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Once upon a time, in the enchanted kingdom of Nevermore, there ruled the great House of Sinclair, whose banner bore a white wolf upon a backdrop of midnight blue.
The people of Nevermore believed their lands held ancient magic and that children born with it were true miracles. The Sinclairs themselves had secret rituals they celebrated under the moon that made them stronger, fiercer in battle and their vision sharper. They called it the blessing of the wolf.
Their neighbors to the south, the kingdom of Jericho, believed this magic was a curse, a scourge on the earth that needed to be eradicated. They declared war in the name of righteousness, insisting Nevermore was tainted by evil.
The crown of Nevermore rested upon Queen Esther Sinclair’s head, whose husband was King in name only. Murray Sinclair always sat silently beside his wife as if he was a decorative sword—technically a weapon but ultimately useless.
Queen Esther had four children. The eldest was destined to inherit the crown and was training in politics and warfare. The next two were already proving themselves worthy of knighthood in the lines of battle, commandeering the armies to victory.
And then there was Princess Enid.
Youngest of the four and the only daughter, Enid was fond of dancing until her feet ached, loved wearing gowns that sparkled under candlelight and was everyone’s favorite in the castle, for she loved chattering and gossiping with servants and maids alike—a delightful hurricane within its thick stone walls.
She also had never partaken in the rituals of the moon, as her mother thought it would only lead her to battle. Queen Esther kept Enid away from every sword, every battle map and every riding horse, in case her daughter gained a thirst for battle and decided to join her brothers in the south.
Instead, she smothered her in dance, embroidery and etiquette lessons, which were also much more becoming of a Princess. Enid, on her part, wanted to learn it all, the sword fighting and the dancing. However, as the whole kingdom knew, Queen Esther was stubborn and overprotective to a fault.
One day, as the war continued to brew far to the south and news of burnt farms and poisoned rivers reached Nevermore Castle, the Queen entered the Hall of Knights and sent for the Lord Commander.
“Bring me your finest Knights,” she ordered him.
Several candidates were presented to her and Queen Esther chose the one she thought her Royal Guard could spare. The Knight wore, like every other Knight in the Royal Guard, blackened steel full plate armor from head to toe, a closed helm concealing every inch of the face beneath it except for a slit over the eyes, a black cape attached to the shoulders and the royal coat of arms gleaming across the breastplate.
Queen Esther and the Knight walked back to the castle, up the stairs and across the hallways filled with tapestries, straight to her daughter Enid’s room. As the Queen knocked, she could hear music and chatter, nothing out of the ordinary for the Princess.
Inside, one of the kingdom’s most beloved bards, Mistress Bianca Barclay, was strumming a lute and singing with a voice said to be enchanting enough to persuade your spouse to leave you. Chattering and giggling, her daughter danced with Lady Divina and Lady Yoko, her childhood friends.
They didn’t seem to have noticed her, as even when they fully entered the room, Enid still twirled in her pink silk gown, the fitted bodice embroidered with silver thread and its full skirts flowing around her.
Queen Esther cleared her throat, calling everyone’s attention. Mistress Bianca stopped playing immediately, bowing to her ruler, while the two ladies stood behind Enid, lowering their heads in reverence as well.
“The party is over, leave the room. I want to talk to my daughter.”
Everyone left, Lady Yoko whispering something secret into Enid’s ear that made her bite her lip to stop a giggle. And after the door closed, only the Queen, the Princess and the Knight remained.
“Enid,” the Queen started, walking to the window with her hands clasped before her. “You know the war to the south grows uglier with each passing day. Our enemies continue to claim more territories, approaching our lands, even the castle.”
Enid grimaced, eying the Knight in her room and thinking it had to be one of her mother’s personal guards. “I mean, is it really that bad?”
Esther turned to her with incredulity. “Yes! It is!” She rolled her eyes and sighed in a way only mothers can. “When will you take this seriously?”
“I would if you let me out! If I could join the rituals, learn to fight—“
“Enid, enough. We’ve talked about this.”
Enid sighed petulantly, sitting on her bed. Her skirts puffed around her.
“I’m not here to argue. I’m here to make sure my daughter is protected against our enemies.” Esther walked towards the Knight, who could’ve easily gone unnoticed for the rest of the conversation, blending into the castle’s shadowed corners in their blackened armor or being mistaken for one of the decorative suits of armor lining its halls from how perfectly still they remained.
Esther put a hand on the shoulder of the Knight and turned to her daughter.
“I’m here to appoint this Knight to your service. To protect and watch over you, accompany you wherever you go and should the worst come to pass, die in battle for you.”
Enid gasped, indignant. She jumped to her feet and stepped up to the Knight, her arms crossed and her lips pursed in judgement.
“But… he’s tiny,” Enid said.
And yes, the Knight Queen Esther chose was five foot one.
“The Lord Commander believed this Knight was amongst the best.”
“He’s short, mom! And small!” Enid complained, pointing at the quiet figure as if they weren’t there. “How is he supposed to protect me?”
“Your Knight possesses the greatest swordsmanship in the Kingdom.”
“Says who?”
“Don’t question me, young lady.”
“I’m twenty-one, mom, I’m not a child. I don’t wanna walk around with a chaperone.”
“Enough!” The Queen huffed, done with her daughter's antics. “I won’t hear another word. You will be accompanied at all times! And if I find out you’ve tried to disobey me, you can say goodbye to all your gowns and the good times with your friends.”
Enid bit her tongue, knowing there was no use in arguing with the Queen. She glared at the Knight—her Knight she supposed—unable to see any part of their face, but a hint of their eyes through the slit in the helmet. They were brown and intense. They made Enid mad.
“Fine,” she finally spat.
Satisfied for now, her mother retired to her royal duties, leaving Enid and the Knight alone.
Enid eyed the Knight from head to toe, scrutinizing. She circled around them, noticing that even in full plate, the figure seemed unusually small. The armor was clearly made to fit the wearer. The shoulders weren’t especially broad, the waist narrowed noticeably, and the Knight’s build was lean where she expected solid muscle. It was nothing like the towering warriors she’d grown up watching in the training yard.
She also noted that they carried a rapier and a dagger, in contrast to the usual longsword the Knights of the Royal Guard carried.
Enid scoffed, stepping in front of them again after her full inspection.
“You can’t even carry a longsword? What, are you too weak?”
The Knight didn’t answer, mute as they had been since they came into the room.
Enid squinted her eyes, trying to peer into the slit of the helmet. The Knight stared back and—well, Enid had to admit those were pretty eyes, for a man.
“How did you ever make it into the Royal Guard? There has to be a height requirement.”
Silence.
“Do you not talk? Are you mute?” Enid asked, tauntingly.
Still, silence.
“Are you dumb?”
The Knight shifted slightly and Enid heard a curt sigh behind the helmet.
