Chapter Text
By Friday afternoon, Auradon Prep had become almost completely unbearable.
Parents’ Week had officially begun at noon, which meant the school grounds were now crowded with royal carriages, polished motorcars, enchanted luggage, nervous first-years and enough visiting monarchs to start three diplomatic incidents before dinner.
Every hedge had been trimmed into submission. Every gold railing had been polished until it reflected sunlight directly into the eyes. White banners streamed from the towers, embroidered with Auradon’s crest in shimmering blue and gold thread, and the gardens had been transformed into a battlefield of lace tablecloths, porcelain cups and aggressively cheerful flower arrangements.
Chloe Charming had been disarmed at the garden gate.
Fairy Godmother had confiscated her sword. The headmistress had been waiting at the entrance to the garden as if she had known Chloe would arrive armed.
“Princess Chloe,” she had said.
“Headmistress.” Chloe had greeted her with a small bow, pretending not to notice the critical gaze on the sword strapped to her side. She simply tried to walk past the headmistress with an innocent expression. Unsuccessfully…
“The sword, please.” Fairy Godmother had stopped her politely.
“Uhm… But I need it, because… Because it completes my outfit?”
“The sword, please,” Fairy Godmother repeated herself, her voice slowly growing less patient.
“It isn’t bothering anyone.”
“It is a weapon.”
“It’s sheathed.”
“It remains a weapon when sheathed.” Fairy Godmother’s expression did not change. She had merely extended her hand.
Her parents had been watching. Behind Chloe, King Charming coughed into his fist, wearing a small amused smile. Cinderella did not bother hiding her impatience. “Chloe,” she said sternly.
Chloe’s grip on the sword tightened. She had carried the sword nearly every day since she and Red returned from the past.
It hung beside her bed while she slept. It rested against the bathroom wall while she showered. She brought it to lessons that had nothing to do with combat and wore it beneath formal coats when she believed she could get away with it.
People expected eccentricity from princesses. They called it tradition when a prince carried a ceremonial blade and concerning behavior when Chloe did the same.
But Chloe remembered a throne room stained red in another time. She remembered her mother on her knees. She remembered the flash of an axe. She remembered being helpless.
The time had changed. The Queen of Hearts had changed. Cinderella stood behind Chloe now, alive and painfully impatient with her daughter and dressed in pale blue silk.
Chloe had already spent most of the morning arguing with her mother about clothes, because her mother had arrived at Auradon Prep with a garment bag containing a dress designed specifically for the opening garden reception. It had layers of pale blue chiffon, a jeweled belt and sleeves so delicate Chloe had been afraid to breathe near them. Chloe had refused to put it on.
The discussion that followed had been neither quiet nor dignified. Cinderella had argued that trousers were inappropriate for an official royal function. In the end Chloe won anyway.
A blue jacket was fitted neatly across her shoulders, worn over a crisp white shirt. The matching trousers disappeared into dark boots polished only enough to satisfy her father. Silver clips held back some of her curls, though several blue spirals had already escaped around her face.
Cinderella had changed.
Chloe had slowly but surely noticed that her mother was very different now. She was so different from the woman Chloe used to know in the old timeline, the woman she called her mother.
Chloe tried to get used to her new life, but the new version of her mother was extremely exhausting. With every day Chloe started to feel more and more like she was trapped in a golden cage. Her mother had never been obsessed with their royal status and the representation of their family before, but now she demanded from her daughter to represent the perfect princess all the time.
Cinderella told Chloe several times to stop playing the reckless knight in shining armor.
And now Fairy Godmother wanted her sword.
Cinderella released a strained breath, her voice sharpening. “Give the headmistress the sword, Chloe.”
Chloe reluctantly unbuckled the scabbard from her belt. The sudden absence of its familiar weight made her feel uneasy. She surrendered the sword with all the dignity of a knight being forced to hand over her last weapon before a public execution.
Fairy Godmother accepted it carefully. “I will return it when you leave.”
Chloe walked into the garden with her empty hand hovering near her hip, looking for her family’s table.
The school gardens had been transformed for Parents’ Week. White canopies stretched over tables covered in linen and polished silver. Rose vines curled around the marble columns. Enchanted banners drifted above the lawn, each displaying the crest of a visiting family.
