#moonacreweek2024

Fairytales are some of the most important works of fiction known to man. While commonly disregarded, overly saturated, and disney-fied, Fairy tales provide the basis for understanding human history. The examination of politics, religions, culture, and a singular thread that pulls nations together. For if one fairy tale was told in Europe, rest assured that many other cultures would have shared similar fables, even if they had never told their stories to the other. Warnings for children, for emperors and kings, the very basis for literature itself, the fairy tale is not something easily overlooked, but is the base of modern community. After all, what brings humanity closer together than rooting for the common goal? Of good rising above evil, true love, and a bit of magic to pull it all together. 

*

Maria wove between the rows, holding a red apple in her hand. Perhaps a bit over dramatic, but she wanted it to serve her point. “We have many reasons to thank fairytales, for the symbolism they offer, the lessons. For this reason-” Maria paused before her desk, tossing the apple into the air before catching it. “I would like you to write your own fairy tale.” Que groans. Maria smiled. “I want this to include several things, but let’s not get ahead of ourselves and write everything. Some stories offer political critique, others warnings; I want something unique. You may borrow ideas, such as sleep curses, but please do your absolute best to be original. Grades will be based on creativity, the substances of the story itself, hidden themes, and of course grammar and other such English nonsense.” 

There was a spatter of laughter from some of her favourite students. 

“The assignment is due Friday and your time starts-” Maria shook her wrist until her watch faced up. “Now.” 

There was the flutter of paper and hushed voices as ideas were spread around, or quiet worry at the idea of having to write something for English. The horror. 

Maria tossed the apple one last time before rounding her desk and taking a seat. 

*

At three on the dot, Maria opened the door to her class, unleashing her students upon the world, watching them run free as the school day came to an end. At the same time, across the hall, Mr. De Noir’s classroom door flung open, and his students made hers appear as well mannered and polite little angels.

Mr. De Noir leaned in the doorway, his arms crossed as he sent a smirk her way. “Miss Merryweather.” 

Maria lifted a brow. Why her uncle had even hired him on the staff she would never understand. He was hardly a respectable teacher, half the time she had to send a student across the hall to tell his to settle down, and he was never dressed up to code. 

Kitten heels, a pencil skirt that hit right above her knees, and a blouse, Maria at least appeared professional. She couldn’t remember the last time she had thought ‘oh yes, let me don jeans to go to work, that’s appropriate,’ and yet there he was. Rumpled denims, a wrinkled button up that wasn’t tucked in, even his sleeves were pushed up to his elbows. 

The students adored him, and yes he had amazing recommendations, and credentials, but that did not mean he was Moonacre material. She just knew the old headmistress, Jane Heliotrope, would never have put up with his misconduct. 

“Did you start them on their assignment today?” Maria asked cordially, because someone had to be looking out for the students. 

“What? The fairy tale stuff?” He nearly scoffed. “Yeah, we’re saving that as a free write on Friday.”

Maria’s jaw dropped, “Wha- what do you mean by that? You’re completely disregarding the curriculum?” 

He gave her a laugh, “Oh, c’mon, you know that’s a guide more than anything.”

“Right.” Maria crossed her arms, “And I bet you aren’t having any kind of lesson gearing up to Friday? About the cultural and historic importance fairytales have on society and literature?” 

His smirk deepened, “Nope.”

“So what on earth did you teach them on? If you were able to teach them anything?” Maria asked. 

“The importance of communal and oral traditions. Then we discussed.”

Maria rolled her eyes, because ‘discuss’ was just his excuse to let the class go wild. “That sounds more like a history lesson.”

He shrugged, “History and literature, unfortunately, overlap.” 

Maria bit her tongue and glared, “Right. And you refused to teach on fairy tales because…?”

“Because, Princess, fairy tales have a different kind of connotation nowadays.”

Maria bristled at the nickname. It had started when he had learned the headmaster was her Uncle…

Well, it wasn’t particularly hard to guess that they were related, due to their last names being the same, but he assumed that she had been a legacy hire when that couldn’t be farther from the truth! In fact, she had been hired by Ms. Heliotrope a year before her retirement and Benjamin’s promotion. 

“But that is the exact reason we're supposed to be teaching on them! To disrupt their previous notions!” Maria flung her arms out to further make her point, but she knew she was just getting more and more frustrated, while he kept smirking at her. 

“And that’s why we slowly work up to calling them fairy tales, so by the end of the week, they have a full grasp and understanding of what a fairytale is beyond the Disneyfication.” He clapped his hands together, “Right, I have a long week ahead, and you, I’m guessing have some studying to do? Since you’re not doing any work to mould the curriculum to your class so they can reap the most of it.” 

He turned, the door to his class shut before she could get another jab in. But she stood in the hall, slightly impressed, but mostly irritated. Her thoughts wandered to her Uncle, but telling on a fellow teacher was childish, and she could handle him herself. 

*

“But I knew it was him! His thoughts and ideas getting into their heads.” Maria complained, her eyes narrowed and arms crossed, she hunched over herself on the garden bench sitting outside her Uncle’s home. 

Benjamin had never bothered with the upkeep of his garden, he had simply just let it grow wild over the years, but that summer, he had taken an odd interest in it. Removing all the weeds and ploughing the dirt, he replanted the areas that had once been overgrown grass with growing thyme, and the garden beds with geraniums, of all colours, but primarily salmon pink. 

It was better than his other hobbies: sulking or drinking. 

“That’s not appropriate,” Benjamin said, removing a dirtied glove from his hand. 

“No, it’s annoying.” Maria rolled her eyes. “And I have no idea when he did it! I mean, we were barely speaking yesterday about the curriculum, and today I hear my students talking about how the ideas of fairy tales have been corrupted by modern understanding and Disneyfied! Those are the exact words he used! Can you believe it? I mean, opening his office hours to my students in some lame attempt to contradict what I’ve already taught them.” 

“Well, I can’t let him scalp your students.” 

Maria rolled her eyes, “It doesn’t matter, I’ll tell him off tomorrow morning and we’ll just have to go from there.” Maria reached over and picked a globe of geraniums before tucking it behind her Uncle’s ear. “So pretty.”

He gave her a glare, but over the years it had lost any ferocity it once held. 

*

Maria stood in front of the kettle, waiting for it to go off, her cup all but ready with her tea bag, when a dark presence slid next to her. 

“I knew you just couldn’t resist.” 

Maria breathed out deeply, calmly, as in the corner of her eye Mr. De Noir leaned against the counter next to her. “Resist what?”

“Using your nepo baby powers to get me in trouble, are you disappointed I didn’t get sacked?”

Maria sighed, lifting the kettle as the light went from green to red, and poured her steaming water into her cup. “Mr. De Noir, I have no idea-”

“My office hours got taken from me.” 

Maria paused, but finished pouring and refilled the kettle. She stuck a fist on her hip and turned to look at him. “What? But I didn’t-”

“And I’ve been placed over the after school detention for the next two weeks-”

“But I didn’t-!”

“And Saturday!” He didn’t glare at her, no he would never, but where he was usually teasing and lighthearted, he seemed genuinely upset with her. 

And then it hit her. 

It was her fault. 

She placed a hand over her mouth. 

Benjamin. 

“Oh, now she remembers.” He looked away from her, discontentedly, into the empty teacher’s lounge. “Y’know, my students make good use of those hours, and unlike you, I have plans on the weekends.” 

“You don’t know what I do after school.” She muttered, her first reaction to defend herself. “Mr. De Noir, I- I didn’t- I’ll fix this, I promise, and until then, tell your students they may come to me during my office hours.”

Mr. De Noir gave her an odd look as he examined her face. 

“What?”

“I- you seem genuinely concerned.” He said. 

