waist with one of her hands and with the other holding a bunch of paperwork.
Swan covered her mouth with a handkerchief before talking. “I will, I hate that werewolf, but anyways, I will."
“Hate, huh? Just because you can’t ace his tests.” Thorn affirmed, as she let a folder at her side. In this folder, was a series of old tests that teacher Badwolf once gave, all correctly solved and with the honor that the man himself reviewed them.
Briar’s cheeks acquired a growing blush before she could even notice. “Hate, huh?” It seemed that her whole face was burning, as she remembered things she shouldn’t have and immediately started to pray that nobody was trying magical tricks to read minds. It was certainly difficult for Briar to blush like that, especially, as evident and clear as it was. She was truly hoping that nobody would see, but to her misfortune, Ashlynn wasn’t the only one to notice: Faybelle leaned on the table and swiftly stared with a certain curiosity at her, which was enough to make Beauty wish to disappear out of thin air. Her expression didn’t change a bit, promptly directing her attention at Duchess.
“How did you get this?”
“As the president of the Villains Club, it’s my duty to help the other members to achieve true and excellent evil, as I, the future Darkest Fairy of them all, achieved.” Thorn was with a smile from ear to ear, and the tied hair dangled when she inclined her face.
Duchess ruffled her feathers with that answer, however, knowing her, it was obvious that she was far too happy to really care. When Thorn finally flied away, Darling asked:
“Villains Club? Didn’t know you were a member.”
“The thing is, I am not, she is definitely having a lot of fun hexing with those dweebs and she is trying to convince me to enter as well.” Duchess had some considerable doubts about entering, first by Faybelle’s way of always backfiring with some black magic and in regards of her still-to-be-defined destiny. After eating some melons cube, Swan preferred to change the subject completely. “A little bird told me that we are going to have a party soon…”
Apple pushed gently Briar’s shoulder with her own, the princesses immediately got excited.
“A back-to-school party!”
“Yay!”
“Got to be you, you are not going to let Faybelle take this date as if it was hers, will you?” Apple completed with a wink that not even a blind princess or prince could resist.
And then the conversation ignited, discussing about past events always pointing, unbiasedly, that Briar did it better. Ashlynn too entered the discussion only to give Farrah some credit when the last summer party was brought to light. Duchess agreed only to favor Faybelle and Beauty from the beginning of the conversation, was with her thoughts so far away to even listen to what they were talking.
~
She stayed like that the whole day. Even at night, sustaining her posture, she succeeded at not showing what she was thinking about. But as soon as the mask fell and she decided to break the curfew rule, she remembered a crucial thing: there was no way to escape from her best friend.
“What’s stuck on your mind?”
Briar laughed, as if someone whose plans were just busted. Seating just in front of her dresser, she verified her mascara without a hurry in the world to remove it as usual in her nighttime routine. The robe was tightly secured at her waist; she thought in advance that it wasn’t so appropriate to let her nightgown so noticeable.
“Nothing that a soft bed can’t sort.”
“Really?”
She asked in such an understanding way, and as Briar followed those sweet eyes full of worry and thoughts, she truly considered talking about everything only to confirm that Ashlynn read her so well. Truth was that she couldn’t stop thinking about Faybelle, those fictional words twisting the real meaning of their rivalry. But she couldn’t say a thing, how would she with such embarrassing thing? Even if Ashlynn personified the true form of impartiality, externalizing those thoughts wouldn’t take her anywhere besides regret. Then she would have to lie, deny, deny and deny. To her best friend, to herself. The conflict between Royals and Rebels was more intense than ever, and in theory, the party dispute didn’t fall behind, but she was still trapped on that cynical smile… She definitely had to lie.
“Nothing, seriously.”
Ella finally believed when she saw Beauty adjusting herself at her bed and inside her blankets. A strong and bright light beam coming from the bathroom contrasted with the room’s gloom, serving as a north if they ever wake up in the middle of the night. Briar’s eyes remained close, mentally visualizing that soon the door would be open for a check by Teacher Mama Bear. Her feet, on the contrary, involuntarily fiddled, she wasn’t used to pretending to fall asleep. She never needed it, anyway.
Five minutes was all it took for the floor check to finish, considering that the princess’s dormitory was always one of the last. Another five were needed to walk silently out of the dormitory to Faybelle’s door – only when she was one hundred percent sure that her best friend was sleeping. The subtle current of wind passing by suddenly wrapped around her legs and the coolness made her hesitate. Her head moved sideways as an obvious sign of the anxiety she was feeling only for the thought that someone could see her. Soon she concluded that she had already gone too far to turn back.
