MAD HATTER !
( school for good and evil &&& sge!various x reader )

CHAPTER FOUR : clarity & carnations

WHILE THE PRINCESSES AROUND YOU SCRAMBLED in an attempt to better their appearances, your feet remained rooted and your gaze was kept locked onto the ghost of Aggie's reflection.

She left you and spared no time bothering to look back.

Agatha was your sister — in all but blood, yes, but your sister nonetheless. She was your sworn protector, your first and closest friend, as well as your shoulder to lean on, just as you were hers. For years, it was only within each other that you both had found true strength, and that was how it continued to be as the years stretched out.

That was, at least, until a friend in the form of princesses and pink, entered both your lives and made it all the better. Or so you liked to think, at least.

But now, as you were left in the aftershocks of her abandonment, your unblinking gaze misted and behind your silvery eyes, you slowly clicked the connection. You realized then that no matter who you were to her: sister, friend, or whatever else you may be to your Aggie — you were no longer her top priority.

And being yourself, you could completely understand that.

You wholeheartedly understood why she would leave you behind and scurry off to find the true princess amongst you three. The misplaced soul who was likely experiencing a torturous fate you were meant to be in, walking amongst oddities such as yourself, something you know she deemed a purgatory of sorts.

Whilst she wasn't aware, after all, you'd heard every single word she'd muttered in regards to how strange, how loony, and how mad she thought you appeared — how she would proclaim herself the beautiful princess, Agatha the possible witch, and yourself the maddest of all mad hatters in her realm of make-believe and fairytales.

Lost along the trail your mind had wandered, you failed to realize just how far you'd gone. That was the case, at least, until you reached a large theatre arm-in-arm with your newfound friends.

You subtly blinked upon the change of scenery, and even more so upon catching the genuine concern and care that flashed the two princesses' gazes. How odd it was, to catch such looks from individuals bar your dreamland companions. How truly odd.

Nonetheless, as you regained consciousness of your surroundings, you find yourself now in line, sandwiched between the two girls, and heading toward one of the many sparkling pink and blue pews on your side of the immense room.

Each school had its own entrance to the Theater of Tales, which was split into two halves. The west doors opened into the side for the Good students, decorated with the pink and blue pews you were now situated in, shimmering crystal friezes, and glittering bouquets of glass flowers. The latter having caught your fancy, admiring the way it sparkled in the sun, throwing a rainbow of colours in its wake.

You found yourself wondering if the fairies would allow you to pick a few before Agatha sends you on the express flight home. It would make for enchanting flower crowns, after all. Perhaps it would best fit Teddy, giving the image of a rainbow along a warm, summer beach. Or maybe it would suit your Jack Frost impersonator — giving him the inkling of colour his unsaturated colour palette so needed. Or perhaps, you could just request a whole bouquet of them, and weave crowns for all five of your boys and the two girls who'd quickly wormed their way into your monochrome heart.

Meanwhile, the east doors opened into the side for Evil students, with warped wooden benches, carvings of murder and torture, and deadly stalactites dangling from the burnt ceiling. To be frank, it reminded you much of 1 Graves Hill, of home. As students herded into their halves for the Welcoming, fairies and wolves guarded the silver marble aisle between them.

Whilst you made a point to pay much attention to Rory, who went to show you pages upon pages of her current read (you hadn't a clue where she pulled that book from, though didn't think much of it — the Nargles that shrouded her probably just enjoyed assisting, in comparison to those that teased and hid your belongings), your gaze constantly flew to the side parallel to yours.

You hadn't an objective to find, nor an individual you sought to spot.

Your gaze naturally pulled in the Nevers' direction for a reason you couldn't comprehend, albeit complied with. There sat a vision of outcasts, each differing from and contrasting so from the last, despite the same black potato sack they appeared to behold. You faintly smiled at the sight of your people, the same people who experienced plenty of the same instances you had in Gavaldon.

One girl had short, wispy hair, and one large eye instead of two.

Though you were respectful not to let your gaze linger, you couldn't help but wonder about the clarity of her vision. Would having one large eye compensate for the lack of two small ones? Perhaps it would have been more efficient to be born with one rather than two. You smiled at the thought, maybe then you would be able to weave yourself a proper flower crown. Not too big, nor too small, as you had unconsciously done over the years.

Another boy had a bald head glistening in sweat and grease, a round belly, and swelling limbs.