Maria rolled her eyes, “Yes, well when I was complaining to my Uncle I thought I was complaining to my Uncle, not Headmaster Merryweather.” She glared, crossing her arms. Goodness, how would she even broach this? She supposed she’d have to schedule a meeting, and go from there-

“Merryweather? Don’t go catatonic on me.” 

Maria broke out of her thoughts and gazed up at Mr. De Noir, she reached out to touch his shoulder, and in all sincerity said, “I will fix this.” 

He cracked a grin, “Don’t need to get all noble on me, Merryweather, it’s just two weeks. And technically I deserve it.”

“It isn’t bad for students to get multiple perspectives… sometimes.” 

He shrugged, and Maria realised she still had her hand on her arm. She snatched it away, her cheeks suddenly feeling warm, before Mr. De Noir reached out and handed her cup to her. 

“From my understanding, Merryweather’s are pretty stubborn, so good luck getting him to change his mind.” Then, he turned and left her alone in the teacher’s lounge, with a swiftly cooling cup of tea. 

She added some sugar cubes, and sped walked her way to her Uncle’s secretary, demanding to speak with him during her open hour. 

*

After an hour, Maria closed her office. 

A few of her students, and a few of Mr. De Noir’s students, had come to speak briefly with her, but beyond a few simple questions about tropes and symbolism, there were no deep inquiries. She had on her coat, and her briefcase in her hand, but when she looked across the way into Mr. De Noir’s dark classroom, a twinge of remorse pinged in her heart. 

With a singular and sudden determination, Maria made her way to the detention hall, which was actually just the meal hall, but was used for detention at set times. 

When she walked in the hall, a bit too proudly, the door swung out and banged against the wall, the sound of it echoing across the empty room and eight heads turned her way. Even Mr. De Noir, who had been sitting on top of one of the tables, slouching as much as he could while not lying on it, popped up at her entrance. 

Maria did her best not to let embarrassment wash over and kept her confidence as she came in, set her bag down on the floor, removed her coat, and joined Mr. De Noir on the table. 

“What are you doing here?” He asked, looking up at her with a strange mix of reverence and bafflement. 

Maria shrugged, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “I couldn’t convince my Uncle to let you go.” 

He huffed a laugh. “Told you.” 

Maria nudged his knee with hers. 

“Okay, so message received?” 

“It’s a bit boring, isn’t it?” 

Robin scoffed, finally pulling himself up off the table and leaning onto his knees. “Yes, for me, who's trapped here, but not for you.”

Maria checked her watch, “Only forty-five minutes left?” 

He grabbed her elbow and pulled her arm towards his face. “Just about.” 

“Well, I’d like to discuss our- differing takes on the curriculum with you.” She cleared her throat. “To give our students the best chance they have with their learning opportunities.” 

He quirked a brow. 

“Well, for example, you say Disneyfied like it's a bad thing.”

“Because it is.” 

Maria shook her head, “But would you not agree that all fairytales and myths evolved with the times, the elements changing with what was needed?”

A slow smile breached his features. “One could say that.”

“And, well, perhaps what the children of our time need is something a bit more hopeful than what original fairy tales tend to offer?”

“Or, we need to stop babying children, and let them watch things that will actually be beneficial to their mental development.” 

They continued on that way for a time, the argument never actually turning to be about their lesson plans, and even after Mr. De Noir dismissed the students, they continued on until they reached the parking lot. 

“I’m sorry again,” Maria said, knowing it was time to part but not really wanting to. “About the whole detention business, I never intended that.”

Mr. De Noir shrugged nonchalance, “It’s alright, I’ll just get you back.”

Maria twisted her lips to avoid smiling. “Well, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“I’ll be the one across the hall.”

*

There was very little one could do about rumours, and once they did get started, there was not much one could do beyond fan the flames. 

It was rather unfortunate for both Miss Merryweather and Mr. De Noir that one of the students in detention was a girl who had a friend in Ms. Merryweather’s class, who had often made the very keen observation that there was a certain chemistry underlying their quips and hallway fights. 

So of course, as soon as Ms. Merryweather stormed detention, and stayed by Mr. De Noir’s side for the duration, it was only her right to text her friend the developing story. 

The next morning, before class had even begun, all of Ms. Merryweather’s waiting class knew about the circumstances, and even without speaking a word, seemed to be in unilateral agreement. 

*

“Mr. De Noir!”

Robin paused his instruction at the whiteboard, turning back to see one of Ms. Merryweather’s students hanging in the door. 

“Yeah, do you need something?”

“Um-” The girl squeaked, “Ms. Merryweather needed your help in the supplies room. She said something about heavy boxes?”

Robin played with the marker in his hand. That wasn’t the Merryweather he knew. That woman would break her back before asking for his, or anyone’s, help. He put the cap on. “Lex, you’re in charge.” 

There was some grumbling about that decision, but he ignored it as he came to the door, holding it open for the student before shutting it behind him. He watched, rather suspiciously, as she stood by Merryweather’s class but didn’t go inside. When she looked back over her shoulder, he lifted his brows, and she squeaked before ducking into class. Then, when he peered into the windows, each and every head, which had been turned to watch him, snapped back to the front. 

Robin smirked, he could smell a plot a mile away, but who was he to foil their brilliant schemes? 

He wasn’t too surprised to hear the door opening again once he reached the end of the hall, and he was careful not to look back at the sound. It almost made him giddy, and he wondered if this was just the distraction, to get him out of class so something could be done in the ten minutes he’d be gone? Or, if he was walking into the trap.

Ms. Merryweather, he had no doubt, hadn’t played any part of it, as she would never encourage this kind of behaviour. 

As Robin walked into the supply room, he saw no sign of Merryweather, but then there was a sound of surprise, a fluttering sound like a flock of frightened pigeons taking flight, and a louder  smacking that came from the paper closet. Robin turned, just in time to see Merryweather being clouded in stacks of paper as they fell to the ground. 

“Mr. De Noir!” She choked. 

He chuckled, moving in on her and kneeling to start collecting the papers on the ground. 

“You don’t have to-”

“No, don’t worry, I know it was my fault-”

“No! No, I was being-” 

And then the door slammed shut. 

“Oh my god, what did you do?” Merryweahter asked, immediately turning on him to accuse him. “I had the door propped-” 

“I didn’t do anything! It-” Then, Robin sighed. “It’s the students.” Robin stuck his hand in his pocket to pull his phone out, but his pocket was empty, in fact all of his pockets were empty, he would learn, as he uselessly patted at them. “Do you have your phone?”

“Um-” Merryweather made a vague gesture to the little table outside, where he had passed her keys and yes, now that he thought about it, her phone had been there as well. 

“So we’re stuck.” 

“Well- I-” Merryweather looked down at him. “Yes, I guess we are. Fuck.”

“Language, we’re at school.” Robin mocked as he went back to stacking the papers.

“Right, sorry.”Maria shook her head and knelt down next to him, gathering papers and replacing them in the box she had tipped over. 

“You ever learn how to take a joke?” 

Merryweather pursed her lips. “I can take a joke, when it's made between friends.” 

“Oh, that smarts.”

Merryweather looked at him and scoffed. 

“What?”

“Are you implying we’re friends?” 

“Of course not, I’m your mortal enemy.” 

Merryweather cocked a brow, “My mortal enemy? And I’m not yours?” 

Robin smirked. “You don’t get under my skin the way I get under yours.” 

“What am I then? If not your mortal enemy?” She said, with a slight challenging glare.

Robin pretended to give it great thought. “Academic rival?” 

“Oh good, I didn’t think I’d be held in such high regard to be considered a rival.” 

He snorted. 

She smiled. 

“So, when do you think they’ll let us out?” Robin whispered, after the papers were tidied, and they had taken to sitting on opposite sides of the closet, her legs stretched out before her, ankles crossed neatly. 