As she knocked on the heavy and beautifully detailed wooden door, twice to be exact and with a considerable interval between knocks, Briar bit her own lip. The pressure of her teeth against her lower lip increased as she came to consider that Bunny Blanc, Faybelle’s roommate, could easily answer the door instead. And before she could entirely rationalize the fact that she hadn’t planned what she wanted to say, let alone thought of any lame excuses for her roommate, the door suddenly opened. Enclosed between the shadows, the fairy appeared, still wearing her outfit of the day, with her hair loose and slightly scrunched. A limbo between exceeding her academics responsibilities and surrendering herself to some deserved rest. The black blouse blended with the darkness of the room, making it kind of difficult to discern which is which. Everything except the desk in the background was completely black out. Her gaze was skeptical, highlighted by an arched eyebrow and followed by an opening and closing of her mouth, containing words that didn’t fit.
“Hi.” The princess dared.
“Hi.”
Faybelle checked her from head to toe, searching for something in her that announced what business she had in coming this late at night and knocking at her door. In doubt, Faybelle decided to bluff:
“Isn’t it too late for a princess to be distressed?”
Beauty turned her head sideways to preserve the silence, in a failed innocence’s disguise.
“Look, if it is because of the next party, you’ve already lost. Nothing will convince me to drop it.”
“It is not.” The answer came quickly.
“Great, I knew you would recognize that I can do it better than you ever could.”
“Keep dreaming.”
“What did you say?”
“Keep dreaming, Faybelle!” Briar crossed her arms; she was waiting for this opportunity. “Everyone knows that that party was only a success because Farrah helped, no, because she handled it all, wasn’t it?”
In opposition to the princess’s expectation, Thorn ended up laughing, laughing as hard as the silence permitted. Revealing a Machiavellian malice, almost terrifying, as if she could sense her smallest slip-ups.
“Ah, yes, the last day of classes before summer.” She paused only to pretend as if she was admiring her own nails. “Missing losing your breath because of me?”
“Oh, my Godmother!”
Never did she thought that she would feel so frustrated because of Faybelle, so desperate still to despise her a little more because of how pathetic she was. But even so, there she was, waiting for insults or perhaps a door slammed in her face, but receiving instead more of the sarcasm that her dream created. Perhaps only distance could restore in its essence her hatred, which comforted her and made her feel great next to her pitiful legacy. Distance, however, no longer seemed conceivable and her own body was her greatest traitor. Beauty’s hand reached to push Faybelle away as she lost her mind. When her hand reached Faybelle’s chest, Thorn grabbed her wrist and smiled like a devil.
The black fabric was crumpled by the princess, who then bent her arm to bring the other closer. Something flashed through her brown eyes, similar to the moment when she had blocked the bathroom door at the party.
“Just tell me Bunny isn’t here.” she whispered with a frailty beyond her intention.
Now Faybelle couldn’t feel happier that all those wonderlandians decided to skip the first week of the semester.
“I bet that you would die of shame if she was.”
The fairy’s tone was cynical, enough for her to be let go and then tease her with a kiss. Through this contact, Faybelle undid the posture that the princess fought her hardest to keep, and to her surprise ended up enveloped by an intensity that not even the lowest fight could offer. Thorn’s heart took a leap of faith, and a nervous laugh escaped her lips. Because of it, she tried to pull back, which Beauty prevented by grabbing tightly her waist with both hands.
As long as they were kissing, she could forget it all, free herself from the magnificent glass palace in which she lived, in a surrender to something that the other princesses would not even dare to say. Faybelle, for her part, couldn’t care less. Their eyes met and a vibrant spark told her that they were finally equals, at least once. She wanted to destroy her, to be destroyed too, in a contest where, letting the guard down was a prerequisite. The magic books and notes had been forgotten on purpose, still dispersed on the small and lit desk below the window. In ink and graphite, there was her greatest source of pride, also the eternal and dark advantage she had over Briar that no one but the two could recognize.
The homework could be done later. What the other didn’t know was that the fairy had a certain weakness against the fruity, somewhat floral and sweet perfume that emanated from the princess. Perhaps expected for a princess, but so characteristic of Briar. So, Thorn finally placed her hands over Beauty’s before bringing her inside the room, neglecting all the questions she was supposed to ask, just for a while. As soon as the door behind them closed, Briar felt for the first time the texture of those dark blue sheets, and for the second time she surrendered to her, who let herself be completely led by the princess. Her fingers were trembling, couldn’t rest, alongside her heartbeat. Those beats were strong, echoing through her whole chest and they were real, so real.
By that realization, Briar was suddenly encased by a terrible shame that forced her to bring her hands up to her face. She sat down and pressed her eyes tight shut, wandering through the void of her mind in search of the good old – comfortable – state of denial she was used to. The princess didn’t find it, and it was harder to try again when Thorn intertwined one of her hands with hers as if she knew it was the right moment for a little truce. If before she had been smiling like the devil, now she was the devil in person, flesh and bones, ready to revoke a blood pact:
“This is confusing for me too.”