“Gods, you’re gonna be boring too. Great.” Enid turned, going to sit at her vanity to paint her nails. “Just my freaking luck.”
...
For the next week, the Knight followed Enid everywhere. Like a shadow, they walked two steps behind her through the palace gardens, where Enid and her friends gathered to gossip. Their armor clinked softly in the silence of the castle library, where Enid spent far more time pretending to read than actually reading. They accompanied her to every lesson and tedious royal obligation her mother insisted she attend. Even on her evening walks along the battlements, where she would look curiously at the far away lands, the Knight was never more than a few paces behind.
And no matter how many questions Enid asked, the Knight never answered.
“Do you ever get tired in all that armor?”
Silence.
“What’s your name?”
Silence.
“Have you ever even seen battle?”
Just silence.
Enid was only alone for a few blessed hours of the day that included: sleeping, bathing, dressing, and while she was with her family in secure areas of the castle. But other than that, Enid could not catch a moment alone.
“Okay, how about this,” she said to the Knight one evening. She had recently gotten a very steamy, romance novel from Bianca and she wanted to enjoy it on her own. “You stand outside the door, huh? For a couple hours. So I can study in peace.”
For the first time in seven days, Enid saw some expression in the Knight: the eyes behind the helmet slit rolled in exasperation. The Knight moved to the table where the novel rested and picked it up with their gauntleted hand, showing it to Enid pointedly.
Enid blushed furiously, stomping up to the Knight and snatched it out of their hands.
“How dare you?!” She screeched. “What do you care what I read, huh?”
The Knight pointed at the mountain of books that Enid’s tutor had given her. A mountain that remained untouched and unread by the Princess.
“So? Are you gonna tattle on me?” Enid taunted. Feeling childish and bratty, she leaned forward slightly towards this tiny man that had decided to start interacting, now of all days. “Are you gonna go running to the Queen, little Knight?”
Enid could see the Knight’s shoulders lift in a heaving breath and then their arm was around her, quick as a snake, snatching the novel out of her hands.
“Hey!” Enid yelped. “Give it back!”
The Knight turned their back to her, flipping to the first page where a summary read:
A scandalous romance between a noblewoman and her lady-in-waiting, whose love affair threatened to expose every secret at court.
Enid snatched it back, face burning in embarrassment.
“You—you—arrogant, insufferable brute!” Enid yelled. “Get out of my room! Now!”
The Knight watched her silently for a few long seconds, like they wanted to challenge her. Enid felt strangely exposed, embarrassed by what the Knight had seen in the book—because, even though it wasn’t forbidden or frowned upon, she’d only confessed her attractions to the fairer sex to her closest friends. But she also felt an electric energy in the air, something she didn’t understand crackling between them.
Those intense brown eyes finally looked away, and the Knight walked out of the room, closing the door behind them firmly.
That night, Enid dreamed she was a beast, running through the forest and howling at the moon. In the dark, a pair of intense brown eyes bore into her challengingly.
She awoke, breathing hard and skin tingling, with the memory of those eyes still fresh in her mind.
...
For the next couple of days, Enid avoided looking directly at her Knight, and her Knight went back to behaving like a silent shadow.
That worked fantastically for her, until Enid decided she wanted to visit the stables, to try to pester the stable boy into letting her take one of the horses out for a ride, which had been strictly forbidden by the Queen.
“Oh, come on, Eugene, please?”
The young boy stuttered at the sight of the Princess and the dark Knight that followed her everywhere with their sharp rapier, and intense, mysterious presence.
“I really can’t. Your mother will kill me. Like, seriously, she will feed me to the wolves,” he said, pushing nervously at his sleeves.
“But I came prepared and everything,” she complained, looking down at herself. The Princess had chosen to wear a cornflower blue riding dress, with a pair of riding boots and a pair of riding gloves.
Eugene smiled crookedly. “Sorry, Enid.”
The Knight stepped closer to Eugene in a pointed manner.
“Uh, I mean, Your Highness,” Eugene corrected. “No riding horses for you. Those are the Queen’s orders.”
“Ugh, fine,” Enid huffed. “Can I at least see Selene?”
“Oh, did they tell you she had her foal three days ago?”
“What? Selene had her baby? Why doesn’t anyone tell me things?”
“Come on.” Eugene gestured at Enid to follow. “We haven’t named him yet.”
The three of them walked further into the stables, walking past riding and work horses, the smell of manure and hay prominent in the air. Princess Enid, with her beautiful white-blonde hair and feminine grace, looked quite out of place here. But even as her face scrunched up in a grimace at the smell, she wasn’t deterred, stepping into puddles of mud and staining the bottom of her dress.
Eugene stopped them in front of a stall and Enid leaned forward over the door to see a beautiful light gray mare chewing on some hay and a brown and white foal standing on unsteady legs and nosing curiously through the fresh straw.
“Oh my Gods, hi baby!” Enid exclaimed.
The foal looked up in curiosity, trotting to her. Enid quickly took off one of her gloves and extended a hand, letting the foal nuzzle into it.
“Can I name him?”
“Of course, Your Highness,” Eugene said.
“He’s going to be… Poe.”
“Poe it is.”
Enid smiled brightly at Eugene, and the boy blushed at what the whole castle was already accustomed to: the Princess’ irresistible charm.
Overcome with a sudden idea, Enid turned to her Knight.
“Do you have a horse? All knights have horses.”
For the first time since Enid had started talking to her Knight, she got a response: a simple nod.
“Ooh, can we visit him too, or her?”
The next bow of the head took a few seconds longer to arrive, but the Knight acquiesced to the request. They walked the Princess to a stall and opened the door, coaxing out a charcoal black horse. The animal had scars from battle and was missing part of an ear. The stitches seemed to have been sewn in an emergency, far away from the safety of the castle.
“Oh,” Enid said. “He’s… been through a lot.”
Yet another bow of the head from her Knight. Their gauntleted hand patted the side of the horse’s neck and the animal nickered softly, a hoof pawing the ground.
“What’s his name?” Enid asked.
The Knight pointed at a wooden plaque, where a name was carved: Thing.
“Thing? That’s a weird name for a horse,” Enid chuckled. “You don’t seem to be very imaginative.”
The Knight, of course, didn’t reply, but they did stare at Enid with the same challenging, piercing glare that the Princess was starting to seek out. Enid was realizing she liked provoking this short man.
Just then, another Knight walked in with his horse. He wore the same armor as Enid’s Knight, but his helmet was off. He looked young for a Knight, but Enid supposed the Royal Guard was contemplating different merits than the usual when choosing its members, considering how small her own Knight was.
“Sir Addams,” the recently arrived Knight said. He had a strangely predatory look on his face, unfriendly. It made Enid feel alert and uneasy. “How’s your new duty treating you? Will you be attending the ball next? Maybe in a dress?”