Parents filled the garden in a glittering collection of crowns, gowns and formal uniforms. Their children sat beside them, trying to appear pleased about it.
At the center of the lawn stood the dessert buffet.
Chloe noticed it immediately, while sitting down. She had been placed between her parents, presumably to prevent escape.
Tiered silver trays were crowded with fruit tarts, iced buns, lemon squares, cream pastries and cakes decorated with spun sugar. Near the middle sat a chocolate cake layered with raspberry cream and dark curls of chocolate. Chloe’s attention fixed upon it.
“Sit properly,” Cinderella said.
Chloe straightened, while her father poured coffee into her cup. Chloe reached for the sugar.
“One spoon,” Cinderella said.
Chloe added two. Her mother watched her and Chloe added a third. Out of spite.
“Chloe, we need to talk. Your father and I made a decision.”
Chloe’s gaze started drifting to the dessert, while she stirred her coffee.
At the neighboring table, Red lowered her teacup to conceal a smile. She had been pretending to listen to listen to her little sister for several minutes.
Pink, who had started her first year at Auradon Prep only four days ago, was describing the dormitory curtains in extraordinary detail to their mother, the Queen of Hearts. “I don’t dislike them,” Pink explained. “I just think they’re too red. Red is your color. My side of the room should be pink.”
“You should alert the authorities,” Red said.
Pink frowned at her. “You’re not listening.”
“I heard curtains.”
“You’ve been watching Chloe.”
Red glanced toward the neighboring table. Chloe sat rigidly between Cinderella and King Charming, her gaze had not left the buffet. “She’s stalking a cake,” Red said.
Pink followed her line of sight. “She looks angry.”
“She’s been disarmed.”
“Oh.” Pink said it with the solemn understanding of someone discussing a bereavement.
Across from them, Bridget stirred cream and honey into her black tea. She wore a deep red gown with a high collar and heart-shaped pearls along the cuffs. In the sunlight, she looked warm and bright and nothing at all like the woman Red remembered.
Red still watched every movement of her mother’s hands. She subconsciously flinched when Bridget reached for the sugar beside her plate.
Her mother did not saw, instead Bridget smiled toward her old friend. “Ella,” she called. Cinderella looked over. “Your daughter hasn’t heard a word you’ve said since your started your first sentence.”
“I am aware...”
“I’m listening,” Chloe claimed.
“You are watching the cake,” Cinderella replied.
“I can do both.”
“What were we discussing?”
Chloe kept her gaze glued on the dessert. “The importance of family.”
King Charming looked mildly impressed.
Cinderella did not. “We were discussing Percival.”
“Who?”
Red choked on her tea. Pink patted her back. Bridget covered her mouth, though her shoulders moved with laughter.
Cinderella’s jaw tightened. “Percival Beaumont.”
Chloe gave her a blank look.
“The young man whose family approached us last month.”
“Oh.”
Chloe still did not look away from the cake. A prince with impossible fake blonde hair had noticed the final slice left. He had begun moving toward the buffet. She narrowed her eyes.
“The Beaumont family is highly respected,” Cinderella continued. “They have served as physicians to several royal houses.”
King Charming nodded. “A long dynasty of doctors.”
“That sounds extremely exhausting.”
“Percival graduates from Auradon Prep this year,” Cinderella said. “He has already been accepted into the Royal College of Medicine.”
“Good for him.”
“He is accomplished, polite and comes from an excellent family.”
“Wonderful.”
“He is only slightly older than you.”
Chloe tracked the perfect prince as he stopped to greet a visiting duke.
King Charming leaned closer. “He fences.”
That caught her attention. Chloe looked at him. “Competitively?”
“I believe he belongs to a recreational club.”
Her interest disappeared immediately. “Oh.”
Cinderella placed her cup carefully onto its saucer. “Would you please look at me while I am speaking to you?”
Chloe did. Her attention lasted for perhaps three seconds. Then her eyes drifted back toward the prince.
Cinderella followed her gaze and saw the cake. “Chloe.”
“I am listening.”
“No, you are not.”
“I heard the part about the doctor.”
“He is not a doctor yet.” Cinderella sighed. “The point is that his family believes the two of you would be well suited.”