He reminded you much of a teddy bear. Your sister's old one, to be exact. Truth be told, you hadn't seen it in over half a decade, though the last you remember, it was quite a huggable plush, comforting and soft to the touch. It was quite roughened up (with one button eye bulging and its leg hanging by a string), though there was something oddly soothing about its death-like state.

There was another girl with princess hair—

Nevermind that. It was likely but a trick of the light. There was no trace of your friend, and all signs of her had gone.

Your eyes went further down the pews, sighting more varieties of outcasts than you thought possible. There was one girl with a hint of a tattoo peeking out through her clothes and another with white hair and ruby-red eyes. You could have sworn she even had little rats perched along her shoulders.

There was another girl who was plump, smiley, and brown-haired, both her fists full of chocolate. At the sight of her (her chocolates rather), your faint smile twitched higher. She was the type you were sure to be quick friends with, and if her radiant gaze your way was anything to go by, it appeared she thought the same.

Faces upon faces registered in your mind, albeit there was still something curious about the other side of the theatre.

A boy with wings, a girl with green-tinted skin, a boy with inky black hair and familiar dark eyes—

Something made you stop cold. And unlike the Good girls surrounding you, it wasn't the distant echoes of stomping boots, nor clashes of steel. Rather, your gaze lingered solely on that strange Never boy that smiled goofily your way, almost reminding you of . . .

Oh.

"Y/N! My lovely loon!" There was only one person who had managed to make that stabbing word sound affectionate. "It's me—"

No one but you heard. And no one, bar yourself paid him much mind.

"It's your hideous Hort!"

Suddenly, every memory you had of him, every moment you spent in his company, flashed through your mind. You recalled the night you met, all the time you spared along the seashore, and even the moments you spent in the company of your other dreamland companions.

However, unlike all the times before, his foggy face had cleared, and you had distinct features to place to his name. It was then that you realised. You only then, finally met the honest, kind, and real, Hort of Bloodbrook.

You wished to rush to him, to encase him in a hug, all the while knowing he couldn't handle both your weights and swiftly wobble to the ground. It's happened more times than you could count, after all. And truthfully, he found it unfortunate — how scrawny he was in comparison to them. . .

And speak of the devil, or in this case, devils, and they shall appear.

It was only then that you noticed the sixty or so attractive boys drawing roses from their shirts, and with a shout of "Milady!" throw them to the girls who most caught their eye. Whilst Beatrix found herself with enough roses to plant a garden, you found yourself particularly bewildered to have a few landing on your lap.

You looked around and saw a certain few send you winks and little waves, unbeknownst to Hort's sharp glare and deepening scowl. But as you glanced to find your two friends content, despite their empty grasps (bar Rory's book to which she cast her full attention), you decided to hand them one each with a faint smile. You needn't those strange boys' validation anyway.

Meanwhile, hidden beneath Evil's pews, Agatha watched all this, seasick. Although she was notably proud of your lack of care, smirking as she snuck a glance at your admirers, hoping to find them crumbling in wretched disappointment.

It was safe to say, however, that it was she who grew dismayed in the end, watching as they fawned over your supposed selflessness instead — this pit of frustration only deepening as she saw Sophie, heart in her throat, longing for her own bouquet of roses.

In the decayed pews, the villains booed the princes, brandishing banners with "NEVERS RULE!" and "EVERS STINK!" (Except for ragged Hort, who crossed his arms sulkily and mumbled, "Why do they get their own entrance?" silently seething at your three admirers.) With a bow, the princes blew kisses to villains and prepared to take their seats when the west doors suddenly slammed open again—

And two more walked in.

You failed to notice the exasperated look Rory and Marie traded, instead, looking on curiously at the pair of newcomers.

Hair a halo of celestial gold, eyes blue as a cloudless sky, skin the colour of hot desert sand, one glistened with a noble sheen, as if his blood ran purer than the rest.

Meanwhile, the other had that same look of confidence, an award-winning smile, and dark cinnamon locks, greatly complimenting the hazel-green crescents that set alight in his soft doe eyes.

The strangers took one look at the frowning, sword-armed boys, unsheathed their own swords . . . and grinned.

Forty boys came at them at once, but both disarmed each with lightning speed. The swords of their classmates piled up beneath their feet as they effortlessly flicked them away without inflicting a scratch. From below the pews, Sophie gaped, bewitched, and Agatha hoped they'd impale themselves. But no such luck, for the boys dismissed each new challenge as quickly as it came.