Enid’s Knight stayed put, but Enid instinctually stepped in front of them.
“You, what’s your name?” She asked.
“I am Sir Tyler Galpin, Your Highness. My father is Lord Commander of the Royal Guard.”
“Well, Sir Galpin, I don’t care who your father is, you can’t talk to my Knight like that,” Enid sassed. “He’s been appointed to protect me, the Princess, so that’s like, the most important job there is.”
“He has, huh?” Sir Galpin looked at Enid’s Knight, shaking his head smugly. He stepped closer menacingly. “What else has he been doing?”
Enid’s Knight moved forward finally, stepping between them, a hand to their rapier. The sudden movement caused Sir Galpin’s horse to let out a startled whiny, which in turn made Enid step back.
Unaccustomed to walking these areas of the castle, Enid stepped on a rake that snapped up hitting a beam, making a loud noise. Her ankle twisted and she stumbled awkwardly trying not to fall back. But before she could hit the ground, a pair of lean but strong arms wrapped around her waist.
Her Knight had caught her just as she was about to hit the beam with her head.
Enid had never been close enough to the helmet to be able to hear the breathing of the Knight, which at the moment sounded a little heavy. She had also never noticed the freckles dotting her Knight’s cheekbones, scattered across the tan skin surrounding their eyes.
So curious was she about what she had just discovered in that split second that she didn’t notice Sir Galpin’s horse had been spooked by the clang against the beam. In one of its bucks, the animal stepped into a puddle, splattering mud toward them.
Enid heard the wet splatter against metal and was spared the spray by the body of her Knight, who was left covered in mud from head to toe.
Eugene came running to help Sir Galpin calm his horse, and Enid was finally eased back onto her feet. Her Knight reached back, a hand finding the edge of the helmet where mud had slipped beneath the armor. Enid heard an annoyed sigh before her Knight turned on their heel and strode angrily out of the stables.
Enid followed them not long after, catching sight of their retreating back. She found them near the well by the kitchens, drawing a bucket of water. The Knight was alone and this corner of the castle grounds was private and small. For some reason, Enid stayed hidden against the stone wall, watching.
The Knight set the bucket on the stone rim and took their helmet off.
Nothing could’ve prepared Enid for what she saw then.
A single braid of dark hair slipped free from the helmet, a few loose wisps and locks coming undone while straight bangs settled in place over her forehead. Her Knight was younger than Enid had expected, around her same age perhaps, with sharp features, full lips, tan skin dusted in freckles across high cheekbones, and dark eyes narrowed in irritation.
But most important of all, Enid’s Knight was a woman.
And not only that, she was beautiful.
She scrubbed the mud from her helmet with the water in the bucket, her face set in annoyance. Enid was captivated by the way the muscles of her sharp jaw jumped as she grinded her teeth. She took a step closer to see better. However, stealthy the Princess was not, and she immediately stepped on a crunchy leaf, revealing her presence.
The Knight snapped her eyes to her, relaxing ever so slightly when she saw it was Enid.
“I’ll be back to my duties in a minute, Your Highness,” she said, speaking out loud for the first time.
And what a voice she had, raspy and dry, bordering on monotone.
Enid scurried closer.
“You’re a woman.”
The Knight gave her a deadpan expression. “Astute observation, Your Highness.”
“You’re a woman, and you’re pretty, and you’re like, three apples tall. How are you a Knight?”
The Knight stopped her scrubbing and looked up at Enid slowly, a faint blush on her cheekbones. Enid replayed her words in her mind and blushed too.
“I mean, you’re—mh. I didn’t realize women could be Knights.”
“The Royal Guard doesn’t care about gender or size. Only how loyal and lethal its Knights are. No one would have wagered a single gold coin on me, and yet no one has ever managed to best me in a sword fight.”
Enid watched her closely, feeling her heartbeat quicken.
“What’s your name, then?”
“Wednesday.”
“Sir Wednesday Addams,” Enid said, recalling what Sir Galpin called her.
“Yes, Your Highness.”
“Why were you hiding from me, huh?”
Wednesday clenched her jaw. “I wasn’t hiding. I saw no reason to reveal my identity. My job is only to protect you, nothing more.”
Enid stepped closer, daring to tap her finger playfully on the helmet held in Wednesday’s arms.
“You could’ve taken it off, you know? Just to breathe.” Enid shrugged, her mannerisms becoming something completely different than what Wednesday had been accustomed to. Where there once was irritation and mistrust, she now saw openness and a gentle tease. “Maybe when we’re alone you can take it off.”
“Is that an order, Your Highness?” Wednesday asked and for some reason, the way she asked it, or perhaps the words themselves, they made Enid feel warm.
“Yes, it is.”
“Very well, as you wish.”
...
For the next month, Enid became completely obsessed with learning everything there was to know about her Knight. She grew extremely curious to find out what Wednesday did for those hours that they were away from each other.
So little by little, Enid started piecing together the puzzle that was Sir Wednesday Addams.
Once, as she was supposed to be having some alone time with her friends, Enid slipped away to find her at the barracks, eating. From the doorway she could see Wednesday’s food was bland and sad, so she ran to the kitchens and back, to present her with a basket of pastries.
“What is this?” Wednesday asked.
“It’s yummy food! See? This one has raspberries.”
“I can’t eat that.”
“Why not?” Enid pouted.
“I’m allergic to color.”
“What?!”
“The Court Alchemist brews me potions to alleviate my allergy.”
“Wait, so you can touch color.” Enid glanced at the uncovered hands of the Knight, long, dexterous fingers wrapped around the wooden spoon. She held her arm out, where her long sleeved yellow day-dress covered her skin. “Right? You can touch me?”
Wednesday glanced at the extended arm warily, but dropped the spoon and wrapped her fingers around Enid’s forearm. The Princess felt an immediate warmth spreading from her arm up, an electric tingle that made her wonder if she was the one with an allergy.
“I can,” Wednesday said, releasing her.
“So you can also eat my pastries!”
Wednesday sighed, picking the blandest one out of the basket and setting it next to her plate. She resumed eating, thinking Enid would leave. But the Princess simply plopped down on a stool and picked her own pastry, munching it with a cheeky smile on her face directed at Wednesday.
On another occasion, Wednesday and Enid walked the gardens at the far corner of the castle. It was a very warm day, and even Enid was sweating in her summer gown. She nudged Wednesday’s shoulder—since they now always walked side by side—and said:
“Take it off, your thoughts must be getting cooked in there.”
Wednesday hesitated, but she did as told, letting her braid tumble down her back and holding the helm under her arm.
“My thoughts are quite intact, thank you.”
“Care to share them?” Enid asked cheekily.
Wednesday eyed her out of the corner of her eye. “I was thinking about my job.”
“So you were thinking about me?” Enid flirted.
Wednesday’s blush was not easily hidden under the light of the sun.
“That is not what I said.”