The prince resumed his approach. Chloe shifted in her chair.
“Sit still,” Cinderella snapped.
“I am sitting.”
King Charming lifted one hand. “Perhaps we should remain focused on the conversation.”
“I am focused,” Chloe said.
“On cake,” Cinderella replied.
“That is still focus.”
Cinderella inhaled slowly through her nose. “I have arranged for you to meet Percival tomorrow at four o’clock.”
Chloe’s gaze snapped back to her mother. “Tomorrow at four?”
“Yes.”
“Do I need to fast?”
Silence fell over both tables. Red looked up. Cinderella blinked.
Chloe frowned thoughtfully, before starting to ramble. “Because if he wants to do bloodwork, I should probably stop eating tonight. Although I don’t think bloodwork is necessary. The bruising looks worse than it is.” She pushed back one sleeve and showed her parents the fading mark along her forearm. “One of nurses in the infirmary already checked it. Full movement, no fracture, no swelling. There was a little numbness at first, but that went away after an hour, I don’t think I need an appointment.”
Red pressed a fist to her mouth to smother her laugh.
Cinderella stared at her daughter. “Chloe,” her mother said.
“And I told them the shoulder was fine. It only clicked twice.”
“Chloe.”
“It always clicks after overhead blocks. That’s normal.”
“Chloe.”
She stopped.
Cinderella closed her eyes briefly. “Percival is not a doctor yet.”
“Oh.” Chloe looked relieved, then confused. “Then why am I seeing him?”
“Because you are going on a date.”
Chloe stared at her mother. “A what?”
“A date.”
“With Percival.”
“Yes.”
“No.”
“Yes.”
“His name is Percival.”
King Charming cleared his throat. “His friends call him Percy.”
“That is somehow worse.”
Red made a strangled sound into her teacup. Bridget disguised her laugh as a cough.
Cinderella shot both of them a look, while Pink looked between the tables with fascination. “This is not amusing.”
“It is a little amusing,” Bridget admitted.
“You are supposed to support me.”
“I do support you, Ella, but I also heard him say Percy.”
Cinderella’s expression tightened. “His name is hardly the point.”
Chloe folded her arms. “I’m not going.”
“You have not met him.”
“I don’t need to meet him.”
“You might like him.”
“I already dislike his name.”
King Charming set his cup down. “He is a suitable young man.”
“For what?” Neither of her parents answered, Chloe looked from one to the other. Something suspicious shifted beneath her ribs. Her mother’s expression was too composed and her father’s was too careful. This was not only about an afternoon with Percival and a date anymore.
Cinderella spoke first. “For a princess in your position, romantic relationships cannot be treated casually.”
Chloe made a face. “I am not in a romantic relationship.”
“That is precisely why we are discussing one. We are trying to introduce you to someone appropriate.”
“Appropriate according to whom?”
“Chloe,” King Charming warned.
She looked at her father.
Across the garden, the perfect prince reached the cake. His hand moved toward the cake server. Chloe saw it. She stood so quickly that her chair scraped across the paving stones.
Cinderella stared up at her. “We are in the middle of a conversation. Sit back down.”
“I can’t.”
“You absolutely can!” Her mothers eyes gleamed with fury.
Chloe glanced at the buffet. The blonde prince lifted the server. “It’s an emergency.”
“What emergency?”
“Chocolate cake...” She was already moving.
“Chloe Charming!” Cinderella barely restrained her anger.
Chloe did not run to the cake. She advanced with military urgency.
The prince had just lowered the final slice of chocolate-raspberry cake toward his plate when Chloe appeared beside him. He froze.
“Hello!” Chloe smiled sweetly. It was not her formal princess smile. That one was precise and polished, taught through years of portraits and diplomatic visits. This smile was crooked and entirely unfair. “Your Highness,” she said.
The prince looked at her. Then at the cake.
Chloe tilted her head and winked. He surrendered the plate without a fight. Her face lit up. “Thank you!”
“You’re welcome…,” he said slightly overwhelmed and suddenly empty handed, his face faintly flushing.
Chloe turned with her prize. And walked directly into Hazel Hook.