Meanwhile, perched on a blue pew, you stared ahead unblinkingly all the whilst your classmates flinched upon each clang and clamour of steel. You noticed the T on the blonde's blue tie glinting with each dance of his blade, and watched unphased as the B on the brunette's tie glimmered upon swiftly dodging an attack from behind, and being shone upon by a ray of sunlight.

And when the last had been left swordless and dumbstruck, the pair sheathed their swords, exchanged a short glance, and the blonde shrugged, as if to say he meant nothing by it at all. But the boys of Good knew what it meant. The princes now had two respectable kings. (Even the villains couldn't find a reason to boo.)

You silently watched, slight amusement swirling your hazy gaze as the Good girls (the great majority of them, at least) all jumped up, waving their kerchiefs and impersonating the jostling geese you would feed at home, as the pair of princes pulled a flower from their shirts — both of which, differing so from the rest.

In contrast to the blood-red roses all the other boys sent flying, the two pulled out a pair unlike even one another's.

King Arthur's son held between his fingertips a single, lavender carnation, all the while Marie's brother gently grasped a rose lavender in colour, and littered with a few petals of love's rich red.

They exchanged a short glance before silently raking Good's pews with careful eyes. It wasn't long before Marie met her brother's gaze, and he followed as she glanced to her side. It was then that your eyes met, and not long after, clashed with his friend's beautiful blues as well. Your faint smile nearly faltered, all the while theirs grew twice in size.

You could recognize those expressions anywhere.

You grew up accustomed to them, sighting them every time you met with. . .

"Teddy?" You found yourself faintly questioning as he stepped forth, handing you his flower with a now gentle smile. Tedros nodded, and couldn't help but chuckle, lightly brushing his thumb against your cheek with a nimble touch. You were the only person he allowed to call him that.

"Benji?" Your gaze switched toward the other boy as he stepped forth, lightly nudging his friend out of the way.

"Mon claire de lune," he affectionately uttered, handing you his rose and planting a short kiss on your knuckles. Your smile strengthened, if their familiar appearances didn't give their identities away, then the flowers they gifted sure did. The pair of princes, the gentlemen they were, always greeted you with those same flowers and the same affectionate actions as they just had.

Truth be told, you and Tedros didn't start off on the right foot — he found your peculiarities weird and your eccentricity all the more odd. Although, the more frequently you met, the more he grew accustomed, and eventually, even enchanted by all your different, clashing oddities. It just so happened you were not only his, but also his best mate's true—

Tedros and Benjamin were startled as a strange Never dashed into the aisle, leapt past pink pews, and lunged for the queen of their hearts, or more specifically, for her flowers. They surely would have slashed their blades at her, effortlessly disabling her of the opportunity, if not for the smaller hand that swiftly stilled theirs. Nonetheless, a wolf caught up to Sophie as well.

As it dragged her back to Evil, she glared spitefully into your silvery eyes. You returned her gaze with your usual, unblinking one — the same expression that unnerved her to the core and still managed to do so, even then.

As the wolf dumped Sophie, princess-haired in black tunics, with Evil and fairies shoved Agatha, scowling and primmed in pink, with Good, the two boys, Tedros most especially, gawked wide-eyed, trying to make sense of all that occurred in the last minute.

Nevertheless, they eventually shrugged, instead taking their rightful seats by your side (though Marie spent a moment wondering whether or not to make room for her brother).

"Do you know that girl?" Tedros' tone was laced with blatant distaste, attempting to discard the said individual's piercing gaze from the other side of the theatre. "She's my friend, Sophie."

"Doesn't seem much like a friend to me, darling." His voice went lower in an attempt to conceal his growing irritation. Benjamin interjected himself into the conversation, "That's the same one who did all sorts of 'experiments' on you, correct?"

You hummed distractedly in confirmation, oblivious to the look they traded. A blue butterfly had somehow flown onto your little bouquet, snagging your full focus. You tilted your head as it fluttered toward your stilled fingers, slowly climbing up your limb. Its gentle touch tickled your skin, leaving a trail of little bumps in its wake.

In contrast to the harsh expressions, glances, and actions that had occurred within the past few moments, the little, almost-lavender butterfly, provided you a sense of comfort you hadn't an idea you needed.