“But it’s what you meant,” Enid teased. “You have to think of all the ways I could get in trouble and how to get me out of it.”
“You seem to attract it.”
“Not what I want to attract,” Enid mumbled.
“What was that?”
Enid skipped a few steps ahead. “Oh, nothing.” She bent down and plucked a pink flower from a bush. She waited until Wednesday caught up to her and put a hand on her breastplate.
Wednesday watched her, expressionless. Enid slipped the flower into the gap between the Knight’s shoulder and breastplate, then offered her a sweet smile.
“Mh, cute.”
Wednesday removed it as soon as they continued walking, but she kept it safe in her gauntlet the whole afternoon, and late at night, the flower was carefully pressed inside of a book.
On yet another occasion, a summer storm caught them walking the grounds. The rain became brutal and inclement from the first drop, soaking Enid’s hair and mudding her dress. The water hit Wednesday’s armor, who had forgone her helmet today, and the clinking of the droplets on the metal would’ve been funny if Enid wasn’t so annoyed.
“Gods, I’m gonna get sick!” She whined.
Without a word, Wednesday caught Enid by the waist and pulled her into her side. Enid’s breath stuttered, not understanding what was happening. But then Wednesday reached behind her back and drew her black cloak over Enid’s head like a makeshift tent.
“Oh,” Enid breathed.
“Stand close. We’ll walk back to the castle like this,” Wednesday said, and Enid realized just how close she was as her breath fanned over her face. She could see Wednesday’s throat bob on a swallow. “You may hold onto me, Your Highness.”
Enid didn’t need to be told twice. She slipped an arm behind Wednesday’s back and cuddled up to her side while her Knight held the cape over her. Wednesday angled it so every inch of fabric covered Enid, seemingly unconcerned by the rain hitting her face and plastering her bangs against her forehead.
Then, one night, Enid got brave and sneaked into the barracks in her silk nightgown and a dark green hooded cloak on top, to find Wednesday in her room. As Enid opened her door and slipped inside, she found Wednesday sitting at her desk with her back perfectly straight while she wrote something on parchment in the light of a candle.
Seeing a dark shadow slip into the room out of the corner of her eye and expecting enemies, Wednesday was up with her rapier in hand and pointed at Enid’s throat in an instant. Enid yelped, putting her hands up.
“It’s me, it’s me,” she whispered harshly.
Wednesday huffed, lowering her rapier and pulling the hood off of Enid’s head roughly.
“I could’ve slit your throat, Enid.”
The way Wednesday said her name so casually in the privacy of her room caught Enid completely off guard and made warmth bloom in her chest. As the Princess of House Sinclair, she should’ve demanded respect, that her title be used. But she found then that she really liked how her name sounded from her Knight’s lips.
“Sorry!” She said with a crooked smile.
As Wednesday stepped back into the light of her candle, Enid noticed her clothes: a white linen shirt with a high collar and black trousers with small buckles on the front. She was barefoot and she looked feminine and lean.
“Wow,” was what escaped her mouth without her consent. Her pupils dilated and her breath stuttered, a reckless need to hold the other woman possessing her. Fortunately, she resisted it. “You are even tinier without your armor.”
Wednesday shot her a deadpan look.
“What are you doing here?”
“Oh,” Enid said, stepping closer to the desk to peer at the parchments. Wednesday blocked her path which made her stand very close. “I just wanted to spend time with you.”
Wednesday furrowed her brow. “Why?”
“Because I like your company?”
Enid walked around her and sat on Wednesday’s cot. Wednesday seemed at a loss for what to say. She dragged her chair towards Enid and sat primly on it, opening and closing her mouth a couple times.
“I suppose I enjoy your company as well.”
Enid smiled sheepishly, biting the corner of her lip.
“So, what are you doing? What’s that?” Enid said, pointing at the parchment.
Wednesday didn’t respond immediately, still as a statue with her hands on her thighs. But Enid caught the subtle movement of her nail picking at the corner of her thumb.
Nervousness.
“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.”
“It’s my novel. I am writing a book.”
Enid’s eyes went wide in excitement. “You’re writing a book? What’s it about?”
“It’s about a noblewoman named Viper that solves murders across the kingdom accompanied by a powerful shapeshifter named Evelyn. Who is also her best friend.” Wednesday cleared her throat, eyes darting away. “And her lover.”
“Wh—they are? Them? Together? They are lovers together?”
“As opposed to?” Wednesday asked, raising an eyebrow.
“No, I mean—cool. I’d love to read it.”
“It isn’t finished yet.”
“Can I hear the beginning?”
Wednesday’s eyes squinted, but she finally conceded. Enid reclined back in the cot against the wall as Wednesday gathered the first chapter to read it to her Princess.
That night, Enid fell asleep in the Knight’s cot and Wednesday had to sleep on the floor, staring the whole night at Enid’s hand that hung over the side of her bed, so close and yet so out of reach.
By the end of the month, it had started to get to a point where Princess Enid knew for a fact that she was quite taken with her Knight. She continued to gather with her friends for their customary gossip, but they would now catch her sighing and staring into the empty space, and tease her about it. Until one day Lady Yoko said:
“So the Princess has taken a particular interest in her Knight.”
Enid snapped out of her stupor. “What? Why do you say that?”
“She’s all you talk about these days, Enid,” Lady Divina added.
“No, that’s not—I haven’t spoken about her today!”
“No, you just sat there and stared at the emptiness with a look of adoration on your face. Come on, admit it,” Yoko said.
“I mean, she’s pretty.”
“Mh.”
“And interesting.”
“Right.”
“And she’s super smart.”
“The book, yeah, you mentioned.”
“And she’s protective of me.”
“Kinda has to be.”
“And she listens when I talk.”
“A true gentlewoman.”
“And—okay, yeah, I’ve got it bad.”
“Are you planning on telling her?” Divina asked.
“Oh, she doesn’t—I don’t think she sees me like that.”
“Why do you think that?”
“Because… I was so mean to her before I knew—well, when I thought she was a man. I think I just annoy her a lot and she puts up with me because she has to.”
“You could try testing the waters…?” Yoko offered.
Curiosity flickered across Enid’s expression. “What do you mean?”
“I mean you could… have some private time with her, flirt, ” Yoko said, “oh! You could recreate the stables thing! Trip on something, have her catch you.”
“Okay, sure, and then what?”
“You say something flirty that she can’t resist.”
“Like what?”
“Like… ‘it seems I can’t stop falling for you, my dashing Knight,’” Yoko recited dreamily, a hand to her forehead.
Enid stared at her, unamused. “You’re an idiot.” She turned to Divina. “I don’t know what you see in her.”
Divina shrugged one shoulder, staring at Yoko like she agreed with Enid but also like she was a slice of cake that she wanted a bite of. “I don’t know, Princess. She’s kinda hot I guess.”