“Who?” Merryweather asked, leaning forward as she whispered back. Her plan had been sending out a sheet of paper with a note written on it under the door, their only hope being another teacher would pass through and free them. 

“Our students.” Robin cuffed his hand over his mouth. “They’re up to something.” 

She stared at him blankly. “What do you mean?” 

“One of your students came to my class saying you needed help.” 

Merryweather scoffed, “Surely you knew that was a lie.” 

 Robin nodded, “Of course, as soon as she said you wanted my help.”

Merryweather fought a smile, crossing her arms as she looked out to the door. “So why did you come?” 

“I encourage mischief every once in a while, besides I figured they had sent me away to do something to the classroom, not lock me in a closet with my academic rival.” He nudged his knee against her foot. 

“You should give them all detention, they basically got a free period out of us.” 

Robin shrugged, leaning his head back against the shelves. “Who knows? That might be a good thing.” 

It wasn’t until a few minutes before the bell rang that good old Henry came to let them out, an odd and slightly suspicious look on his face. 

*

“Now, I’m not mad, just disappointed.” Maria said, more or less quoting her Uncle. 

She had only been lightly reprimanded for being locked in the closet and abandoning her students, but Robin seemed to, once again, take the full brunt of the punishment, as Benjamin assigned him another week of detention watch. 

“However, as punishment, Mr. De Noir and I have decided to extend your projects.” Maria beamed as her students groaned, she knew just across the hall, Robin was giving the same speech, something they had planned together after Maria closed her office hours, and came to him with a proposition in detention. “We will no longer be only asking you for an original fairy tale, but would instead ask you to perform it in the amphitheatre before both classes.” 

There was a devilish look on her face as her class got uproarious, and she let them settle before she spoke again. “The deadline is now extended to next Friday, however tomorrow I would like a first draft turned in. You may form groups of two to five, choose one fairy tale, and work out the logistics.” 

“The fairy tale we wrote, or any fairy tale?”

“Your fairy tale, Marissa.” Maria smiled. “And since yesterday you all had a free period, today will be a lecture day-” More moaning, “-Please pull out your notebooks, and we’ll begin.” 

*

Saturday, the parking lot was nearly empty save his car. 

Maria parked not next to him, but close, as she popped out, her scarf wrapped warmly around her throat. This new plan was risky, but she felt she owed it to him. 

He would protest of course, and he would tell her to go away, but it didn’t sit right in her heart. So of course, when she marched into the detention hall, Robin looked up and rolled his eyes. He slid off the table, leaving his book behind and met her half way. 

“Here to plot against our students again?” 

“Nope.” Maria said, removing her scarf and wrapping it around her hands, “I’m here to free you.” 

Robin’s smirk softened, “You know I’m on the clock for this and you’re not?” 

“I’m working on grading this morning.” Maria held up her briefcase. “It's just a change of location.” 

Robin rolled his eyes, “You would work on a Saturday.” 

“Yes, and you said you had plans, so go on, go.” Maria attempted to walk him around before he reached out and grabbed her arm. 

“What are you doing, Maria?”

She smiled, “Rescuing the damsel.” 

“Dam- Now hold on there, Merryweather, if anyone’s the damsel it’s you.”

“Oh?” Maria popped her hip, “How so?” 

Robin opened his mouth to list off the countless examples that would mark him as the daring hero, but he rather came up empty. 

“You’re the one trapped in the tallest tower, not me.” 

“I am not trapped here.”

“Precisely, go on, I’m rescuing you, go on, leave. I have dragons to slay.” 

He scoffed. “I can’t, I’ll get in more trouble.” 

Maria shrugged, “I won’t tell Headmaster if you don’t.” 

Robin struggled not to smile. “I can’t.”

“You can and you will.”

“Y’know, usually it's the other way around, the handsome young hero saving the princess.” 

Maria shrugged, “I rather like Cupid and Psyche.”

Then, there was something about the way his eyes lit up at her words that made her heart flutter, her stomach pitch, and her mouth run dry. Had that been a mistake? To imply that they were- that she was doing this out of- 

“This isn’t fair.”

“It’s perfectly fair.” Maria argued, “I was in your debt, now I’m not.” 

He shook his head, “You’re going to get me in trouble.” 

“I thought you liked mischief.” 

Robin smiled, and before Maria could make another comment, he reached out and squeezed her arm. “I still feel like I owe you for this, but thank you.” 

She almost thought he was going to lean down and kiss her, her cheek, ot temple, or her lips, but he turned and went back to get his book and jacket. 

Maria watched him leave, the door shutting behind him, and then the empty air for a few seconds before she glanced at the students, who were doing their best to avoid her eye and trying to stifle grins. 

She cleared her throat and got to work reading the fairy tales. 

*

Monday morning, she attempted to speak with her Uncle again. 

“Really, he doesn’t deserve any of it, and I know you said that you had to set standards, but this is ridiculous! Not even the students get this much detention!” She had started sitting down, but at some point she had gotten up to pace madly to and fro. “I mean it’s not just a detriment to him, but his students! Though not many of his students have taken me up on my offer, they may not feel comfortable with it! And beyond that, there’s usually a very fair rotation for the detention slots, and I think it’s been a while since it was my turn! And the closet thing wasn’t his fault! He only came in to help me, it’s not like he did it on purpose, that’s hardly worth another week of detention!”

“Maria-”

“I would understand if he had locked me in there, but he was trapped just as much as I was!”

“Maria-”

“And we both settled on how to discipline the students who, I already told you, were the real culprits!”

“Maria!” 

Maria jumped, her hand on her heart the other grasping the back of the chair. “Yes?”

“If you would really like to, I can take over some of his detention-”

“Oh really? You will!” Maria raced around the desk, wrapping her arms around her Uncle’s head and neck. “Oh thank you! I felt so guilty about all of it!” 

“Right.” Her Uncle muttered. “Guilt.” 

*

Robin sat on his desk, laughing as one of the students shared a more or less irrelevant story with the class which kind of had to do with fairy tales, when Maria knocked on the door and came into class. 

“Mr. De Noir, do you have a moment?” She asked, and some of the students had the audacity to laugh or gently ‘oooh!’ at his departure. 

He followed Maria out into the hall, mindful to stand in front of her so his students couldn’t get a good look at her facial expressions through the window. 

“I believe my debts are paid.” Maria beamed, “Mostly.” 

Robin cocked his head to one said. 

“I slayed the beast. Headmaster Merryweather said he would take over detention next week.”

“Really?”

“Yes.”

“What did you do- how did you-?” Robin cut himself off with a scoff, she was unbelievable. “Damn, I really was the damsel.”

“Language.” Maria’s eyes flashed to the window behind him, and when he took a look, the students ran away from the window and back to their seats. 

“You didn’t- You really didn’t-” He clenched his hand at his side, tempted to touch her again, tempted to wrap her in his arms and pick her up off the floor and spin her around. Instead, he marvelled at her, his eyes wide, his mouth open like an idiot, and he couldn’t look away. 

She blossomed under his gaze, her cheeks pinkening, her eyes glistening with pride. 

“You’re amazing.” 

*

Miss Merryweather kept Mr. De Noir company for the rest of his detention periods, the students noticed, and word spread very quickly. Some students, rather foolishly, got themselves in trouble so they would have to go to detention, so they could report back.

And it was very interesting how close they sat, and how often they gazed into each other's eyes without speaking, and how close they came to touching the other only to stop themselves before they got too close. 

The reports from detention made their way around, from student to student, until even the teachers heard, and placed their bets. 

“No, they’re both too stubborn,” Ms. Swann said, “Neither will admit to anything until it's unbearable.”