It reminded you of home. Its intricate wings reminded you of your father's illustrations. And its soft flutters led memories of your father's piano pieces to resurface. The little butly, the same one that led you to your dreamscape companions, had brought you solace even in such a strange place as this — it brought you to the five individuals that proved to be your sanctuaries, your safe spaces, as all this time had come and gone.

"Welcome to the School for Good and Evil," the nicer wolf's voice brought you out of your haze. The massive dog with two heads attached to a single body paced across a silver stone stage, cracked down the middle. One head was rabid, drooling, and male, with a grizzly mane. The other head was cuddly and cute, with a weak jaw, scanty fur, and a singsong voice. No one was sure if the cuter head was male or female, but whatever it was, it seemed to be in charge.

"I'm Pollux, Welcoming Leader," said the nice head. "AND I'M CASTOR, WELCOMING LEADER ASSISTANT AND EXECUTIVE EXECUTIONER OF PUNISHMENT FOR ANYONE WHO BREAKS RULES OR ACTS LIKE A DONKEY," the rabid one boomed.

All the children looked scared of Castor. Even the villains.

"What adorable puppies. . ." Meanwhile, you were unphased by Castor's bellowing voice, your smile twitching higher all the while the two princes chuckled disbelievingly. Only you would have such a peculiar opinion, they thought, inching closer towards you, having flinched.

"Thank you, Castor," said Pollux. "So let me first remind you why it is you're here. All children are born with souls that are either Good or Evil. Some souls are purer than others—"

"AND SOME SOULS ARE CRAP!" Castor barked.

A small frown momentarily tugged on your lips, the sight pulling painfully on three individuals' heartstrings.

"As I was saying," said Pollux, "some souls are purer than others, but all souls are fundamentally Good or Evil. Those who are Evil cannot make their souls Good, and those who are Good cannot make their souls Evil—"

"SO JUST 'CAUSE GOOD IS WINNING EVERYTHING DOESN'T MEAN YOU CAN SWITCH SIDES," snarled Castor.

The Evers surrounding you cheered, "EVERS! EVERS!"; Evil students retorted, "NEVERS! NEVERS!" before wolves doused Evers with water buckets, fairies cast rainbows over the Nevers, and both sides shut up.

"Once again," said Pollux tightly, "those who are Evil cannot be good and those who are Good cannot be Evil, no matter how much you're persuaded or punished. Now sometimes you may feel the stirrings of both but this just means your family tree has branches where Good and Evil have toxically mixed. But here at the School for Good and Evil, we will rid you of stirrings, we will rid you of confusion, we will try to make you as pure as possible—"

"AND IF YOU FAIL, THEN SOMETHING SO BAD WILL HAPPEN TO YOU THAT I CAN'T SAY, BUT IT INVOLVES YOU NEVER BEING SEEN AGAIN!"

"One more and it's the muzzle!" Pollux yelled. Castor stared at his toes. "None of these brilliant students will fail, I'm sure," Pollux smiled at the relieved children.

"You say that every time and then someone fails," Castor mumbled. You hadn't heard a word, instead fiddling with the fingers that wrapped warmly around yours.

"Every child in the Endless Woods dreams of being picked to attend our school. But the School Master chose you," said Pollux, scanning both sides. "For he looked into your hearts and saw something very rare. Pure Good and Pure Evil."

"If we're so pure, then what's that?" An impish blond boy with spiky ears stood from Evil and pointed to Sophie.

A burly boy from Good pointed to Agatha. "We have one too!"

"Ours smells like flowers!" yelled a villain.

"Ours ate a fairy!"

"Ours smiles too much!"

"Ours farted in our face!"

Sophie turned to Agatha, aghast.

Beatrix, who looked just about to add on, glanced your way — you were strange, likely even an accomplice to your fellow readers and their suspicious acts. However, one silencing glance from Tedros, and the words went stuck to her throat.

"Every class, we bring two Readers, and in this year's case, three, here from the Woods Beyond," Pollux declared, the mention of a third raising mutters and expressions of confusion. "They may know our world from pictures and books, but they know our rules just as well as you. They have the same talents and goals, the same potential for glory. And they too have been some of our finest students."

"Like two hundred years ago," Castor snorted.

"They are no different than the rest of you," Pollux said defensively.

"They look different than the rest of us," cracked an oily, brown-skinned villain.

Students from both schools murmured in agreement, some making snide comments and a fair few, muttering compliments. You indeed, like the two girls, stood out from your school's standard of beauty, though that didn't bother you.