“Hey!” Yoko exclaimed, indignant. “I have brains too.”
That night their laughter rang like bells through the castle halls.
...
Wednesday Addams had always wanted to be a Knight.
When she told her father at the young age of eight that she wanted to be as good a swordsman as he was, Sir Gomez Addams started training his daughter the same way he had been trained long ago.
The Addams family had served the royal line for generations, but no one expected the small girl to be the one to step up to their legacy, while her brother Pugsley chose to go into the uncharted world of inventions.
But Wednesday had made up her mind, she would take her place at the Hall of Knights, sword in hand and an oath upon her lips.
While other children chased each other through the town’s square, Wednesday practiced footwork until the sole of her boots were worn. Before her fourteenth namesday, Wednesday had learned how to disarm an opponent twice her size. She was focused and determined, but throughout the years, whenever her father granted her a moment’s rest, her eyes wandered to the same place.
Enid Sinclair was impossible to ignore. She wore colorful dresses that were an offense to Wednesday's sensibilities, she laughed so loud and so freely, she could be heard from the barracks when she was walking the gardens, and she would talk to everyone in the castle incessantly.
Everyone but Wednesday, that is, who avoided her whenever she could and who had mostly gone unnoticed by their ruler’s only daughter. At eight, Wednesday wasn’t sure why she had such a visceral reaction towards the Princess. She had assumed it was probably because she didn’t like her. But as the years went by, Wednesday’s feelings started evolving.
At age ten, Wednesday still thought Enid was intolerable, but even though she avoided her, she would hide to watch her interact with the other people in the castle. At age fourteen, Wednesday saw the Princess cry for the first time. She was on a balcony, arms resting on the stone railing and sobbing. Wednesday was on the ground, unseen, but she’d had the urge to ask why are you crying? She never did, of course, because it wasn’t her business.
At age sixteen, Enid had started to look… different. Wednesday noticed things she didn’t before: the blue of her eyes, the roundness of her cheeks, her lips, pink and shiny with some kind of make up, her wolfish, blinding smiles that featured her sharp canines, and the way her lean body filled her dresses. Wednesday would get these tingles in her stomach, like there were a hundred moths trapped in there.
At age eighteen, Enid had grown into a beautiful young woman who attended the balls and danced with every eligible bachelor in the kingdom. She had a brief courtship with a nobleman from House Petropoulos, but that ended abruptly with a screaming match in the castle gardens that Wednesday and many of the other members of the staff had heard.
At age nineteen, the rumour that Princess Enid preferred the fairer sex had spread around the castle. The first time she heard it, Wednesday felt that old fluttering in her chest, the piercing spear of hope sinking into her like a wound designed to kill her.
Wednesday knew by then she was in love with Princess Enid, which was insane to her because she had never exchanged a single word with her. But that didn’t mean she didn’t know everything there was to know about her. She knew she was kind and friendly to the servants, she knew she was gentle with the animals, she knew she was fierce and stood up for herself, and she knew she had a quiet strength, that she could easily be a fearsome warrior if only her mother let her join the rituals of the moon.
By age twenty, Wednesday had been knighted by Queen Esther and had sworn an oath to protect the crown like her father before her. And a year after that, the Queen had come into the Hall of Knights looking for a Knight to protect her daughter.
On a night when Enid had her friends over and Wednesday was released from her duties, the Knight sat at the chair of her desk, staring at the blank parchment before her.
It had been so jarring to go from pining from afar to being in the princess’s close company every day.
At first, Wednesday had decided to keep her identity hidden and her helmet on. There were several reasons for it, the most pressing being that she didn’t know how she would react to finally being spoken to by the object of her affections after so long. Gods save her if she were to blush in front of the other woman.
But she also wanted to be professional and do her job and her duty to the best of her abilities without feelings (hers) getting involved. And so she put a sheet of metal between them. And the person she met while being an anonymous Knight… was a nightmare.
Enid had been abrasive and taunting towards her, childish and bratty. Wednesday would have headaches at night from grinding her teeth so hard. It hadn’t been until weeks had passed and they visited the stables together, that Wednesday had seen Enid start to trust her and maybe even gain a fraction of her respect.
That lasted minutes, as Wednesday had to remove her helmet to clean it and Enid was back to questioning her. How could she be such a small woman and also a Knight? Well, Wednesday had trained her whole life for it. But Enid had also said she was pretty, and as expected, Wednesday had blushed and made a fool of herself.
The change in the Princess was immediate. She now smiled at her, would walk by her side, would sometimes touch her arm, her breastplate. It was overwhelming to suddenly have the attention of the person she had yearned for for so many years. Wednesday thanked her Addams’ blood that helped her be so calm under pressure. Her expression was always impassive, her words monotone and dry. But on the inside, Sir Wednesday Addams was reeling, because if she wasn’t reading things wrong, it seemed that Princess Enid Sinclair was flirting with her.
And that left Wednesday with another conundrum. Would her affections be well received? Would Enid reject her for not being of noble blood? Was it all in her head? Or worse, was it just a game for Enid?
Wednesday sighed, dipping the quill in the ink again, as it had dried by now.
But that night, she couldn’t put a word on the page, for the only thing in her mind was blue eyes and white-blonde hair and the blinding smile of the youngest wolf in House Sinclair.
...
Enid yanked the door open on that fateful day, after the knuckles of Wednesday’s gauntlet had barely brushed against her door. The Knight had her helmet under her arm and looked startled to see Enid be so fast at the threshold.
“Hi, good morning,” Enid said in a quick breath.
“Good morning, Your Highness.”
Enid had traded her usual gowns for a pair of dark purple riding trousers, a rose-colored doublet over a white linen shirt and soft leather boots. Wednesday fell speechless for a moment.
“I wanted to ask you something. A favor,” Enid said, snapping the Knight’s gaze away from her clothes.
“A favor,” Wednesday repeated.
“Yes, come on,” she grabbed the Knight’s hand, pulling her down the halls and stairs until they reached the armory.
“Why are we here, Princess?” Wednesday asked suspiciously.
“Because,” she said, glancing at the swords in barrels and mounted on the walls. “I want you to teach me how to fight with a sword.”
“You want to learn swordsmanship?” Wednesday asked surprised.
“Yes, and you’re the best so… teach me.”
“There are tutors for that, Your Highness.”
“I know,” Enid said with a shrug and an easy smile. “It has to be you though.”
“Why?”
Enid sighed and stepped closer to her Knight, so the Master Armorer wouldn’t hear her. “I just—I want it to be you, okay?”
Wednesday’s eyes snapped from one eye to the other, nervous but hiding it well. She nodded.
“I will teach you, Princess,” she said quietly.
“Thank you, Wednesday,” Enid replied softly. She snapped out of their little moment and looked around the room. “So, which one do I get?”
...