“Don’t underestimate Robin, he’s rather determined, and once he wants something that’s it.” Mr. Turner said. 

“But Maria has much more class than that.” Mrs. Fitzwilliam said. 

“That doesn’t mean she’ll deny herself the pleasure of a man’s company, especially one that looks like him.” Ms. Thomas suggested. 

And, inevitably, word got back to Headmaster Merryweather who was not completely unsurprised by the developments, after all he saw too much of himself in his niece. Falling in love with a supposed enemy was practically a family trait.

*

Maria sat down in the amphitheatre, her students settled and the first group ready to go, her rubric out on her clipboard, while Robin leaned back on the bench behind them, his own rubric off to the side as her students went first. They had a box of props and costumes for the students to use, and yes the girls did fight over who got to wear the pearls, and there was a massive disagreement on who got the sword with each group that came up. Whether or not the story had anything to do with swords. 

They watched each class file in, as they were instructed to come straight to the amphitheatre, and file out once they were done, though Robin and Maria hardly paid attention as they did. 

There was many a giggling, many a stare, and a many whispering that made their way across the classes, but Maria didn’t particularly care to take notice. 

She was too busy trying to ascertain if his knee pressed into her thigh was an accident or if he was doing it on purpose, and if his eyes were on her the whole day instead of any of the performances, and if he was arguing because he really disagreed with her or just for the sake of arguing. But when the final bell dismissed their last class, neither Robin nor Maria rose up to leave. They stayed, seated on the stone benches, her elbows on her knees, her chin in her hands as she stared up at him. 

There was something so captivating about his eyes when he spoke, something pleasant when his mouth moved, something enigmatic about how he motioned with his hands.  

“Tomorrow is your last day of detention.” Maria said, when an hour had passed and neither had moved. 

“Yes, and you don’t have to storm the castle for me.” Robin looked up at her as she stood to gather her things. “Hermes doesn’t have to tell me all the work you’ve done to make up for it.” 

She felt herself blush, because there it was again, this odd comparison. “Well, one could argue that my three dangerous tasks are complete.”

“Dangerous?” He grinned at the incredulous insinuation.

“Well, when one goes up against a man like my Uncle.” She twisted her face into one of horror and Robin laughed. “Though, I am afraid I will remain his servant forever.” 

“Yes, I suppose going up against him is quite daunting.” 

“Daunting indeed. But-” Maria bit her lip, turning away to look out at the amphitheatre. “Did I manage to fix the rift of my betrayal?” 

Robin stood and took her hand, “There was never anything to fix.”

If any students had stayed behind, they would have seen Mr. De Noir lean down to kiss Ms. Merryweather, and if any teachers had walked by on their way to the parking lot, they would have seen the two running off hand in hand like teenagers, and if Headmaster Merryweather had looked out the window of his office, he would have seen Mr. De Noir press Ms. Merryweather against her car as he kissed her again and again, but no did, and no one saw them getting into their cars and following each other out of the parking lot, and on Saturday, despite his best attempts, Ms. Merryweather came again, but she did not come to rescue him a second time. Rather, she sat with him, and if the students noticed they were sitting too close to one another, or that they held hands under the table, they kept their thoughts to themselves. 

*

Fairytales are some of the most important works of fiction known to man. They offer life lessons, human connection, magic, and some of our favourites: love. 

Not every fairy tale has a happily ever after, not every fairy tale ends with true love’s kiss, but who could argue that the most captivating ones have just a touch of that special magic? Not fairy godmothers, trickster sprites, or devils, but a very human emotion, a lasting emotion, one that resonates and rings throughout the centuries. 

“Well,” Rosie pulled the parking brake and let go of the clutch and brake pedal. “We’ve arrived.” Maria glanced antagonistically at the big and beautiful but also in a state of half-ruin mansion. She turned to Rosie. “You really can’t stay here for a night or two?” she asked and hoped she didn’t sound too childish. Rosie shook her head and the many braids gently swayed. “I’m sorry, Maria, you know how I’d like to help you, but your father needs me back tomorrow.”

It took them six hours to get here. The ride was awfully long for human standards - luckily enough Maria’s cat was happily sleeping in his crate on the backseat. Maria pursed her lips. Out of nowhere a chicken ran across the road, jumped on the hood of the car and, followed by a small bird, disappeared into some bushes. Rosie giggled. Maria’s grimace just darkened. “How am I supposed to live in the country? It’s so full of countryside!” She pointed at the bush with a bewildered face. Rosie solemnly nodded. “It’s really not that bad, Maria,” she assured, “I grew up in Wales in a village with no more than twenty people. It was very… it was a very insular community.” Maria, used to the hustle and bustle of London, muttered mockingly: “it was the ass of the world, that’s what it was.” “Maria!” reprimanded her Rosie. “I’m sure you’ll find it at least pleasing. Did Laura or Clarisse text you back?” Maria, for the uncountable time this car ride, checked her phone. “There’s no signal!” she exclaimed and slumped into the carseat. She turned to Rosie with a pitiful face. “How am I supposed to survive?” Rosie gently petted her knee. “I’ll inform them to write you SMS messages.” “Gods! They might as well write me e-mails!” She narrowed her eyes, “or actual letters. Rosie, we really can’t just go back?” Rosie deeply sighed. “You know there’s no one to take care of you in London. And the paperwork is done!” Maria waved it off as if the legal matters of this were just a small bump in the road. “I could live with you!” she argued helplessly. Rosie shook her head. “My apartment is not big enough for the two of us, Maria.” “We can live in our townhouse, please, Rosie!” Rosie bit her bottom lip. She furrowed her eyebrows before sighing defeatedly. “Do you want to know the real reason you were sent here?” Maria nodded her head rapidly. Rosie thickly swallowed. “You know how you’ve never been sent here for a summer vacation?” “It’s not like I’d like this middle of nowhere anyway.” Rosie shook her head, “your uncle and your father… they had a fight. I think you were about five or six - about a year after your mother’s passing.” Maria watched Rosie collect herself. “I don’t know what it was about, but your father was under a lot of pressure at the time and your uncle and he had a… well a screaming match. Over the phone, of course. He was screaming about how instead of doing anything useful, your uncle just holed up in here and refused to help your father.” She pursed her lips. “It was nasty.” “Then why am I here now?” “I think this is a sort of olive branch,” she rolled her eyes as she continued, “a… a peace offering.” “Peace offering,” Maria deadpanned. “To a man who refused to help father when he was down. And it’s in the country!” “I heard as a child you really loved it here.” “I’ve wised up since then!” she crossed her arms on her chest, “and anyway, I don’t remember any of it.” “Maria, if I could-“ “-you’d keep me in London I know. I’m sure father wouldn’t mind! Are you really going to leave me here with a bunch of strangers-“

She was interrupted by the big door of the mansion opening and a heavyset balding man with a face Maria could only describe as the epitome of a blank expression came out. He smiled widely at them, which made him look endearingly silly. “Is that uncle Benjamin?” she asked warily. “No, I believe that would be the housekeeper, Mr Digweed.” “Well if he’s the housekeeper I see why it’s in this state.” “Maria, don’t be rude,” Rosie reprimanded her again. Before Maria could argue her case, from the back seat came a loud, insufferable meow. Maria quickly turned around and reached for the crate. “Oh Zachariah!” she called, “I’m sorry, kitty, you’ll be out soon, I promise.” Rosie gently smiled at the girl next to her. “I’m sure Zachariah will like it here more than he did in London.”

Zachariah, as Maria liked to say, was fluffy. Rosie would describe him as chubby and George Merryweather didn’t mention him by any other name than the Fat Cat. In short, Zachariah was a big tomcat with a bit too little to do and a bit too much to eat. 