Meanwhile, Sophie finally took her glare off your unbothered form, and stared down Agatha, as if to say this could all be solved with a simple costume change.

"Do not question the School Master's selections," said Pollux. "All of you will respect each other, whether you're Good or Evil, whether you're from a famous tale family or a failed one, whether you're a sired prince or a Reader. All of you are chosen to protect the balance between Good and Evil. For once that balance is compromised . . ." His face darkened. "Our world will perish."

A hush fell over the hall. The two princes squeezed your hand at the thought and Hort met your hazy gaze, concern shining through. Agatha, on the other hand, grimaced. The last thing she needed was this world perishing while you three were still in it. Castor raised his paw.

"What," Pollux groaned.

"Why doesn't Evil win anymore?" Pollux looked like he was about to bite his head off, but it was too late. The villains were rumbling.

"Yeah, if we're so balanced," yelled Hort, "why do we always die?"

His words spiked a sense of concern within you. You didn't want your friend to die. . .

"We never get good weapons!" shouted the impish boy.

"Our henchmen betray us!"

"Our Nemesis always has an army!"

Hester stood. "Evil hasn't won in two hundred years!"

Castor tried to control himself, but his red face swelled like a balloon.

"GOOD IS CHEATING!"

Nevers leapt up in mutiny, hurling food, shoes, and anything else at hand at horrified Evers — your soft laughter caught your friends' full attention, the four of them soon joining in on the laughter, all the while the princes swiped at the miscellaneous objects that aimed for yours, Rory, and Marie's heads.

Wolves and fairies pounced on the angry horde of Nevers, but this time rainbows and water couldn't stop them.

"The School Master's on their side!" Hester screamed.

"We don't even have a chance!" howled Hort.

The Nevers fought past fairies and wolves, and charged the Evers' pews—

"It's because you're idiotic apes!"

The villains looked up dumbly.

"Now sit down before I give all of you a slap!" shrieked Pollux.

They sat without argument. (Except for Anadil's rats, who peeked from her pocket and hissed.)

Pollux scowled down at the villains. "Maybe if you stopped complaining, you'd produce someone of consequence! But all we hear is excuse after excuse. Have you produced one decent villain since the Great War? One villain capable of defeating their Nemesis? No wonder Readers come here confused! No wonder they want to be Good!"

"Students, all of you have only one concern here," Pollux said, softening. "Do the best work you can. The finest of you will become princes and warlocks, knights and witches, queens and sorcerers—"

"OR A TROLL OR PIG IF YOU STINK!" Castor spat.

Students glanced at each other across the aisle, sensing the high stakes.

While you wouldn't admit it aloud, you were quite worried for your sake. You weren't pure Good, nor were you pure Evil. You weren't pure anything. You were told to be of muddied blood, and muddled mind even back in Gavaldon — a "Mudblood," the children often teased when they grew bored of "Loony Y/N".

Somehow catching your mood's sudden shift, Ben traced little stars along your soft palm, all the while Tedros brushed a lock of loose hair behind your ear.

Surprisingly, Hort too, appeared as though longing to hug you from the other side of the aisle.

"So if there are no further interruptions," Pollux said, glowering at his brother, "let's review the rules."

"Rule thirteen. Halfway Bridge and tower roofs are forbidden to students," Pollux lectured onstage, not seeming to notice how the great majority had begun yawning. "The gargoyles have orders to kill intruders on sight and have yet to grasp the difference between students and intruders—"

Tedros licked his lips, white teeth gleaming through in perfect rows as he grinned at the sight of your sleeping figure, your head resting snugly on his shoulder. Your breath tickled his neck, and he couldn't contain his shiver, uncomfortably aware of the trickle of sweat crisscrossing his neck, chilling from your soft exhales, and vanishing beneath his shirt.

He felt almost as though you were teasing him, testing his limits until he cracks, spilling the years' worth of feelings he had contained for you. But he couldn't. He shouldn't. He had, after all, promised his friend, himself, as well as his late father that he would hold out until the Circus of Talents. Then, you could finally be engaged.

Well, engaged to be engaged, to be engaged. But who's counting?

Meanwhile, as the childhood friends exchanged this moment of subtle affection, Sophie seethed from her seat. Tedros Pendragon was hers. Perhaps he wasn't sure of it yet, with herself being in such hideous rags and all, but it was true. She'd yet to feel a connection such as that which they shared, after all. However, as she stared menacingly into her so-called friend's unconscious form, she couldn't help but loathe the girl, coming up with idea upon idea in order to refocus her prince's attention onto her — the true princess of all those within the hall.

