I had a lot to think about after my meeting with Ms Berks. Too much, maybe. Even after thinking through a bunch of stuff, there’s still a lot more.

But I’m tired of thinking.

There’s nothing “exciting” for me on Wednesdays, yet I wake up early, feeling almost giddy. I wash and dress quickly, putting on the little makeup I use during the week. My hair, I want to braid it, but settle for tying it up with a more colourful ribbon than usual. When I inspect myself in the mirror, I’m pretty. Even when I don’t go out of my way to dress up, I’m still pretty, and that’s something no one has ever been able to take from me or Ellie. No, beautiful. I’m not going to settle for anything less.

On the way to breakfast, I walk past a few ladies and wish them a good morning as I do; most of them return it awkwardly, probably ninety per cent of the ladies at the school coming from my old school. I’m only being polite, you know. That I call out to them by their name is, of course, also being polite.

My greetings continue on to the group of ladies at the neighbouring table when I sit down for breakfast. When it’s time for class, I greet Gerald and his friends (those guys always here bright and early) before sitting down. Evan obviously gets greeted as well, and I ask him what he had for breakfast and if he enjoyed it, myself enjoying his bumbling answers.

Ah, it’s nice to hear people talking to me—even if it’s obligatory, even if it’s just a returned greeting.

The lessons do their best to ruin my mood, as dull as ever, but I hold out for morning break. Slumping onto my desk, I end up looking in Evan’s direction and he glances over at me. Then he fidgets for a bit, finally turning to face me.

“Did something good happen?” he quietly asks.

Honestly, he spoke so softly that I only half heard him. “Not really?”

The bashful prince he is, he always has an uncomfortable expression—since I’m looking at him. It’s like how you can’t see yourself blinking in the mirror. Unless I catch him unaware, he’ll always look at me with that discomfort. It doesn’t bother me, knowing that it’s more to do with his shyness than, say, disliking me or thinking I’m ugly.

But right now his expression softens and he says, “It’s just that… you’re smiling.”

I’m surprised, a second passing before I catch myself. “Is that strange?”

“Yes,” he says, nodding. “I don’t think I have seen you smile until now.”

“Not even when I tease you?”

His expression becomes complicated at that, returning to usual. “I would say those weren’t exactly smiles.”

I laugh freely, covering my mouth with the back of my hand. “You’d be right.”

In the short silence, I focus on him again and notice he’s gently smiling too. Before I can ask, he speaks. “I hope you smile more from now on. It suits you better.”

Oh I can’t let that one go, and my smile no doubt twists to match my words. “Are you saying I should smile just to please you?”

“N-no, of course not! I just meant, it’s… relieving to see you look happy.”

“So I should smile to relieve you?”

His hands tremble. They actually tremble! It’s too easy, and yet it’s too funny for me to swear I’ll stop.

Going back to that smile he seems so fond of, I say, “I’ll tell you what, as long as you promise not to fall for me, then I shall show you more of my smile. Doesn’t that sound fair?”

“What?” he says, a breathless question asked in surprise.

“Well, what is your answer?”

His wide eyes glitter, not exactly on the verge of crying but they’re probably prickling, and there’s a paleness to his skin rather than a blush. I worry for a moment I might have broken him. Then he seems to collect himself, blinking his eyes until they’re back under his control, and softly clears his throat.

“Okay,” he whispers.

“Wonderful! Then, to our friendship,” I say, offering him my pinky.

He looks at it dumbly.

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Oops. Pinky promises aren’t a thing here, are they? I suppose I can just start a new tradition. “We shake our pinkies and, if either of us breaks the promise, a faery will pluck our eyelashes one by one.”

He tenses up, frozen to the spot.

“Well? You shouldn’t leave a lady waiting,” I say, but I can’t say whether I’m smiling or smirking. With how he’s looking at me, I don’t think he can say either.

Hesitantly, he reaches out, and I loop my pinky around his. He doesn’t put up any resistance, letting me shake three times before letting go.

And for the briefest moment, my vision is full of these pinpricks of green light. It’s as if there’s thousands of them, swirling all across the room—some maybe even inside my eyeball, so bright and filling my vision while no doubt too small to see if not for the light they give off. While mostly spread out in random clumps, they certainly seem attached to Evan, almost like a glittering emerald tiara sits on his head.

Then it’s over, not even half a second passing. The spots burned into my vision take a little longer to fade, as if I glanced at the sun (or stared at a light bulb).

When I recover from the shock, I see Evan looking at me, worry on his face. “My apologies, the faeries just told me they’ve heard our promise and are ready to enforce it.”