“He’ll be the only one,” muttered Maria. The supposed Mr Digweed meanwhile walked over to them and knocked on Rosie’s window. “Are you Ms Lapinfort?” his voice was muffled by the glass. Rosie rolled down her window. “Yes, I am. Mr Digweed I suppose? We spoke on the phone.” The man said yes and they shook hands. Up close he was nicer than standing in the door and older too - he reminded Maria of some fairytale magical grandpa, which didn’t help his image in her eyes at all. He was probably sentimental about the royal family, owned a chunky woollen sweater with the British flag and listened solely to the Beatles because they were the last “real” music. “And that must be Miss Maria!” he said excitedly, “nice to see you again, Miss.” He was short on the introduction. Maria greeted him quietly and then let him speak to Rosie while she awkwardly nodded.

The first thing Maria did when they got through the whole “do you need help unpacking?” “Oh yes if you’d be so kind,” small talk, was open Zachariah’s carrier. The cat jumped down, stretched his paws and purred as Maria scratched him between his ears. He then began to trot over the yard as if it already belonged to him. As far as both him and Maria were aware, it did. The small bird Maria saw before following the chicken flew above his head, chirped and Maria didn’t understand. That calmed her down some. Zachariah watched the small bird, then turned away and ignored him. Just moments later, out of the door flew a big black ball of fur. It huffed and barked. Zachariah, for the first time ever in his life, sprinted away in fear and up Maria’s leg into her arms. She turned away from the lion sitting at her feet. Zachariah hissed. Maria screamed. The monster barked.

“Wrolf!” Came an admonishing shout from the inside. Out ran a tall, tan blonde whose hair must’ve been recently struck by a tornado. Her face was bright, young, decidedly friendly and held just a bit of mischief in the corners of the woman’s mouth. “He won’t hurt you! He’s just excited!” She called to them as she ran to the giant thing that seemed desperate to eat a Zachariah sized snack. “Hi, Maria, nice to meet you,” the woman pulled away the probable dog by its collar and with the same amount of effort she put out a hand. Maria shook it, trying to shield Zachariah from Wolf with her body all the while. “I’m Loveday, I’m your aunt.” Maria stared at her for a second. Then her mouth, without consulting the brain, blurted out: “I have an aunt?” Loveday grinned. “You do.” The man who suddenly appeared on the stairs to the house definitely looked like her father’s brother. He had less wrinkles, but his eyes were the same dark grey full of seriousness and even the way he nodded to Maria as an acknowledgment was the same. His dark hair had no silver in it yet, though the curls were the same. He snapped twice. Wrolf ran to him and sat down by his feet, tongue out, tail wagging. “Hello, Maria, welcome to Moonacre.”

_-_

The manor was in a better state inside than outside. Despite its vast hallways, it was warm. Maria stared at the pink geraniums glowing on every free windowsill, nook and cranny. Benjamin obviously noticed her staring around. “Those are Loveday’s,” he clipped. “How many are there?” Maria couldn’t stop herself from asking. Benjamin flashed her a small smile. Somehow the corners of his mouth felt weighed down. “Ninety-nine.” Maria stopped at one. She carefully inspected it. It had seventeen blooms, but she could already see an eighteenth one ready to blossom. Benjamin stood a few steps ahead of her. “I’m sure you can admire Loveday’s flowers just as well after you see your room.” Maria didn’t like his tone - all cold and firm, like marble. “Right.” He opened and closed his mouth. “We tried our best to modify it to your standards. Well, Loveday did. I trust her taste fully but-“ he stopped to consider his next words, “it’s no London.” It certainly isn’t , thought Maria, but didn’t say anything. “Do you like reading?” She silently nodded. Benjamin seemed to have expected her to say something. For a long second he worked through that situation. “Good. Good, the shelves in your room are very well stocked. Made sure of that myself.” Maria massaged her left hand. “Thank you, uncle.” “Hm,” he cleared his throat, “unfortunately, there’s no internet.” “I noticed.” “Yes, well… we have a landline and there are a few places with signal but it’s not… the coverage isn’t ideal.” What else was to be expected of this end of the world where just behind the vast garden lay a dark forest like a bad omen? Benjamin tried to conjure up something insightful, but instead said: “I hope you don’t mind.” Maria felt her right eye almost twitch. She instead smiled but it was an unhappy grimace. “I’m sure I’ll find the right places to hear from my friends.” Benjamin nodded. He gestured vaguely to the hall behind him. “Your room,” he reminded mostly himself. Maria followed him in perfect silence.

They walked up and up and up and when it seemed not possible there could still be more stairs, they walked up. Maria might’ve been exaggerating, but her legs ached after they finally ascended to an empty hall. Aside from some windows, dust and paintings covered in white cloth to be protected against said dust, there was an ornamented door. Elaborate metal spirals swirled on it in mesmerising patterns. The door was certainly child-sized, which Maria certainly was not anymore. Well by the law she was, but she was mature. The fact she barely had to bend to go through it was insulting and Maria was determined to ignore it. “I’ll call you down for dinner. Loveday will bring you some snacks but if you need anything-“ “Thank you, uncle,” Maria cut him off and closed the door. With a tired sigh and closed eyes she slid down until she was sitting on the cold wooden tiles. She heard Benjamin start a sentence before huffing and walking off. This was going to be one long stay.

The room was, and Maria hated to admit it, very pretty. Back in London, her room was simple - neutral colours, some pink and blue accents. She covered her walls in her mother’s paintings and posters of old movies and had a corner dedicated to photos. Her mother’s and father’s wedding day, her last birthday before the unfortunate incident and first after. She also had some polaroids of the friends she made during the… the incident and a bunch of them of her Clarisse and Laura. Neither one of those two knew about the incident - Maria made sure of that.

This room was different in every way, but equally as nice. Unlike the rest of the house, there were no paintings and surprisingly enough no geraniums. The walls were covered in recently restored murals depicting a forest with a myriad of animals. Maria followed the eyes of a fox up to a tree where some black bird was sitting. In a bush she found a cute rabbit and in the sky was some grey marbled bird of prey. She examined the fireplace. It too was ornamented like the door, but also had beautiful white horses on it. The ceiling was painted like a night sky, but somehow there was still enough light in the room. She fell on the gigantic bed. There was a painted bird motif on the head of it, Maria really couldn’t give a damn what kind of bird it was. Except the fact it was the same one as the one sitting on her window, chirping away. Maria rolled her eyes and turned away. She was used to cars and honking, but these incessant trills were eating away at her nerves.

She stayed motionless until a loud meow and a softer knock roused her up. The bird was long gone. “Enter!” she called. Loveday did so, smiling all the way. Zachariah slipped between her legs and jumped on Maria’s lap. Loveday put a plate of various pastries on the small table next to the fireplace. She watched Zachariah nuzzle into Maria’s hand. “He likes you a lot,” she noted. Maria curtly nodded.  “I’m good with animals.” “Really?” “Yeah,” Maria chuckled as Zachariah got up on his hind legs and put his front paws on her left shoulder, “it’s like I can really get what they’re saying.” She froze for a second. “I mean it’s not like I can actually understand them, right? That would be crazy.” Loveday shrugged. “I wouldn’t say that. I know that some of the horse breeders really talk to their horses.” She lightly caressed the fireplace ornaments. “And besides, in Moonacre nothing is impossible.” Zachariah settled on the blanket behind Maria. “Are you allergic to anything?” she asked suddenly, “I know we asked, but sometimes people forget and…” “I’m not,” Maria shook her head. Loveday smiled. “And do you mind flowers? Ben forbid me from putting any geraniums into your room, but I think they would fit this room perfectly, don’t you?” Maria shrugged. Loveday’s attempts at getting into her good graces were more than obvious, but she found she actually didn’t mind it. Despite being very talkative, she didn’t seem overbearing. More so awkward. When had last been Loveday in proper contact with a teenage girl? Let alone one she was to basically become the parent of? Loveday pointed to the writing table with many drawers, which sat under the window. It was made from very dark wood, first of its kind in this house as far as Maria was aware. “You’ll find all your school things in there. We bought you some pens and notebooks as well as the schoolbooks.” “Oh,” Maria said but felt it was very anticlimactic, “thank you, but you didn’t need to.” The woman just waved it off. “We wanted to give you a good welcome since… well you know.” Maria noncommittally hummed. Loveday pursed her lips. “I’m sure you must be tired. We’ll go over the details during dinner, hm?” She left before Maria was able to respond.

