Crossing the line

Angels of wrath

They descended like angels of wrath to the first level, Alain at the front, he closing the march. Tristan lagged a little behind and Frances fell into step with him without him asking.

— "Are you all right?", he asked.

— "No. Those people are supposed to help us thrive, and they dig a hole. Calling Madeleyne a whore..."

She'd seen right through their screens.

— "People are led by their fear"

Wrathful hazel eyes turned to him as she swore.

— "If you're thinking about miss Pansy, I think she should get laid instead!"

Tristan smirked, his eyes never leaving Frances'.

— "Good point, I think. But never admit I said that"

For a moment, she just watched him, jaw slack. Then, as her comrades disappeared into the stairs, his hand snaked around her shoulder to squeeze it. He didn't miss the tears springing to her eyes but she swallowed them down. Better to stand strong until the battle was won. So when she hopped down the stairs, bouncing like a fairy, he said nothing more.

— "I adored her, that woman, really."

— "Miss Pansy ?"

— "Yes. I abhor her now"

He could understand how it tore her apart; the class had adopted their main teacher in those difficult times. To have her turn her back against them was heart wrenching.

— "It is always difficult to realise the people we love are human"

And didn't he know it ! His wife had taught him firsthand. He forced his fingers to stop twisting around his wedding band; this battle didn't concern him. Even if he knew what kind of woman Miss Pansy was – funny, intelligent, controlling and very, very prejudiced against men - he had had no business sharing it with his students until now. But she had gone too far; her fear of the other sex, her contempt, even, had dire consequences on her own charges. The open door of her classroom came into view and Frances stomped forward.

— "Well, she's going to hate me now, because I sure as hell am going to give my opinion on the matter"

— "Do not ever let the fire die I you, Frances."

The young woman gave him a peculiar look before entering the room. There was a great hush in the applied sciences class when they eventually made their way inside and Frances took deliberate, slow steps to get to her seat. At the very front.

Alain tried to negociate and cajole, meeting a wall until miss Pansy mentioned that they had commissioned a psychiatrist to make an assessment. Florent snorted at that:

— "Let him come, perhaps he can do something for you"

The remark landed like a SKUD, the main teacher loosing two shades of colour as she considered her best class. 45 youngsters that she had just alienated because of her prejudices against men. What a waste... to loose the loyalty of such brilliant minds and hearts. To loose the respect of Frances who attacked head first.

— "You spoke of gang bang. You spoke of unamable things that have no place in our school, and you called her a whore on her birthday. This is more despicable than anything we could have done"

Tristan's chest filled with pride; oh, she was riled up, the little fairy. And her words cut deep, so true that they rang in the classroom. Miss Pansy's features turned stony, her eyes flashing in anger.

— "That is enough, Frances. You shut up now"

And the young woman, rather than retaliate, chose to flee through the secondary door. Tristan had no time to close the distance as he saw her reddish hair disappear in the restroom on the other side of the corridor. The student's distress tugged at him the wrong way.