The plate tipped and Chloe made a sound of pure horror. Hazel reacted instantly. One arm caught Chloe around the waist. Her other hand caught the plate before the cake could slide onto the grass.
Chloe ended up bent backward over Hazel’s arm, one boot barely touching the ground.
The cake trembled, but the raspberry cream held.
Hazel looked down at her. “Careful, Charming,” she said. “Wouldn’t want you falling for me.”
Chloe beamed. “You are my savior!”
Before Hazel could straighten her properly, Chloe hooked a hand around the back of her neck and pressed an enthusiastic, very wet kiss to her cheek.
Hazel stopped breathing.
Chloe drew back thoughtfully, smacking her lips. “You taste like sea salt.”
Hazel stared at her.
Max Hatter stood beside them holding a teacup in both hands. His purple curls had fallen across one eye and his mouth was open. A silver spoon rested behind his ear.
“Well,” he said after a moment. “Good afternoon to you too, our knight.”
Chloe righted herself, still holding Hazel’s shoulder. She studied Hazel for another second. “And caramel too.”
Hazel carefully released her. The pink stain of Chloe’s kiss remained on her cheek, smudged through the dark lipstick Hazel had been wearing.
“Hello, Max!” Chloe softly smiled at him.
He swept into a small bow for her, careful not to spill his tea. “You escaped,” Max observed.
“I was never imprisoned.”
All three of them glanced toward Chloe’s family table. Cinderella was staring and King Charming was staring. Fairy Godmother had turned in her chair, but that was entirely Hazel‘s fault.
Chloe reconsidered. “I escaped.”
Hazel recovered enough to speak again. “You nearly sacrificed yourself for cake.”
“I knew you would catch me.”
That silenced Hazel again.
Max’s eyebrows rose. A thin ribbon of pastel pink steam suddenly escaped from his cup. He looked down into his tea. His face changed from surprise to horror, before he manage to slap one hand over the top.
Chloe did not notice. She was inspecting the cake for damage. “Perfect,” she said with relief.
“You escaped for cake?” Max asked, his voice unusually high. He cleared his throat and peered at the slice. “A noble cause.”
“My parents chose a husband for me.”
Hazel’s head turned sharply. Hazel’s grip tightened around the cake plate.
Max’s smile did not disappear, but something behind it faltered. “A husband?” he repeated.
“A date,” Chloe corrected. “Possibly a husband, I suspect. They were being very suspicious about him.”
Hazel looked past her toward Cinderella and King Charming. “Who?,” she asked sharply and the interrogation began. “What’s his name?”
“Percival. His friends call him Percy.” Chloe grimaced. “What a stupid name.”
Max looked offended on Chloe’s behalf. “You cannot marry someone named Percival,” he declared. “You’d spend the rest of your life calling someone with the name of a nervous rabbit your husband.”
“Is he handsome?” Hazel asked.
Chloe shrugged. “I don’t know.”
“Is he rich?” Hazel asked again.
Chloe shrugged again. “He fences,” she said.
Hazel folded her arms, her attention caught. “How well?”
“Recreationally.”
Hazel scoffed, while Max relaxed slightly. “Then he is no threat.”
Max’s cup suddenly released another curl of pink steam. He glared down at it.
Chloe looked at the two of them.
Hazel wore a dark burgundy coat over black trousers, the cuffs embroidered with tiny silver threat. Her brunette curls had been tied back with a faded scarf, though the wind had already pulled several free.
Max was dressed in layers of violet, green and midnight blue, with mismatched buttons and a narrow waistcoat, wearing a crooked hat.
Hazel and Max were alone. No parents. No table covered in porcelain and silver.
Chloe’s smile softened sadly. “The Captain couldn’t come?”
Hazel shrugged, too casually. “Busy.”
The word could have meant piracy, smuggling, sailing, stealing or hiding from authorities or simply refusing to step onto Auradon soil. With Captain Hook, it was difficult to know.
Chloe looked at Max. Max only shook his head.
The Mad Hatter could not come at all. He was banned, imprisoned somewhere in Wonderland. In this timeline, the Mad Hatter was a villain and Max had been raised as a villain kid.
Guilt suddenly settled heavily in Chloe’s stomach.
Chloe and Red had changed history to save their mothers, but they had changed everything around them too. The Queen of Hearts was good now, Cinderella conservative and controlling. Red had a little sister now.
