My Fairy Queen Anne

honey, i am no one's exception

Anne loved her new English class, to say the very least. It was everything she ever dreamed of, and her teacher was amazing.

Mrs. Irving was a petite woman with carefully styled snow white hair and girlish brown eyes. She was in her 40s, but she radiated an aura of innocence, almost like Ruby but more otherworldly. Her imagination was almost as good as Anne's. She was a sure kindred sprit. It didn't ease her longing to be back with her dearest Miss Aimee though, so Anne kept up frequent visitations. Still, it was such a comfort to find kindred spirits at every turn!

"Class is dismissed! Your assignment today is to pick a quote from the last chapter of Jane Eyre and write a half-page literary analysis about it," she announced as students packed up.

Just as Anne was about to leave, she felt a little tap on her shoulder. She turned to see a tall and distinguished looking man, with a block of slicked dark hair, neatly groomed quite unlike Gilbert's mop, melancholy and inscrutable dark eyes, and a radiant smile that was almost bewitching.

When she was but a girl, she had imagined a man just like him as her romantic ideal, manly and mysterious, but now she had someone far better, someone who really understood her inside and out. Plus, Gilbert was far more handsome than this man. Just his chin was miles beyond what any boy she'd ever seen had to offer. Now she knew that romance wasn't about wickedness or thrills, it was about the emotional understanding and genuine chemistry between two people.

"I couldn't help but notice that you weren't in this class prior to last week. My name is Royal Gardner," he introduced, putting out his hand. Anne shook her hand gently, smiling at the kind boy. She felt self conscious when she saw a crowd of girls all glower at her. It seemed that this boy was quite the popular ladies man!

"Anne Shirley-Cuthbert-B-" she cut herself off, cringing at her misspeak, knowing she had been thinking of this subject way too often. Her hand floated down to her little carrot charm like it often did when she was fussing. "You're right, I transferred from a more basic class."

"I'm guessing you're not a writing major then?"

"No, teaching actually."

"How noble," Royal said. "I heard you during class. You're very intelligent. Too many of these girls are insipid and vain and yet, still complain about notions of equality without putting in the work. It's refreshing to see someone so beautiful yet so unique. I thought teaching certificates only require a basic level of English?" She was slightly offended that he thought girls were any less worthy of intelligence than boys just because they were a bit feminine, but she carried the conversation out of decency and politeness. After all, if men could preen over their hockey players she saw no reason women should be branded insipid for taking a fancy to some ribbon once in a while! 

"They do, but I genuinely wanted to learn more advanced English. I'm an avid writer," she explained.

"Really? I'm a poet myself," he said excitedly, flashing her a grin that she was sure made three girls behind her swoon. It was understandable, but not for her. Royal was handsome, but he wasn't much better than average when she had Gilbert. Nothing could bring her to the depths of despair when she thought about him. 

"How perfectly delightful! I love recitations, but I'm more inclined towards prose than poetry."

"Understandable. I've always found prose to be fascinating, but there is something romantic about poetry, wouldn't you say?" he asked, a spark in his pitch dark eyes. She was a bit uncomfortable as his rapturous gaze fell on her. She held her books close to her chest, covering up the upper half of her torso, and she could've sworn his smile dulled a bit. Gilbert was always happy to see her, no matter if she was wearing baggy rags or her finest, formfitting, most womanly dress.