A long time ago, in a fantastic world where fairy tale characters really exist and are trained in a school to their role accordingly, there was once a special dean at the School for Evil, a Reader, that is, a person not born as a fairy tale character, named Eleonora Lesso, actually it was Deauville, but virtually no one knew that. Not even the head of the School for Good, who went by the name of Clarissa Dovey.
It's silly that a Reader, or rather the Dean of the School of Evil, even at that age still has trouble attending daily meals. That Clarissa sits right next to her every time, entirely not. Sometimes Yuba presses himself so hard against her that her thigh presses firmly against the blonde's dress. No matter how she admonishes him, he sees it more as a reinforcement of what he has done, even when she slams her cane down on his fingers until some of the dark alloy chips into his skin. There is still so much she wants to say to her, but ever since Tedro's father Arthur started teaching a sword fight at the School of Good, Clarissa is always around him, letting herself be charmed by his nasty ways. Lesso had long since given up paying attention to the fairy godmother, as it seems she has already found her new true love and she is becoming more and more like Dovey's nemesis. If she could turn back time, she still wouldn't because Rafel has made her into something she never wanted to be.
She slowly plays with the pins of her shirt sleeves as she largely tries to avert her attention from the older blonde.
"Hey Lesso, is everything alright, did Dovey cast a little spell on you? You seem like you're in another fairy tale in your mind."
"Me in Dovey? You've got to be kidding me. Evil and good don't belong together. We're just each other's nemesis. Shouldn't you be preparing for your lessons instead of bothering me? I'm sure the little princesses can't wait to get even more shallow."
"What are you talking about? That's not what I meant-"
Before the teacher of good could retort a single word, Lesso was already standing up angrily, agonisingly suppressing the emotions she was really feeling. She could lash herself for never telling her princess how much she appreciated her. It would have been just three short words after all, maybe Dovey wouldn't be so attached to the King of Camelot now, but to her, the Dean of the School of Evil. Now it will never happen, for she saw that she had already lost the battle before it really began. She can't sit with her any longer, because any more seconds with the other dean would be even worse than the punishments she inflicts on her students every day for not being what the villain of a fairy tale should be. She is living proof. that love or the slightest expression of affection poisons you, even though she knows nothing of human emotions, actions and feelings. They are probably foreign words in a language she cannot even read. Each step on the bright marble slabs of the floor echoed loudly throughout the school's dining hall as most abandoned their meal for a moment to watch the spectacle at the teacher's table intently. Hester, Dot and some of the wolves winced in earnest at this as Lesso occasionally sprouted a few fireballs from her hands and dropped them on the student body and staff before making her way back to her school.
Dovey interrupted her heartfelt discussion and touches with the king when she too finally noticed the absence of the redhead and caught sight of Anemone's confused expression. Not a single word flowed from her mouth, but from the look on the teacher's face, she was aware that she was screwing something up that she wasn't even aware of. The king tried to engage her in conversation again, but she reluctantly slapped his hairy hand and tried to ignore his shocked look.
"Anemone, a word please."
"Sure, Clarissa.Maybe then you'll finally see what you've done."
The blonde immediately took the Asian princess's hand and pulled her into an empty classroom where a couple of Ever Princes were getting a little more intimate, their play suddenly stopping abruptly as the two teachers opened the door. They quickly readjusted their clothes and ran briskly down the bright hall with a small apology. Before I knew it Anemone was already pressing Dovey as the yellow woodchip wallpaper and giving her a look that could have come from Lesso. Her fingers pressed insistently lightly against the woman's neck.