They stole Max’s childhood from him. They switched his fate. Chloe could never explain to him that another version of his father existed in a different timeline and only in her memory now.
Max noticed her expression. “What is it?”
“Nothing,” she lied. Chloe glanced back toward her own table, where her parents sat in the shadows surrounded by servants and polished silver. Then she turned to Hazel and Max standing alone beside the dessert buffet. “Sit with me.”
Hazel arched an eyebrow. “Won’t your family object?”
“They object when I breathe too loudly.” Chloe reached for two clean plates. She selected a slice of salted caramel cake for Hazel and a piece of lemon sponge for Max.
Hazel noticed. “You remembered my favorite.”
“Of course I remembered.” Chloe balanced all three plates along one arm. Max reached to take his, but moved it out of reach. “I’ve got it.”
“Our knight,” he said, soft and delighted.
They had been calling her that for weeks. Chloe pretended it did not make something warm bloom beneath her ribs every time.
Chloe led them toward an empty table near the garden wall. She set down their plates, pulled Hazel’s chair out first and waited.
Hazel looked at the chair, then at Chloe. “Are you serious?”
“Sit.”
Hazel sat and Chloe pushed the chair in gently before doing the same for Max.
He placed one hand over his heart. “No one has ever treated me so delicately.”
One of his purple curls had fallen across his eyes again. Without thinking, Chloe brushed it back and her fingers lingered briefly at his temple. Max went very quiet.
“There,” she said. “Now you can see your cake.”
He smiled at her as though she had invented the sunlight.
His traitorous tea produced another stream of pink steam as well as a bunch of bubbles that turned into the unmistakable shapes of hearts.
Hazel saw it, her eyes widened in horror. She lunged across the table and slapped both hands over the cup. “Control it!”
“I am trying,” Max whispered. Another heart floated lazily between them.
Hazel crushed it with her palm.
“What are you doing?” Chloe looked confused between the two of them. Hazel’s expression was tense, while Max was clutching his cup like it contained something dangerous.
“Nothing,” Hazel and Max said together.
Chloe accepted this without question and picked up her fork. Beside her Hazel patted her pocket, then her coat and her boots, before she patted her pockets again. Then she finally produced a crushed pack of cigarettes out of her bra.
“The headmistress is watching you…” Chloe gestured into the direction of the Fairy Godmother.
Hazel glared toward the headmistress. “She has been following me around all week,” she muttered. “I can’t even stand near an open window without her appearing.” She took one cigarette out and placed it between her lips. “I got frisked at the gate like a criminal.”
“You are a criminal. You ripped the wings off of Tinkerbell,” Chloe reminded her.
“Careful, Charming… Truth be told, Tinkerbell can grow her wings back, okay?”
“She is under strict surveillance since she was caught smoking on the roof of the library last weekend,” Max said with faked pity.
Chloe reached inside her jacket, she drew a steel lighter engraved with tiny ships, Hazel’s gaze fixed on it. “I saw it in town,” Chloe said, she shrugged. “It reminded me of you and I bought it.”
The teacup squeaked in delight. Max tightened his grip around the porcelain, a warning.
Chloe flicked the lighter open. She leaned closer and cupped one hand around the flame, protecting it for Hazel.
Hazel watched her over the cigarette, Chloe’s face was too close. Deep brown eyes turned into an endless dark ocean, drowning all of Hazel’s thoughts. The flame caught.
For a second they stared, the light flickering. Then the lighter snapped shut.
“There,” Chloe whispered.
Hazel inhaled unsteadily, taking the first drag. “Thank you.”
Chloe cut into her cake, the chocolate gave way beneath her fork, revealing a layer of bright raspberry cream. She took a bite and closed her eyes.
Hazel tried not to stare too long at her mouth. Max was less successful.
“Worth abandoning the royal family?” he asked.
“You should judge that for yourself.” Chloe cut another bite of chocolate cake and offered him her fork.
“I could never deprive our knight of her hard-won treasure.” But he leaned forward and took the bite directly from her fork. He closed his eyes and said nothing. He savored the chocolate cake with ridiculous seriousness, the raspberry cream melting on his tongue, one hand still wrapped around the traitorous teacup.