However, she found her plotting cut short as a headless bird landed on her dress. She jumped on her seat, screaming and shaking her tunic until the dead canary plopped to the floor — the noise, failing to awaken the butterfly enthusiast, the two princes noted relievedly. She recognized the bird with a frown — then noticed the entire hall gaping at her. She gave her best princess curtsy and sat back down.

"As I was saying," Pollux said testily.

"Your first year will consist of required courses to prepare you for three major tests: the Trial by Tale, the Circus of Talents, and the Snow Ball," Castor growled, and at the mention of the latter events, the two princes exchanged a grin, eyes flicking toward their sleeping beauty. "After the first year, you will be divided into three tracks: one for villain and hero Leaders, one for henchmen and helper Followers, and one for Mogrifs, or those that will undergo transformation."

"For the next two years, Leaders will train to fight their future Nemeses," Pollux said. "Followers will develop skills to defend their future Leaders. Mogrifs will learn to adapt to their new forms and survive in the treacherous Woods. Finally, after the third year, Leaders will be paired with Followers and Mogrifs and you will all move into the Endless Woods to begin your journeys . . ."

"Now as to how we determine your future tracks, we do not give 'marks' here at the School for Good and Evil," said Pollux. "Instead, for every test or challenge, you will be ranked within your classes so you know exactly where you stand. There are 120 students in each school and we have divided you into six groups of 20 for your classes. After each challenge, you will be ranked from 1 to 20. If you are ranked in the top five in your group consistently, you will end up on the Leader track. If you score in the midrange repeatedly, you'll end up a Follower. And if you're consistently below a 13, then your talents will be best served as a Mogrif, either animal or plant."

Students on both aisles murmured, already placing bets on who would end up a tumbo tree. (Tedros uttered little jokes about Rory more than likely being willing to become one, so long as she'd serve a proper material to shield books. The said girl failed to object.)

"I must add that anyone who receives three 20s in a row will immediately be failed," said Pollux gravely. "As I said, given the exceptional incompetence required to earn three straight last-place ranks, I am confident this rule will not apply to any of you."

The Nevers in her row threw Sophie a look.

"When they put me where I belong, you'll all feel foolish, won't you?" Sophie shot back.

"Your swan crest will be visible on your heart at all times," Pollux continued. "Any attempt to conceal or remove it will likely result in injury or embarrassment, so please refrain."

Students on both sides tried to cover the glittering silver swans on their uniforms, folding the droopy collars of their tops to obscure their swans — instantly the crest vanished off their robes and appeared on their chests. Only when they released the fold did the swan vanish off their skin and reappeared on the robe.

"Furthermore, as the Theater of Tales is in Good this year, Nevers will be escorted here for all joint school functions," said Pollux. "Otherwise, you must remain in your schools at all times."

"Why is the Theater in Good?" Dot hollered through a mouthful of fudge. Tedros flinched as you suddenly awoke. Perhaps it was the chocolate, he thought, aware of your passionate adoration for pudding.

Pollux raised his nose. "Whoever wins the Circus of Talents gets the Theater in their school."

"And Good hasn't lost a Circus or Trial by Tale or, now that I think about it, any competition at this school for the last two hundred years," Castor harrumphed. Villains started rumbling again.

"But Good is so far from Evil!" Dot huffed.

Pollux ignored the Nevers' grumbles and droned on about curfew times, lulling half the room to sleep. Reena raised her hand. "Are Groom Rooms open yet?"

All of a sudden the Evers — Tedros, most especially — looked awake, something the three girls, as well as Ben, noted with an exchange of amusement. Ben and Ted had made mention to you the Groom Room several times before, the latter expressing his unabashed excitement for it long before he'd even hit puberty.

"Well, I was planning to discuss Groom Rooms next assembly," Pollux said—

"Is it true that only certain kids can use them?" asked Millicent.

Pollux sighed. "Groom Rooms in the Good Towers are only available to Evers ranked in the top half of their class on any given day. Rankings will be posted on the Groom Room doors and throughout the castle. Please do not abuse Albemarle if he's behind on posting them. Now as to curfew rules—"

Sophie sprang up. "Do we have Groom Rooms?"

Pollux pursed his lips. "Nevers have Doom Rooms, dear."

"Where we get our hair done?" Sophie beamed.