Up in the hill outside the castle, the one that overlooked the village and the one that had a tree that bloomed pink in the spring, Wednesday rested two swords against the trunk.
“Wait…” Enid said, looking around. “Is this the Lovers’ Hill? You brought me to the Lovers’ Hill?”
Wednesday could not stop the blush that stained her cheekbones and made her ears turn red even if she tried.
“The—what?” She sputtered.
“You didn’t know?” Enid giggled teasingly. She put on the aristocratic accent of a sophisticated noblewoman. “This is where many a Knight has come to steal away many a maiden’s virtue.”
Wednesday clinked in her armor as she shifted, looking around hesitantly. Her heart hammered under the breastplate, wondering if she had ruined things, if she had shown her hand—and without having any idea of what this place meant.
Enid stepped up to her coyly, avoiding the stones on the ground, hands behind her back.
“I’m teasing you, Sir Addams. Relax.” As Enid stood before her, Lady Yoko’s words from the night before about flirting more directly resurfaced in her mind. She bit her lip. “I know you’d never be so bold as to steal away my virtue without courting me over dinner first.”
The words made Wednesday choke on her own spit, and with that embarrassing reaction, the Knight stepped away, picking up the wooden sword she had brought to the hill.
“You’ll start with this one,” she said firmly, monotone. “I will use my rapier. I will teach you rapier fencing.”
“A rapier? Can that really hold its own in a war?”
“This sword favors speed over strength, precision over force. That’s favorable for people like us.” Wednesday made a couple flourishes with her weapon, cutting the air with swiftness. “A larger opponent expects to win through sheer power. Let them underestimate you.”
“Okay,” Enid said, getting into position with her wooden sword. “So, when do I get to use the real thing?”
Without warning, Wednesday struck. Her rapier snapped against Enid’s wooden sword, sending it flying from her grasp. Enid yelped as it thudded against the bark of the cherry tree.
“When you can hold on to this one,” Wednesday said evenly, “and I’m no longer concerned you might injure yourself.”
The morning slipped away into afternoon as Wednesday taught her Princess the same way her father had taught her. Every time the wooden sword flew from Enid’s grasp, Wednesday retrieved it without comment and instructed her to begin again.
After a while, Enid started really listening, a determined frown on her face. She adjusted her grip, corrected her stance, and observed Wednesday closely to read her intentions. By the time sweat beaded on her temples and her feet ached inside her boots, Wednesday picked the other rapier from where it rested against the tree and offered it to Enid hilt-first.
“You’ve earned this.”
The blade felt impossibly light compared to the wooden practice sword, which made Enid feel more secure. They resumed, steel ringing against steel and Wednesday repeating her lessons out loud. After a while, Enid started stumbling less and reacting faster.
Wednesday lunged, Enid slipping aside on instinct, twisting her wrist exactly as she’d been shown, and extending her arm. The tip of her rapier came to scrape against the center of Wednesday’s black breastplate making a faint screeching sound.
The two young women stopped moving, silence settling over the hill. A slow grin spread across Enid’s face.
“I do believe that means I win,” Enid gloated.
“I wasn’t aware we were competing.”
“Well, no.” Enid stepped closer to Wednesday, stabbing the rapier into the ground playfully. “But I still want a reward for besting my teacher.”
“You didn’t best me, you caught me off guard once.”
Enid huffed, frustrated. All of Yoko and Divina’s suggestions from last night weren’t working. Wednesday was either not attracted to her, or she was aggressively oblivious. Enid had half a mind to give up, but maybe there was one more thing she could try.
She looked into her Knight’s eyes and shuffled her foot around until she found a loose stone. Then, with all the subtlety of a terrible stage performer, Enid’s ankle ‘gave out’ and she started to collapse. As expected, Wednesday was fast in her response, catching her around the waist before she could hit the ground.
“Oh,” Enid said, their faces close enough that Enid could count the freckles on Wednesday’s cheeks. “It—it seems I can’t stop falling for you, my, uh, dashing Knight.”
Wednesday’s eyes were fixed on Enid’s lips, her mind muddled with thoughts that were not appropriate for a Knight to think about her royal charge. For that reason, it took several seconds for her brain to make sense of Enid’s words, which made her heartbeat quicken like a hummingbird’s wings, even though her face showed no reaction.
But by then, Enid had already regretted saying anything, her face flushing in shame. She righted herself up quickly, adjusting her doublet and clearing her throat.
“Right, so, we should go back. I feel—thank you for teaching me.”
Wednesday watched confused, not understanding what just happened. But she nodded, grabbed their things and proceeded to accompany the Princess back to the castle.
...
The whole way back Wednesday thought back on the many hours of their training, the words exchanged between them, that last moment with Enid in her arms. She could tell a strange tension had settled between them, something she hadn’t felt before, electric and awkward at the same time.
The Princess didn’t utter a word on the whole way back, which was unusual enough. But more than that, Enid would not look at her and she was back to walking one step ahead of her. Wednesday felt lost.
Finally, they reached Enid’s door where the pair would have to separate so Enid could take her bath and join her family for dinner. The Princess opened her door and turned sheepishly at the threshold, a hand on the doorframe.
“So… thanks for—“ Enid made a vague gesture, avoiding Wednesday’s eyes. “It was—I had fun.”
“Of course, Your Highness.” Wednesday felt a need to do or say something, but she wasn’t sure what was allowed. “You can ask me anytime. I will gladly train you.”
Enid chuckled, still not looking into her eyes. “My mother would have something to say about that.”
“The Queen doesn’t need to find out.”
That made Enid snap her eyes to her Knight’s with a gasp. “You would defy your liege’s command?”
“I am sworn to you.”
“No, your oath is with the Queen.”
Wednesday held her gaze for a moment, debating how much to reveal. “I have devotions of my own.”
Enid took a deep breath, wondering what that meant, mind reeling. She was about to ask about those devotions when her maids walked up to the door with empty washbasins. One of them, her head maid, looked between them with her astute green eyes.
“Your Highness,” she said with a bow. “We are going to fill these with water and we will be back to help you bathe.”
“Oh, Agnes,” Enid said, taking a small step away from Wednesday. “How—how long? Until you come back.”
Agnes was small and sneaky, and with those green eyes and the fiery red hair on her head, Enid always thought she looked like a fox. A much too clever one.
“Oh, don’t you know ladies,” she said to the other two maids. “The well by the kitchens has been drained to be cleaned, so we will have to go to the town’s well.”
The other maids sighed but accepted their fate without complaint. Enid knew for a fact the well by the kitchens was perfectly fine. Agnes turned with the rest of the maids to leave, but not before throwing a wink at the Princess behind Wednesday’s back.
“I should leave too,” Wednesday said.
“Oh, you—wait but, no.”
“No?”
“I wanted to…” Enid racked her brain for something, anything, to keep Wednesday around for a little longer. “Ask you something.”