It took her a few more minutes before she got up to actually look at the- at her school stuff. Starting with the uniform. It was neatly folded on her desk, a sad blue and grey thing. It looked just about Maria’s size, Rosie must’ve sent over the measurements so that everything would be ready. There was a light blue sweater, a grey blazer, a white shirt and a pair of black pants. Next to it, to Maria’s surprise, a black skort with white socks. It didn’t hold a candle to her previous one (which had a beautiful wine coloured blazer and a black and white tartan skirt. The socks were also black with a red band at the top. Maria wistfully recalled putting it into her drawer to be hopefully pulled out sometime in the future. Instead this. Her complexion was going to be washed out - gods, she’ll look like a corpse!) She sighed and instead began sorting through the table itself. All drawers but the top one were full of notebooks with animal and flower motifs. Maria was quite sure the “we” Loveday said meant “I.” The first drawer was locked. The last drawer was probably just for her own use, as the notebooks there had no accompanying text books. These too had various patterns on them. Polka dots, checkers and stripes… very fun. Maria tiredly walked over to one of her boxes and pulled out one of the sleek faux-leather bound notebooks she accumulated over the years. There simply was no better feeling than writing in what could pass as a diary of some lady. She opened it and started sketching various items in her room. This lady was stuck in a boarding school and desperately writing her parents letters about how she wanted to go back home.

_-_

The universe had it out for Maria. As if things couldn’t get any worse, apparently the Merryweathers owned a car but only for “emergencies”. And Maria getting to school was no emergency. Afterall, it was half an hour on foot, all downhill, Maria could definitely do that daily. Or, Benjamin suggested, you could go on horseback. Maria had never ever ridden a horse before, but just imagining the long haul up the hill of the manor made her legs ache and so here she was, the first day of school, early September, in the stables. She had a backpack since her handbag was too small and inconvenient for travel. Loveday had two bags on the horse. “I just have a few check-ups in the town. Mrs. Aldering brought in a new cat, and the Greenworths’ canaries are apparently sick with something.” Loveday was the first vet who ever rode to her patients on horseback. The woman looked out. The sky was perfectly clear and sunny, except for one lone bird circling above the manor. She grimaced before getting into the saddle. “Ready?” Maria, who was not ready, but definitely didn’t want another impromptu horse-riding lesson after the last one, nodded.

The thing about her horse Periwinkle was that the mare probably wouldn’t startle even if someone threw an aggravated goose at her. The horse was beautiful, white and dappled with grey, but had she been more apathetic, she would have fallen asleep walking. The perfect horse for Maria, really. She saw how Loveday had to manage her much livelier mare Waterlily. While Loveday was able to force Waterlily into not eating any edible plant in sight, Maria was struggling to stay seated. And she knew Periwinkle noticed. Whenever Maria began slipping, the mare slowed down, gave her a moment to settle and then continued with the steady speed of a snail.

“Periwinkle likes you,” noted Loveday. To her dismay, Maria had to agree. “She’s very gentle,” she admitted. Loveday grinned. “Periwinkle?” she laughed, “she can be one devil of a horse I tell you! When me and-“ she suddenly cut herself off, cleared her throat and shook her head, “she’s very adaptive to the rider.” She looked Maria over and their eyes met. Loveday smiled, but just like uncle Benjamin, the corners of her mouth were turned down. “Relax, Maria, you have to be in rhythm with the horse.” Easy to say, but what did it mean? Maria tried copying Loveday. The veterinarian nodded. “That’s better, but don’t be a rag doll. Any wilder horse would throw you off. Remember yesterday.” Also easy in words but difficult in practice. However, Maria wasn’t one to give up so easily.

What did she do yesterday? She kept her arms firm but her hips free. She sort of rolled with the horse… “Wonderful!” exclaimed Loveday, “you’re a natural.” “I told you I’m good with animals.” Loveday shrugged, “that doesn’t always translate into practice.”

Maria looked up, the bird she saw when they were in the stables was still circling them. Like the… she struggled to remember, the… the bald one. Wide wings, scavenged carcasses… oh screw that, it was ominous. All around them small songbirds chirped - none of them looked like the one Maria saw on her window. “I bet London doesn’t have nature like this.” Maria smiled and shook her head, “no, but we have pigeons.” “The Fird-Laviers have pigeons.” “Aw shucks,” giggled Maria, “bested once again.” “Speaking of Fird-Laviers,” began Loveday, “Thomas Fird-Lavier will be your homeroom teacher. If you have any issues with the curriculum, just ask him.” Then she thought it over, “not like you have that many choices anyway.” “What do you mean by that?” “Oh!” Loveday pet Waterlily’s crest, “our high school is very small. Some lessons the students take all together so you have about seven teachers to ask.” Maria gave her a wary look. Loveday shook her head. “I got into Cambridge, top of my class. Last year one student got into Harvard on merits. It’s a good school. Just not a London one.” That calmed Maria down a bit. She could deal with small. Hopefully.

Loveday leaned over and clasped her shoulder affirmatively. “You’ll be fine, Maria.” “I’m not nervous,” she argued. Loveday raised an eyebrow. “Of course not,” she nodded, “I’m just saying that you will be fine.” “ Hm,” hummed Maria. But you are nervous, muttered Periwinkle. “I’m fine,” grumbled Maria angrily. “Did you say something, Maria?” The girl shook her head, looked around and then flashed Loveday a smile. “Oh, nothing I was-“ she gave Periwinkle a confused stare, but the horse was quiet and most definitely horse-like, “-just thinking out loud.” “Alright.” But her stare still felt much too pointed for Maria’s liking.

_-_

While Periwinkle was used to just waiting around and no one in Silverydew dared steal a horse, let alone a horse that belonged to the Merryweathers, Loveday took the mare with her. She and Maria were to ride back together anyway. Maria didn’t mind. There was something slightly surreal about getting off a horse to go to something so common as high school. Was this why people rode motorcycles to school? She thought they were just flexing, but there was thrill  to arriving in a special manner-

