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"You have a sword? Are you a Captain of the Guard too or are you pretending to be one?"
Pretending?! That struck her wrong. But the kid probably didn’t know any better. Cassandra forced a grin. “Well, I’m guarding the princess of Corona.”
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@petitjongleur continued from here
“I’m Adora, It’s nice to meet you Zephyr.” the princess smiled, bobbing a small curtsy as she was taught. The little girl’s golden brown eyes gazed at the boy curiously. “Do you like juggling then? It must take a lot of practice... I don’t think I could ever do it. I’ve seen Papa’s jester- That’s my Papa over there-” she nodded over at her father, busy in conversation with some official or another. “Anyway, I’ve seen him juggle all sorts of things, sometimes while he walks on his hands! It looks so difficult, but Mama says most difficult things become easier with practice.”
"Mama! MAMA!" Zephyr yelled in partial excitement laced with panic. He was finally juggling correctly, the only problem was that he didn't know how to stop! "They just keep going! How do I make 'em stop moving?"
@petitjongleur
A proud smile was presented upon her lips towards the achievement of her son’s juggling. “Very good, Zephyr.” But towards his concern, she stepped forward towards him. “Just stop moving your hands and try to catch the balls. Let them fall if you have to.” If not, Esmeralda would have to grab the balls herself.
"Grandpa Clopin! Grandpa Clopin! Guess what? Mama told me that you're the King of the Romani and that she's the Queen! Isn't that awesome?"
Grandpa. The term, though meant to be pleasant, made him feel old. Clopin resisted the urge to drag a hand down his face and groan at the fact but instead decided to offer a smile to the enthusiastic boy. “Ah, so she finally told you about that, did she?” He questioned, ruffling the child’s hair gently. “Oui, it’s very ‘awesome’, if I do say so myself!”
“No! Please! I’ll tell you whatever you want to know!”
Terry Pratchett Sentence Starters
“Oh really?” Clopin asked, a fleeting grin appearing briefly upon his unmasked face before vanishing. The usually jovial puppet master knelt down so he was closer to the boy’s level, even if he was kneeling in sewage. With careful yet quick precision, he snatched the back of Zephyr’s tunic similar to how a cat would grab a kitten. “How did you get down here?” He inquired with a raised brow. “How did you find this place?” Intruders were commonplace down here in the old catacombs, and those were easily taken care of. Sending such threats to the noose would normally give him some semblance of morbid satisfaction. But this was not a soldier, nor a spy, unless they were enlisting children now. Clopin really doubted it. “Come on, boy, what’s your play?” He asked with a frown, trying to be stern but remain gentle.
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"Mama! Mama! Can I go to Notre Dame to see the bells? Can I? Please?"
“It’s not a matter of if, but when. You know you can’t leave home if your room is a mess. Don’t leave anything out unless you want Djali to eat it, and that includes your good hose, I don’t care if they itch.”
"Papa." the toddler grinned as he sat on the floor saying the word for the first time.
If he were to describe himself, sentimental would be one of the last words to come to mind. However, he couldn’t manage to put a stopper in the tenderness swelling through his chest as he looked down into the face of his son. Papa. The word bubbled from his mouth with such ease…glee lighting up the little face at the declaration. Phoebus couldn’t hide the beam mirrored in his own features even if he had wanted to.
“That’s right, son,” he said, ruffling the little crop of golden hair with a gentle hand. “Papa” he repeated, pointing at his own chest– “and Zephyr!” he cooed, swooping up his son and nuzzling him playfully.
“💭”
Send “💭” for my characters thoughts on yours. // Accepting
“Ah, mon chauv, you are a delight to know and a wonderful child. You have your father’s golden hair and your mother’s free and curious spirit. Continue to accept those different from you with open arms. You will be a light in this world.”