Chloe watched him expectantly. “Well?”
Max opened his eyes, staring dreamily at their knight. “It is almost as sweet as you,” he sighed.
More and more pastel pink smoke suddenly began pouring out off Max’s tea cup.
Hazel choked on nothing. “No.”
Max quickly leaned over the tea and whispered something in a foreign language. The smoke divided into two spirals, forming a heart together.
Hazel’s eyes widened. “Max!”
“I see it!” His voice strained with sudden panic. The tea started to bubble. Small bubbles shaped like hearts started to form on the surface, the teacup overflowing. The hearts floated upward, bumping together and bursting into pink glitter flakes.
Chloe smiled. “That’s cute.”
“It is not,” Hazel and Max said together.
Hazel took another drag from the cigarette, still watching the cup as if the tea had personally betrayed her.
“Behave,” Max hissed. The tea answered him with a soft chime, a delighted tiny bell.
Hazel’s gaze snapped toward him. “What was that?”
“Porcelain settling...”
The cup chimed again.
Chloe looked delighted by the magic. “Did you enchant it?”
“Not intentionally.”
“You unintentionally enchant most things,” Hazel said through her teeth. “Fix it... Fast...”
“I can’t fix it while emotionally compromised.” Max clapped a hand over the top of the tea.
Chloe held out two fingers towards Hazel’s cigarette, wriggling them in front of her face. “Share?”
Hazel looked towards the table of Cinderella and King Charming. “Your parents are watching us and you are usually much more subtle.”
But Chloe only shrugged. “I’m usually at a party.”
Hazel looked down at the cigarette, the filter bore the dark imprint of her lipstick. Chloe kept her hand extended and Hazel passed it to her.
Chloe placed it directly between her lips without hesitation. She inhaled the burn of acrid smoke, it was not the first time Hazel shared with her. She exhaled, the smoke mixing with the pastel pink from the tea.
Chloe offered it back. Hazel’s lipstick stained Chloe’s mouth, a deep burgundy mark on her lower lip. Chloe made no attempt to wipe it away.
Max watched her lips like enchanted, his gaze glued. More and more hearts began to squeeze between his fingers.
“Max…,” Hazel warned, her voice rough.
The porcelain cup began playing the first notes of a wedding march. The bells bright and delighted.
Max went pale. “No, no, no…”
The music grew louder.
Chloe leaned toward the tea, fascinated. “It plays music too?”
“It’s malfunctioning,” Max claimed, his face flushing. He felt his heart fluttering in his throat. Max muttered three spells. The tea only added a harmony.
Hazel stared at him in horror. “Control it,” she snapped.
“I told you, I can’t!”
“Then stop feeling things.”
“I would if you stopped feeling them too.”
Chloe looked between them. “What are you talking about?”
“Tea,” Hazel and Max said at the same time. Hazel kicked Max beneath the table. He jerked and the cup produced a joyful chime, the music growing louder. The people in the garden started to turn towards them,
Chloe laughed. “I like it!”
Both of them stared at her. “The enchantment,” she explained. “It’s really cute.”
The teacup exploded into hearts. A tower of thick smoke rose over their table, thousands of hearts exploded into clouds of endless glitter. The wedding march rang clearly across the whole garden.
Hazel reacted before Max could say something. She seized the cup and threw it.
The teacup sailed through the air. It passed directly over Cinderella and King Charming’s heads. King Charming ducked. Cinderella did not, but her eyes followed the flying porcelain with terrifying precision.
The cup continued over the tables. The Queen of Hearts looked up just as it passed narrowly over her head. Pink squeaked and disappeared under the table.
Red, her coffee lifted to her lips, only rose an eyebrow. “Very subtle…”
The teacup struck the stone path behind Red. Instead of breaking into simple porcelain shards, it burst into a cloud of pink glitter. The wedding march ended with one final triumphant chord.
The entire garden fell silent.
Hazel slowly lowered her throwing arm. “I’m sorry. I’ll buy you new one,” she said. Her voice was very calm.
Max stared at the glitter on the stones, it looked like a crime scene. He turned to her. “Don’t apologize. You did what was necessary.”