“Hey princess!” a shout interrupted her train of thought. She looked away from the aged school building to a trio of boys smoking by the gate. They looked like the exact type of person to take a motorcycle to school. Not that Maria suspected there were many in Silverydew - that’s most likely why they settled on the cigarettes instead. They had to compensate a lot for the uniforms, but did manage to look cool and aloof just a tiny bit. One of them, a sharp-faced and fox-resembling ash blond waved at her. He put out his cigarette and with a trick shot threw it into a trash can. He poked the side of one of his friends - a taller brunet boy who was lanky and strangely contorting himself to look smaller. “Told you she’d listen.” The brunet glared at him. Third, shorter than the second, but taller than the first, all muscle and overall a hulky presence between the two of them, dryly chuckled. He fixed a few loose maroon strands of hair. “Anyone would listen if you shouted loud enough.” “You’re Maria Merryweather, right?” asked the second, ignoring the first with perfected mastery. Maria pursed her lips and slowly nodded. The boy put out his right hand. “I’m Henry Fird-Lavier, I’ll be your gui-“ “The love of your life!” interrupted him the fox guy. Maria raised an eyebrow. “My guy?” Henry stomped on his friend’s foot. “Shut the fuck up, Richard,” he hissed, “your guide,” he corrected Maria quickly, “designated by my father.” He rolled his eyes in annoyance. Maria smirked. “Thanks, but I don’t need help.” She vaguely waved to where Loveday rode off to. “Loveday and Benjamin already explained to me how it works here.” Henry raised an eyebrow. “And you don't have any questions?” She shrugged and rolled her eyes. “Do I have to have any?” “Aren’t you from London, princess?” interrupted the first - Richard. Maria stayed quiet, but apparently Richard didn’t need any actual answer. “We’re different here in the country.” You don’t say. “I noticed,” she muttered under her breath. Richard scoffed. “Well aren’t you a-“ The third dug his heel into Richard’s foot. “-a pleasure!” Richard choked out. “Do you have anything to say to me or are you just a coward?” Richard gritted his teeth. “Ignore him,” thundered the last boy, “Richard’s an idiot.” He cleared his throat and politely put out his right hand. “I’m David. Nice to meet you, Maria.” They shook hands in a small moment of civility. Maria attempted a smile, but it came out strained. “You were forced to move, right?” he continued. “Yeah.” He scrunched up his nose, “that stinks.” Then he leaned closer to her. “There’s some signal in the common room,” he whispered, “Henry can take you there.” She raised her eyes to him. David nodded encouragingly. She turned to Henry with a timid smile. “Alright, how about we strike a deal? You take me to the common room and finish your task as my guide and I won’t bother you any further.” Richard threw his hand over Henry’s shoulders. “That’s one hell of a deal, Henry, if I were you, I’d take it.” Henry considered it a moment longer. He threw a suspicious look to David. “Sure…” A small bird flew over them. The same Maria saw on her window. It chirped. Henry took a deep breath and threw off Richard’s hand. Maria noticed that the three were wearing matching bracelets with small reddish feathers on it. “Let’s go.”

The moment Henry returned, Richard blew up on David. “Why were you so nice to her?” he demanded, “she’s a prissy bitch!” David shook his head and lit another cigarette. “You wouldn’t get it.” “Then how about you explain? I’m not going to stand for her-“ “She was perfectly fine in the clubroom,” Henry gently interjected. David scoffed. “Of course she was. Does neither of you realise that she’s here without family or friends?” David shook his head in disbelief. “She has her uncle, not to mention Loveday!” argued Richard still as fiery as before. “Sure, an estranged uncle and an aunt she’d met for the first time like a week ago. What a support system,” David snarked. “Well I-“ Richard stuttered, “she’s still a bitch.” Henry jabbed him in the shoulder. “Then don’t be a dog.” “I’m not-” “She might be our chance.” Heavy silence settled over them. Richard deflated like a balloon on a cactus. “Are you serious?” He looked at the sky above them. Nothing but a nice blue. “I wouldn’t joke about this,” hissed David. The small bird, as if in protest, chirped above them.

_-_

Apparently, Laura had another boyfriend and Clarisse already sent Maria a care package. She refused to tell Maria what was in it, but if there was one thing Clarisse could be relied upon, it was good gifts. Laura said she tried to get involved, which Clarisse denied and then they settled on Laura admitting that she just drew on the box. With permanent markers, in case the rain got it on the way. ‘And any and every packing paper inside,’ added Clarisse grudgingly, though Maria was sure she was grinning when she wrote it. They checked the address with Maria once again and she confirmed that yes, Moonacre Manor was a real place. ‘Girl, sending actual mail is torture. How did people do it in the past?’ complained Laura, who did all the bureaucracy to balance out Clarisse’s work. ‘They had people for it,’ answered Maria. ‘Since you live in a manor, do you have staff?’ Maria said one, the housekeeper Mr Digweed. Clarisse then asked if it was really just one and not even the chef.

So true. Maria didn’t see the kitchen and she knew for a fact Loveday didn’t cook the lunches. And as far as she was aware, Benjamin stayed cooped up in his study and dealt with business. It was vague and Maria wasn’t very interested in it. Something to do with the town, most likely. What would it cost her to investigate just a little bit? Nothing. Zachariah investigated a lot. Or so said the increasing amount of half-eaten mice carcasses he brought to her door. Benjamin showed her most of the house. But she didn’t see a sunroom. And she knew for a fact houses like this always had sunrooms. Another thing nagged at her brain. Periwinkle. From what she could see, the mare was a perfectly normal horse. Though her experience with horses wasn’t great by any stretch of the word, she knew for a fact perfectly normal horses didn’t speak. Maybe… maybe it was just some other noise that Maria misheard. A bird overhead. Or a huff. Or maybe Loveday did say something and Maria just didn’t focus enough. Her hands were full of learning how to ride a horse, after all. Or, and this thought made a shiver run up her spine, the incident was back. She shuddered. Clarisse and Laura wrote another few messages mostly wishing her luck on her first day and praying that the care package would arrive intact. Maria barely paid it half her mind. Gods, what if this really was the great return. She didn’t want to go through it all again.

“Hey, princess, phone time’s over. We’re starting in five minutes.” Henry barged in. Maria checked the time. Five ’til nine. “Oh!” she exclaimed and shot him an apologetic smile, “sorry, I was…” her voice trailed off as she looked out the window. “Woah,” she breathed out, “that’s a big bird.” Henry turned around like it was a speed competition. The raptor on the window sill was grey, striped and had blood red eyes. It screeched and flew off. “That was a-“ But Maria didn’t particularly care. She checked the time again. “We have two minutes, Henry.” He took a quick look at his watch. “Shit,” he mumbled. He quickly grabbed Maria’s hand and began dragging her off into their classroom.

They could already see the door (labelled simply “3”), when someone called out to them. “Henry?” They both froze mid-step and turned around, probably looking like a pair of rabbits facing a hungry fox. Said fox was short, stout, dark haired and dark eyed with red cheeks, a kind smile and hands with long fingers fit for a musician. “Hey dad,” said Henry awkwardly, “we were just getting into class-“ “Aren’t you a bit late?” Maria watched the father-son duo. Henry pursed his lips. He knew not to argue - it was three minutes past nine. “Couldn’t you let it slide just once, dad?” Mr. Fird-Lavier shook his head. “Not if you were off with this young lady - are you Maria Merryweather, my dear? - philandering about-” “No, sir,” interrupted Maria, her throat was dry, “I just- uh. I am and I was texting my friends. It’s my fault I should’ve checked the time. Had Henry not come for me, I’d have been late.” Mr. Fird-Lavier visibly cooled off. “Oh, I can forgo that. At least Henry isn’t running around forests all the time anymore,” he glared at Henry, “and sorry, Henry, I was just-“ Henry waved it off, “it’s nothing, dad. I know why you’re worried.” Then he whispered to Maria: “but philandering with girls is Richard’s specialty.” Maria turned to him, a surprised “him?” clear on her face. Henry shrugged to say he wasn’t sure how either. “Are you happy here so far, Miss Merryweather?” The startled look of a cat on the wrong side of the fence from the dog was back. “Uh- I-” “Aren’t we late, dad?” Henry saved her. Mr Fird-Lavier cleared his throat. “Right, students, in you go or I’ll have to write you up.”

There were around forty or so students in the classroom. Sitting at the desks, standing by the windows, chattering about. Back in the corner by the window was a small couch. It wasn’t fully occupied, there was room for two more people, three if they squished David and Richard a bit. Henry dragged Maria there. Richard made a long face but let them sit down. “Prissy,” he hissed. “Get over it,” whispered Maria. Richard opened his mouth to object. David once again strategically (read: painfully) moved his foot on Richard’s. “Didn’t you say you’d leave us alone?” “Not like I had a choice,” she muttered. Henry snickered. “Yeah, sorry about that.” “You four!” called out Mr Fird-Lavier, “anything to share with the rest of us?”