Rather than the joke reassuring him, his top lip quivers.

Before I mistakenly break him any further, we’re interrupted by the familiar voice of an old friend, her imposing figure standing over us two in our seats. “What are you two doing, flirting so brazenly? Have you no shame?”

I smile brightly, looking up at Violet. Ah, you know, she still braids her hair like I did for her when we were kids. A small braid above her fringe, almost like a headband. It looks as good on her now as back then. I’m glad, those happy days not forgotten.

“If you would like to flirt with Lord Sussex, by all means do. However, I should warn you he is rather shy, so try to be gentle or I fear he may come to dislike you.”

She doesn’t pout or show any emotion at all. Oh how she’s grown into such a fine young lady. I’m proud of her, you know?

“As if I would do such a thing,” she says, her voice quieter.

After a little laugh, I try to clear things up. “Well, there’s no need to fret about us. I assure you, I haven’t so much as laid a hand on him,” I say. (It’s not like I can say I haven’t laid a finger on him any more.)

“You say that, yet you drag him off to that… club of yours.”

“I may certainly have been somewhat insistent the first time; however, he willingly attends.” I turn to him “Don’t you?”

With both me and Violet looking at him, he moves over in his seat—I imagine he’s a hair from falling off it entirely. “I… do attend of my own will?” he says, sounding a lot less convinced than he ought to.

“There we have it,” I say as I bring my hands together in a light clap.

Before Violet can get another word in, our pleasant conversation is interrupted by a certain clever prince. “Is something the matter here?” Gerald asks.

Taking stock of my surroundings, I guess we have made something of a scene? Violet’s friends are behind her—were, now pushed to the side with the arrival of Gerald. There’s no other chatter going on in the class, glances being sent our way.

Violet really should learn to control her volume.

“Nothing at all, Sir Ventser,” I say, smiling at him. “Lady Dover here is merely offering her advice and I am putting to rest her worries. You know how she is, very concerned about her friends and classmates.”

He doesn’t look like he believes a word I said. Neither does Violet for that matter, but she purses her lips, keeping whatever she wants to say to herself.

“Is that true?” he asks.

Putting on a smile, she turns to him and says, “Of course.”

Ah, to be young and in love. She looks at him so sweetly. Or, well, I guess that’s what passes as a sweet look for her. To me, it’s the polite sort of look you give someone in the hope that they stop speaking soon so you can run off to the bathroom. She’s even a bit pale, I wonder if she’s unwell? Ooh, it might be time for her monthly. Poor thing.

“I believe my lady has somewhere to be, if that is all, my sir,” I say, bowing my head to Gerald.

Of course, he recognises a dismissal when he hears one. He doesn’t look pleased by it, but, well, even if I want to get on well with him, my friend obviously comes first.

After a pause, he says, “Good day, then.”

“And you,” both Violet and I say.

He returns to the front of the room where his friends are, and Violet spares me one last look before rejoining her friends. Despite what I thought, she just goes back to her seat. Gerald catches that, looking my way right after, so I smile sweetly for him until he looks away.

That all sorted, I turn back to Evan.

“Are you okay?” I ask.

He’s covering his face, and I hear what sound like sobs. “Yes,” he says, his voice strained.

“You could have fooled me.”

Shaking his head, he says, “No, no.” A deep breath later, he continues. “You misunderstand. I just found what happened… too amusing.”

“Pray tell, what exactly was so amusing? I thought it was a perfectly normal conversation.”

With another calming breath drawn, he shows his face, a redness to it that I guess has nothing to do with my teasing (for a change). “Man or woman, there simply cannot be another person like you in this world. If there is and you both should happen to meet, I worry what would happen.”

“Thank you for the compliment,” I say, my smile wry.

Just one look at me and he has to cover his mouth again, jerks of laughter escaping him. “My apologies,” he manages to say, looking down at his desk,

You know, as much as I like teasing him, seeing him like this isn’t that bad either.

As it is, it takes him a whole minute to settle. There’s maybe a couple more minutes until the break ends. I think to leave things there for now, but he has other ideas.

“What I meant to say earlier is, even knowing you a little as I do and both clearly seeing and hearing everything that happened, I cannot say whether you played dumb or played them.”

I take it back, I need to tease him more. Putting together coherent sentences in front of me and making jokes, doesn’t he know who he is? Well, that aside, he has had an interesting thought knocking around his head.

In reply, I say, “I wonder?”

That sets him off again and this time he’s entirely a lost cause, earning himself a reprimand when break finishes and Ms Watton arrives.

What a fun day I’m having.