“No, no, no!” The princess drastically swung her head to the sides. “It’s just that I am so full of you, your ways and your manners, it doesn’t even fit inside of me. There is nobody that makes me so mad, these stupid wings and this mouth that can’t stay shut for even a second!”
“Briar,” Faybelle tried to form a compassionate look, just for Beauty’s despair.
“I just want to hate you, it is the only thing you deserve, simple as that!”
Faybelle stared at that tourbillion of emotions that suddenly converted into brief but meaningful tears, so many disturbances attached to her mere existence, some of which she hadn’t even imagine that were possible. She would have celebrated in the past, recorded that despair in a majestic and giant portrait or perhaps converted it into gold to wear as a medal for every occasion she attended, the supreme decoration that rare villains, only the most sadistic, could have. In conflict with everything she once believed, however, she simply held her tight to say:
“I hate you with all my being, if this comforts you. But keeping pretending that there isn’t something more than hate will only hurt us.” She took a deep breath before continuing. “Can we stop denying it, just today?”
The princess looked out of the window to a gentle and caring weather of a dark night, full of clouds in the way of the constellations. A celestial secret, shining and making itself clear only for a few seconds, when the nebula slowly moved. Her face, once the stage of so much confusion and denial, gradually revealed a sly smile, the kind that only appeared when she performed the most radical feats in the name of the time that Mr. Almighty Time found too precious for her to lose. Then she trapped the other between her arms, exchanging kisses that were no longer limited to disputing.
“Just today.”
“Just today.” Faybelle repeated.
And then threw the dark blouse towards the desk chair, which also became the destination of her blue pants and Beauty’s robe. The warmth of her skin was real, perhaps made more intense by her mystical nature, and Briar took some time to notice even in partial darkness, how beautiful the contrast of her golden skin, perpetually tanned, was against Faybelle’s. Thanks to the distraction, her dominance came to an end and in a sly movement a hand climbed the light fabric covering her thighs, creating the perfect gap to take the kisses elsewhere and anywhere they desired. Soon the princess became convinced that she was doomed to this fantasy, a cruel irony of destiny for wanting to fight against it.
The sneaky malice of that affection was only natural, there was something liberating about it, also in the slight laughs that followed. As for hating her, in the original and true sense of the word, she could do it tomorrow.
~
A generous slice of orange cake, sprinkled with sugar, was delivered to Farrah by Ashlynn that afternoon, in a way to give the fairy some kind of break from the constant favors she performed every day. In addition to the enchanting and wonderful spells of light and the magic wand, Farrah had an exquisite instinct for identifying the most discreet anxieties, as well as understanding that a temporary spell was nothing more than a summer breeze compared to them. It would be superficial, however, to believe that the favors reflected a need to put herself second. Her smile gave away instantly that her friend’s attitude was more than welcome.
Having picked up the order that she would never let Farrah pay, Ashlynn quickly turned to her own sprinkled slice, letting out a sigh before taking the first bite. Work was being so intense at the shoe shop – due to summer collection at sale – and this was the tiny window of a break she had all week. In an hour, she would have to return to those piles and piles of boxes and all kinds of sandals, heels and flip-flops that scattered across the carpets.
“When are you going to clock out?” The good fairy asked.
“I hope that it will be at exactly eight o’clock” She split with the fork another bit of the cake slice and proceeded. “All thanks to Rumpelstiltskin’s afternoon class.”
As she had to redo his class, she made up for the lost afternoon with a longer shift on Thursdays.
“Briar will help me tonight.”
“That is, if she doesn’t fall asleep.” Farrah joked, without any malice.
“Oh, she won’t. I’ve finally discovered an unbeatable way to wake her up.” She said, far from considering throwing another cup of water all over her again.
“Are you serious? How did you discover it?”
“I don’t know what passed through my mind to do it, but before it, something quite unusual happened”. She approached a little more, her eyes asking for secrecy. “I heard Briar sleep talking.”
The other inclined her head, not so impressed as Ella was. “It is rare, isn’t it?”
“I’ve never noticed. I just wonder who is driving her crazy...”
The princess redirected her attention to the cake, unconcerned until she noticed a mischievous, almost invisible but intrusive look appearing on the good fairy's face. She seemed to be connecting some mental dots, an amusing polemic, which, however, was not translated into words.
“Wait, is this something we should worry? It was just a nightmare, right?
Farrah crossed her arms and let a laugh escape before answering. “Dream or nightmare, I am sure she’s fine.”