All their heads whipped forwards. Everyone’s eyes were turned to them with undeniable sparks of mirth. “Well sir,” started Richard and stopped immediately. All wit dissipated - not that there was much to dissipate in the first place. “We were just, erm,” continued David who also came out empty handed. “Commenting on the seating arrangement,” added Henry, not a lot more confident in his words but enough to not make a fool out of himself. “How so?” asked Mr. Fird-Lavier. Maria smiled innocently. “Richard was complaining about the lack of pillows, sir. I said that we should get some more so that everyone sitting on the ground could have a proper place and wouldn’t have to resort to… couch theft.” Mr Fird-Lavier approvingly nodded. “That’s a good idea,” he said to the entire class, “can someone tell me how many pillows are in the literature class?” A short but muscled girl with mousy brown hair raised her hand. “Thirteen, sir.” Mr Fird-Lavier looked into his papers. “Oh well we shouldn’t change that. Hm…” he moved some documents around aimlessly before continuing, “I’ll talk to school leadership about it.” And the introductory lesson commenced.

Why shouldn’t thirteen be changed? Such an odd number both figuratively and literally. Maria pulled out a small red faux-leather bound notebook and began making notes. After all, this wasn’t London and Loveday and Benjamin hadn’t attended high school in some ten years at least.

_-_

Sun hung just about at high noon when Maria walked out of the school building to meet with Loveday. She got on Periwinkle with some strain - though outside it must’ve looked almost effortless, she was out of breath when she sat up straight. “You’re getting better,” smiled Loveday as they rode back into the manor. She looked over at the girl. “Did you get to talk with your friends?” “Yeah, apparently they’re sending me a care package.” “That’s very nice,” nodded the vet, “I hope they’re sending it in a waterproof box.” “What? Why?” Maria questioned. Loveday shrugged. “There will be a lot of rain next week.” “How do you know that?” “The geraniums speak better than any radio station.” Oh right, Maria remembered, people are stuck in the previous century here. “So you predict the future from plants?” Loveday threw her a surprised look. “Exactly! Herbs work the best, but I prefer geraniums. In fact, they told me you’ll bring a cat.” Maria furrowed her eyebrows, but quickly composed her face into a tight smile. “That’s nice,” she mumbled. The forest around them was quiet, but seeing Maria’s experience with nature, she couldn’t tell whether it was normal or some strange anomaly. Apparently, Moonacre was full of those. “Why do all the geraniums have seventeen blooms?” Loveday's face was overtaken by surprise before an amused smile settled on her lips. “You checked?” Maria nodded. Loveday grinned at that. She fixed something on her bag. “They’re mine, they listen to my heart.” Cryptic. How lovely. “How was the first day?” Maria deeply sighed, but mustered up a polite smile nonetheless. “I’m sure it will get better.”

Robin bit her tongue and schooled her features. No, she could not afford the growing ire of her father if she were to remain heir. She took in a calming breath before responding, “The pearls were not on the Merryweather nor in his room. Servants were crawling about the place, packing things away. Alerting them did nothing more than rush our exit. We were set to leave either way.” 

The Coeur De Noir leaned back and studied his daughter. It was a cold look, one that once sent chills down her spine, but she had grown accustomed to it. She wondered if he would have looked at her any different if she had been born a man. 

“You’re dismissed,” her father said. “There are some matters I need to discuss with Dulac.” 

Robin took a step, about to say one last thing, but then she clenched her fist and shook her head as she turned back and left his study, slamming the doors behind her.

“Did you tell him?” Richard asked, rushing to her side. 

“No.” 

“Why not?” asked David, joining at the other side. 

“I don’t need to add to my growing list of disappointments should I fail again.”

“You can’t think like that,” Henry admonished from behind. Robin had to suppress an eye roll as he continued, “You’re already setting–” 

“—How far are they?” she interrupted. 

Henry sighed before responding, “They’ll be at the gates within the hour.” 

“Then let’s not waste any more time.”

The gang quickly traversed the forest they knew so well, providing Robin a bit of respite from the worrying looks of her mates. She knew they were only looking after her, but at times like these, those looks did nothing more than make her feel more different than she already did.

More isolated than she already was.

Female births were already so far and few in between the De Noir family that she couldn’t help but stick out like a sore thumb, especially after her sister left. 

But that thought only darkened her mood. Despite their thirteen-year age difference, she and Loveday were once as thick as thieves–that is until five years ago when Loveday betrayed them by falling in love with a Merryweather. Loveday had worked so hard–sacrificed so much just to prove to their father that a woman could lead the clan, only to toss it all away for a man. And a Merryweather at that.

“They’re coming!” David broke her thoughts. 

“As we planned,” Robin commanded. “Henry, you’re with me. The rest of you hide amongst the trees until we’ve overpowered them.” 

As the carriage came to a stop, Robin stealthily led the way to their enemies. She motioned for Henry, then gave the signal. Together, they each took a side and the ambush began. 

Robin ripped open the carriage door, coming face to face with wide light-brown eyes and reddish-tinged hair. Freckles delicately painted his face and lips were parted in an affronted expression. His face contorted, ready to let out a call for help, but Robin never gave him the chance. She lunged for the young man, and yanked him out of the carriage with all of her force.

She suppressed her groan as his weight drove her into the ground and sent them rolling against the gravel. She clasped her trembling hand over his mouth, muffling his protests. She steadied her nerves as she hooked her legs around his waist and an arm around his neck while her other hand scoured his neck and pockets for pearls, but they were empty. 

Then the Merryweather ripped his face free of her grip with a triumphant yell, only to cut it short as his teeth clamped down on her hand. 

Robin screamed as the Merryweather tossed her over his shoulder. She heaved a breath, feeling all the air leave her body upon impact, but she forced herself onto her feet and whipped out her dagger. 

Robin studied the Merryweather who was groaning as he shakily stood up. A sleeve of his coat had ripped apart, pulling his tunic to the side and unveiling a broad shoulder with nicks and scrapes. She averted her eyes from the tear down his front that revealed a firm abdomen cut down the middle with a faint line of curly red hair. The dirt that now darkened his beige-colored clothes did nothing to hide his elegance. To smother the fact that he was taller than her, and showed the signs of someone who still had more to grow. 

Even his manner of dusting himself off appeared graceful.

Then he finally took a good look at her. Whatever shock he could have felt at her appearance was quickly replaced by a displeased disposition. 

“You’re rather small for a Highwayman,” he said disdainfully, ignoring the shrieking lady struggling against Henry’s grapple. The coachman was still busy with the gate’s lock. Completely unaware of this debacle.

“Reckon that's not important now, is it?” Robin snarled. “Give me the pearls.”

“What pearls?”

“The pearls! The Moon Princess’ pearls!” 

“We don't have any pearls!” 

“Well then, guess I’ll have to see for myself,” She said as dashed forwards, her dagger leading the way, only to be stopped short by the barrel of a gun. 

“Well go on then,” The Merryweather gestured with a smirk. 

“He has a gun!” Robin shouted to Henry. Then she glared at the redhead, “This won't be the last time you see me.” Seething with humiliation, Robin sheathed her dagger and ran back into the forest with Henry at her heels. She was determined to overpower him.

Moonace week 2024 themes!

1-isolation

2-angels/devils

3-gothic

4-flowers

5-communicate

6-pursuit

7-loyalty

And there is an optional theme of The Tortured Poets Department themes!

1-so long, London

2-who’s afraid of little old me?

3-tortured poets department

4-the black dog

5-the prophecy

6-robin