“Very well, what is it?”
Enid paused, trying to find something normal and not embarrassing to ask. An idea came to mind, something she’d been curious about anyway.
“What’s the deal with you and Sir Galpin?” Enid asked. “Why does he seem to hate you?”
Wednesday’s eyes turned flat at the mention of the young man. “Years ago, he declared his intention to court me. I was sixteen and he was twenty. I refused. He insisted, so I challenged him to a duel. If he won, he would earn the privilege of pursuing me. He lost spectacularly. He’s still embarrassed he lost to a young girl—like the men at the Royal Guard like to remind him. That makes him despise me, and so he pesters me every chance he gets.”
“Okay, what an asshole,” Enid declared.
“Indeed.”
“Do you want me to talk to my mother? Maybe she can, like, I don’t know. Ship him off to war or something.”
Wednesday’s mouth twitched in a small smile and Enid’s eyes zeroed in on it and the dimple that appeared for an instant on her cheek.
“That won’t be necessary. But, thank you.”
“Yeah, okay—I mean, you’re welcome.”
Wednesday shuffled in place. The maids weren’t back yet, of course, but she didn’t understand what she was still doing here.
“I must go.”
Enid’s face fell. “Right, sure.”
“I will see you in the morning.”
“Yeah, I…” Enid rested her head on the doorframe, looking longingly at the young woman. “I look forward to it.”
Wednesday blinked, breath caught at the way Enid had looked at her, at her parting words. The door shut softly and the Knight’s mind reeled, wondering how many opportunities she would let slip away before confessing her feelings to her Princess.
Inside the room, Enid let out a forlorn sigh, falling backwards despondently on her bed.
So maybe Wednesday didn’t like her like that. She had been perfectly respectful and chivalrous during every one of their outings and today, she hadn’t exactly responded eagerly to Enid’s blatant flirting attempts. Her Knight was sworn to protect her and lay down her life for her, but she was bound to Enid by duty, not by any feeling or emotion beyond.
The Princess couldn’t tell how many minutes passed while she was wallowing in self-pity, but a hard knock on her door snapped her out of her sulking. She rose to open, expecting her maids, only to find herself face to face again with her Knight.
Only this time, she’d barely opened her mouth to speak when Wednesday stepped into her body, put a gauntleted hand on her waist and the other on her neck, and kissed her.
It took Enid a moment to understand what was happening. Her wide-open eyes could see Wednesday’s closed ones, the slight frown on her forehead and the freckles over her nose and cheekbones. She could feel the coldness of the gauntlet against the skin of her neck and the grip of the fingers on her waist. But by the time she registered Wednesday’s lips, their softness and their pressure were disappearing.
Wednesday’s eyes widened slowly, horrified.
“Forgive me, Your Highness. That was most inappropriate. I fear I momentarily lost my sanity.”
Enid breathed fast and quick, still processing.
“I will tell the Queen to replace me immediately as your Knight and I will take any punishment you deem fit.”
With those words, Wednesday turned to leave. Thankfully, that’s when Enid snapped out of it.
“Like hell you will,” she huffed, grabbing Wednesday by the shoulder and pulling her into her room. Inside, she closed the door and slammed her Knight into the wood, pressing their lips together once more.
She felt Wednesday respond instantly, drawing their bodies even closer as her lips moved with desperate urgency. Enid could feel Wednesday’s breath against her face and taste her on every kiss.
Princess Enid had only kissed boys before Sir Wednesday Addams came along. She had talked about kissing women endlessly with her friends, who were in a relationship with each other, and she knew, in theory, that it would be nice and that she’d probably like it.
But nothing could have prepared her for the absolute rush of adrenaline in her veins, the bolt of lightning down her spine and to her core, and the way she felt delirious with hunger for the woman pinned against her door.
Enid didn’t exactly know what she was doing, but she knew she had flared like dry tinder, and had forgone the simple, gentle kiss that Wednesday had pressed into her mouth in favor of this wild, open mouthed, tongues meeting, teeth biting, all consuming thing.
They must’ve stayed like that, pressed against the door, for many long minutes. Wednesday’s hands remained in respectable places, even though Enid wished they wouldn’t. The Knight had wrapped an arm around her waist to press their bodies close and had cradled the back of the Princess’ head with the other. Enid’s hands, on the other hand, had roamed. But there wasn’t much she could touch or feel through this bulky plate armor.
Enid was just thinking about breaking the kiss for a breather and maybe asking Wednesday if she wanted to get more comfortable and out of that armor, when there was a rap at the door right beside Wednesday’s head.
The two separated fast and watched each other, frozen. The Princess noticed Wednesday’s lips were red and swollen, her brown eyes darker than she’d ever seen them and her chest heaving under the breastplate.
“Your Highness?” A high voice came from the other side. Agnes. “May we come in?”
“One—“ Enid croaked. She cleared her throat. “One moment.”
Enid stepped back into Wednesday, watching her face closely and noticing part of the redness on her lips was her own lipstick.
“Oh Gods,” she said, wiping the lipstick from around Wednesday’s mouth away with her thumb. “Your braid is coming undone too.”
“That must’ve been your hands, Your Highness,” Wednesday teased, voice still a little raspy.
Even after what they’d just been doing, Enid blushed.
“Shut up, you have to go. The maids will talk, Agnes for sure.”
“Does that concern you?” Wednesday asked with a frown.
Enid bit her lip, looking into deep brown eyes.
“I don’t care who knows,” Enid said, then rolled her eyes with a groan. “But Agnes will gossip, Gods, that girl is insatiable.”
There was another rap at the door, stronger this time.
“Princess Enid?”
“Okay, you should really go.”
“Yes, but” Wednesday said, stepping up to her instead, “would you grant me one last kiss before I go so it may carry me through the night?”
“Are you kidding?” Enid replied, already breathless by Wednesday’s words. “How can I say no when you ask me like that?”
She leaned in, taking Wednesday by the sides of her jaw and pressing a sweet, gentle kiss upon her lips. Or at least that’s what she intended before her mind went blank and the feel of those plump lips became too addicting to stop.
A thundering series of knocks interrupted them.
“Princess Enid? Shall we seek the guard? Are you okay?”
“Fucking Agnes,” Enid mumbled. She gave her Knight one last peck before opening her door. “I’m fine! Jeez.”
“Oh.” Agnes stared at her, her gaze lingering first on Enid’s hair, then her mouth, before drifting to the room’s other occupant. A sly grin spread across her face. “Shall I bring a brush to tame that… tousled hair too, Your Highness?”
Enid squinted her eyes and pursed her lips. “That won’t be necessary, Agnes, my hair is fine.”
“As you wish,” Agnes said, stepping back to let Wednesday out of the room.
As the maids filled her tub with water and helped her undress, Agnes kept her smug little grin in place. It stayed there even after Enid was already in the water and the other maids were picking out her clothes for dinner—but definitely not out of earshot.