"Where you're beaten and tortured," Pollux said.

Sophie sat down.

"Now curfew will occur at precisely—"

"How do you become Class Captain?" Hester asked. The question and the presumptuous tone behind it instantly made her unpopular on both sides of the aisle, though you didn't mind. Being confident wasn't a bad thing, you admired her bravery in terms of freely expressing herself.

"If you all flunk curfew inspections, don't blame me!" Pollux groaned. "All right. After the Trial by Tale, the top-ranked students in each school will be named Class Captain. These two students will have special privileges, including private study with select faculty, field trips into the Endless Woods, and the chance to train with renowned heroes and villains. As you know, our Captains have gone on to be some of the greatest legends in the Endless Woods."

Tedros and Benjamin traded a competitive glance at the mention of Class Captains. After their earlier performance, both thought it safe to say they were the perfect candidates for such a position.

"This year you will have six required classes in your individual schools," Pollux went on. "The seventh class, Surviving Fairy Tales, will include both Good and Evil and takes place in the Blue Forest behind the schools. Also please note, both Beautification and Etiquette are for Good girls only, while Good boys will have Grooming and Chivalry instead."

The corners of your lips tipped downward at the latter of their words. Beautification and Etiquette were for girls, whilst Grooming and Chivalry were for boys. Surely there was some form of self-defence for the girls, no? If you were to be surviving fairy tales as another class points out, then there must have been a class to fill in the gap between the male and female's capabilities at self-operating in the face of danger. . .

"Breakfast and supper will take place in your school supper halls, but you'll all eat lunch together in the Clearing," Castor grunted. "That is, if you're mature enough to handle the privilege."

Sophie felt her heart race. If the schools ate their lunches together, tomorrow would be her first chance to talk to Tedros. What would she say to him? And how would she get rid of your beastly self? In truth, Sophie was truly astounded to see just how quickly a person such as yourself, was able to befriend her man. Perhaps you truly were a witch, and perhaps you had cast one of your witchy spells on him while he was vulnerable!

Oh, now you really had to go.

"The Endless Woods beyond the school gates are barred to first-year students," said Pollux. "And though that rule may fall on deaf ears for the most adventurous of you, let me remind you of the most important rule of all. One that will cost you your lives if you fail to obey."

Benji was sure to tap your shoulder upon those words. While he had internally memorized everything so far and planned to write them all down for you (he was acutely aware of your short attention span), he hoped you would at least digest the most important rule. He wouldn't want you disappearing before the Circus of Talents, now did he?

"Never go into the Woods after dark," said Pollux.

His cuddly smile returned. "You may return to your schools! Supper is at seven o'clock sharp!"

As everyone rose, the Ever boys making an effort to assist at least one Ever girl (you had two gently guiding each of your hands), a voice abruptly ripped through all the chatter—

"How do we see the School Master?"

The hall went dead silent. Students turned, shell-shocked. And you couldn't help but think back to the man from the forest. You hadn't a clue if he were just some figment of your imagination, or if he were a being of plain, harsh reality. But what you did know, was that his eyes had burned themselves into your mind — so oddly familiar, and so strangely comforting, you couldn't seem to forget him.

Agatha stood alone in the aisle, glaring up at Castor and Pollux.

The twin-headed dog jumped off the stage and landed a foot from her, splashing her with drool. Both heads glared into Agatha's eyes, wearing the same ferocious expression. It wasn't clear who was who.

"You don't," they growled.

Everyone was led to exit the theatre, the fairies and wolves appearing as though nothing out of the ordinary had occurred.

As Evil filtered East and Good went West, the halls were filled with chatter, boys assisting girls, and girls smiling elegantly as they batted their eyes. It appeared to be their means of conversation around here, you wondered strangely, though you were only left to look on in a daze.

Warm hands still wrapped around your cold ones, you swung them back and forth as you skipped down the hall (Ben and Tedros were quick to balance you when you stumbled), following the rest of the princesses as they headed toward Charity Tower.

As you hummed under your breath, gazing around the halls in curiosity, you failed to catch the dopey smiles the two princes bore.

At that moment, as the lunar light shone upon you, you hadn't a clue, but perhaps Sophie was right. Perhaps you had, somehow, managed to bewitch the two bachelors that squeezed your hand thrice — each yearning to voice the words of their hearts, though at the same time, desiring to let the moment last forever.

However long forever may be.

MAD HATTER
edmundxtorch