Chloe looked from the glittering crime scene to Hazel. Then to Max. Then back to the glitter. “That was impressive.”
Across the garden, Cinderella turned slowly toward her husband. King Charming brushed pink glitter from his shoulder.
The Queen of Hearts looked at Red. Red pressed both hands over her mouth, smothering a smile. Pink was still hiding under the table.
Fairy Godmother was looking directly at their table now.
Hazel saw her and swallowed, quickly hiding the cigarette underneath the table. “She definitely noticed me smoking now.”
They were lucky. They threw the headmistress three innocent smiles and Fairy Godmother turned back to her own cake, important priorities.
Chloe smiled, burgundy lipstick still marking her mouth.
Hazel had the inconvenient thought that Chloe looked entirely too good with her lipstick and her cigarette between her lips. Her whole train derailed when Chloe reached over, stole it from Hazel’s hand again and drew in another slow breath.
Chloe leaned back in her chair as she exhaled, one arm resting along the back, the sharp blue lines of her jacket fitting neatly across her shoulders. Hazel forgot any objections against the theft.
Max watched too. “I must admit that she looks unfairly good in uniform,” he murmured dreamily.
Hazel kept her eyes on Chloe. “This isn’t even her fencing uniform.”
“I am really anticipating tomorrow.”
Chloe brightened. “Tomorrow is the tournament!”
Every school club and sports team had been ordered to perform for the visiting parents the following day. The choir would sing, the debate team would stage a demonstration, the tourney riders would parade through the main field, and the fencing team had been scheduled for an exhibition at noon.
Fairy Godmother had called it a friendly display of skill. Chloe and Hazel had both heard the word friendly and rejected it.
Tomorrow’s tournament was supposed to be an exhibition. Their coach had specifically instructed them not to treat it like a competitive match. They didn’t really listen.
“You’re still fighting me?” Chloe asked.
Hazel leaned back in her chair. “Unless you’re afraid to face a pirate, Charming.”
Chloe laughed, a very dangerous sound for Hazel and Max. “I beat you last time.”
“By one point.” Hazel narrowed her eyes.
“A point is a point.” Chloe’s grin widened.
“You cheated by distracting me,” the pirate objected, faking outrage.
“I didn’t distract you! I only ever fence fair.”
“You smiled at me...”
Chloe snorted. “That sounds like a personal weakness.”
The rest of the schools fencing team rarely lasted long against Chloe. She was too quick and way too competitive for all the prissy princesses and princes. Hazel Hook, daughter of a pirate, was the only one who managed to consistently match her.
“You two are going to frighten the parents,” Max said.
“That is the best part of the whole fight,” Hazel replied.
“You are going to spend ten minutes trying to stab each other beautifully.”
“With blunted blades,” Chloe said.
Hazel took the cigarette back from her and studied Chloe’s tailored blue jacket. “Shame this isn’t the uniform.”
Chloe looked down at herself. “What’s wrong with this?”
“Nothing at all.” Max smiled softly.
Hazel kicked him again, less forcefully this time.
Chloe looked between them. “You both act strange whenever I wear the fencing uniform.”
“We only appreciate school spirit,” Max claimed.
“Deeply,” Hazel added.
Chloe accepted this explanation without question. “I’m looking forward to fighting you.”
“Me too!”
For a moment, the garden, the parents and the destroyed teacup faded and Chloe only had eyes for the pirate.
Chloe could already picture Hazel across the piste, mask lowered, blade raised. Hazel never hesitated with her. She never treated Chloe like a princess who might bruise. She attacked hard, forced Chloe backward and made her earn every point.
There was no one Chloe enjoyed fighting more.
“Though we are not supposed to keep score,” Chloe said.
Hazel laughed like it was just a joke. “Oh, Charming, we will definitely keep score.”
“Obviously,” Chloe nodded.
“We can train a bit before the party tonight.”
Chloe’s eyes lit up.
“There’s a party tonight?”
“Boathouse by the lake,” Hazel said. “Red will pick the three of us up.”
“No parents,” Max said. “No teachers.”
“No one named Percival,” Hazel added.
Chloe passed Max another bite of cake. He accepted it from her fork with considerably less ceremony this time, the tea not forgotten, though his expression remained blissful. “I’m in.”