“Okay, out with it. You look like the cat that got the canary. Or the fox, maybe.”
“Oh, I was just thinking how dreamy it must be to have a Knight at your beck and call,” Agnes said with fake innocence. “And especially one so… attractive.”
Enid felt herself blush down to her neck. She tried to hide a few inches under the water, but that didn’t seem to help her predicament much.
“Is she? I hadn’t noticed,” Enid mumbled.
Agnes giggled, her chin coming to rest at the edge of the tub.
“Then I suppose you don’t want to know of a place in the castle where you two can be alone… and unbothered,” Agnes said teasingly.
Enid snapped her eyes to her, then to her other maids and then back to her. Agnes blinked at her innocently.
“Don’t be stupid, Agnes, of course I wanna know. Ugh! You’re insufferable.”
...
“Where exactly is this nest of rats that has you so alarmed?”
As Enid pulled her Knight up the stairs of the tower, Wednesday let herself be led blindly, knowing she would follow Enid to war if she asked her to.
“Um, up—top of the tower,” Enid replied vaguely.
“Why is a rat’s nest at the top of the tower of concern to you, Your Highness?”
Enid stopped suddenly in her tracks, right by the door to the empty secluded room that Agnes had told her about.
“You can—if we’re alone, I’d like it if you called me Enid. You know, like you did that one time in your room.”
Wednesday took pause, but bowed her head in agreement.
“Enid, then. Why are we here, really?”
“Oh, well.” Enid opened the door and pulled Wednesday fully inside, shutting it tight behind them.
The abandoned tower chamber was small and silent, its lone window opening letting the light and the fresh morning air in. Beyond the tower, the kingdom stretched for miles, and if you looked closely you could just make out the distant line where Nevermore gave way to Jericho.
“Well?” Wednesday asked. She moved about the almost empty room, noticing a big wooden crate, some sacks of rags and a lone chair. No rat’s nest to be seen.
“I just—“ Enid approached her, stopping way too close and putting a hand on the breastplate, letting her fingers slip where it met her neck. She bit her lip, looking at Wednesday through her lashes with shouldering eyes. “You know.”
“Oh, I see.”
“Do you—?”
Enid’s words were cut off by the Knight’s mouth on hers, hands on her hips walking her back until she hit the crate. Enid moaned at the ferocity and the fire she found in Wednesday’s kisses and touches. But she soon felt frustrated, as she couldn’t touch Wednesday back—not properly, at least.
“Will you please,” Enid asked, holding Wednesday by the neck, “take that stupid armor off? If I hadn’t seen you without it already I would think it was fused to you.”
Wednesday rolled her eyes but acquiesced. She taught Enid how to help, which buckles to undo, which straps to loosen, and how to lift each piece free without pinching her fingers. Soon the Knight stood before her in nothing but her black doublet, hose, and boots.
“Gods, I forget how small you are,” Enid breathed in awe. Where she had questioned it and mocked it before, she adored the size of her Knight now. Her subtle curves and feminine shape made her blood feel like fire in her veins.
Wednesday stared at her in a deadpan expression.
“My stature is not a hindrance, I’m still effective.”
Enid’s smile turned positively wicked. “Oh, I’m sure you are.”
They went back to kissing but it soon became clear to Enid that kissing Wednesday’s mouth would not satisfy her for long. She wanted more. And so the Princess took more.
The Knight’s neck was attacked first, bites and bruises left behind that she would have to hide with her helmet for the days to come. Hands roamed underneath the doublet, finding a firm stomach and supple breasts that Enid was delighted to finally meet.
Wednesday didn’t hold back either, taking Enid by the back of her thighs and lifting her on the crate, and then pushing her hands underneath the skirts to find endless miles of soft skin. Wednesday felt like she was being devoured, Enid’s lips and tongue so relentless she could feel her undergarments getting soaked.
A hand touched Enid where no one had ever touched her before and she gasped—not negatively, but in surprise.
“Is this okay, Enid?” Wednesday asked.
“Yeah,” Enid nodded. “But I’ve never done anything like this before.”
“Neither have I, my Princess.”
Enid could feel herself gush at the title, said with so much tenderness and care that it became brand new. They shared another kiss, slow but no less sensual, while Wednesday’s fingers touched her so sweetly and so dexterously, she had to hold onto her Knight’s neck for fear of floating away.
Her gasps and moans echoed in the empty room, and, fortunately, drifted into the skies through the open window, far from the ears of any passing servant.
All but one red-headed fox that sneaked down the stairs as those moans began, smug and satisfied by what she’d heard.
...
The tower became their refuge for a while, Wednesday and Enid learning each other in ways they’d never imagined. Sometimes, they would kiss for hours and touch each other softly and slowly. Others, Wednesday was on her knees and under Enid’s skirts just as she’d managed to close the door.
They started bringing up pillows and blankets, and would lay together after their love-making, looking at the stars out the window, reading to each other or talking about their lives.
After some months, Wednesday confessed that she’d always looked at Enid from afar, ever since she was eight. Enid wondered how that fancy never went away and Wednesday confessed that love is hard to get rid of.
That was the first time they declared their love for one another.
After a while, the whole castle figured out the true nature of their relationship and the news ended up reaching the Queen’s ears. Esther pulled Enid aside one day and told her:
“Oh, my daughter, you were always a little strange.” Esther had looked… neutral, if slightly amused. “At least you picked a Knight. Go on then, don’t bother me anymore. At least until you decide to marry her. I do love a wedding.”
Enid had felt so relieved and so hopeful, she had run up to her Knight in the middle of the barracks’ dining hall and kissed her straight on the mouth. There were hoots, hollers and whistles from the other members of the Guard, but neither of them cared much, for they had the blessing of the Queen of Nevermore.
The war to the south was won eventually, the magic of the lands of Nevermore protected and the enemies from Jericho expelled. After the battle ended, Queen Esther finally accepted Enid into their rituals of the moon, reassured that her daughter would not have to fight a war and wanting her to feel the blessing of the wolf.
Wednesday and Enid spent their days riding horses, hunting in the forest, dining with friends and making love in opulent beds now that everybody knew. A few years later, Wednesday sank to one knee and asked the Princess a question that she’d remember for the rest of her life:
“My love, my oath to your mother made me your Knight, and I shall continue to protect you, for it is both my duty and my will.” Wednesday reached into the pocket tucked inside her boot and withdrew a simple ring, holding it out to Enid. “But I wish to be bound to you by an even stronger oath. Enid Sinclair, will you do me the honor of being my wife?”
Enid said yes, of course.
At long last, Princess Enid Sinclair and Sir Wednesday Addams had found what they were searching for.
Every oath had found its home and every promise had found its keeper.
Oh, and they lived happily ever after. Duh.