#taylorphoebe

Diana hadn’t realized that she wasn’t alone, having stepped out into the garden of the De Clermont castle. She had been lost in thought, thinking of her children, her aunt, everything that was going on. When she heard the human she turned and smiled warmly at her, “yeah unfortunately I’m in the same boat, if you get higher up on the castle wall sometimes you can get a bar or two. If we’re here any longer, I’m going to ask Ysabeau who her carrier is.” Standing up she walked over and said, “you must be Phoebe.” She held out her hand and smiled, “Marcus has told me a lot about you.”

@taylorphoebe asked: whatever it is, just tell me. it can’t be that bad. (for ella !!)

Lips pressed together in a tight, serious line, Ella stared at the object in her hands, bottom lip jutted out slightly. It was silly, she could do it all over again, it wasn’t a complicated recipe, but she had spent all day breathing in the scent and waiting for the moment she would finally bite into the pastry.

“I’m a professional baker. And I confused sugar with salt. It is that bad, this is atrocious, Phoebe!” Setting the cake down on the table, she sat down with a little huff, tone chastising. She hadn’t done this in… she had never done this before!   Always careful, she was used to creating wonderful things or laughing at her mistakes when she was trying out a new recipe. But her classic sponge cake? “And it still smells nice. It’s mocking me!”

"Marcus speaks fondly of you," the man told her, but there was a question hidden in the words, something deeper that she couldn't quite unearth. She had met him only once before, but then they had not spoken, and he was like one of the paintings she knew so well - a whole on the surface, but fractured underneath. Layer upon layer of hidden worlds and lifetimes. He might look charming, yes, but Phoebe could feel it in her bones: this man was a dangerous creature.