[Fic] The Princess and Her Uncle Part 2: Spark and Evil
"W-who...are you?"
In front of Clarita was a blond boy, who seemed to be younger than she is, judging by his approximate height. A lock of hair stood out, like Uncle's curled hair strand. He had blue eyes as well, but that didn't make him look like Francis, or at least, he didn't really look like her blond uncle. He was dressed in both simple clothes and the clothes of the nobles, making him look like a jester. Clarita didn’t seem to mind, though.
"I'm Alfred! And someday I'm gonna be the best knight ever!" the boy joyfully introduced himself.
--
If he had not decided that he'd take care of Clarita, Francis and Lovino would still be in the labyrinth of loneliness. Feliciano had the job well done. He made sure of it.
The first few years of Clarita's existence, he had such a difficult time with keeping up with the toddler's playfulness. He would think of his grandfather, and wonder how the latter had managed to raise the three brothers. That was enough inspiration for the young prince. Though, his brothers commented that it was nice that he shouldered such a responsibility in their place, but it would be a scandal for him, as Feliciano was single, 'still a virgin,' but is rearing a child who almost looks like him because of her father. True enough, he panics whenever one would ask if the girl was his.
As a child, Clarita would ask for stories from her 'uncle.' Feliciano didn't want anyone to think that he had a child outside of marriage or such ideology, so he taught the young girl to call him 'uncle' instead. He could bear with it, though it was still scandalous that Francis did not have a child, or at least they thought so, even though he was married, and Lovino was merely engaged. If she was happy, he would be as well.
Sometimes, she'd ask too many things for him to answer. She was very curious, and she loved to have knowledge of the heavens, of human nature, of history. She loved to talk with her 'uncle,' and vice-versa.
She also preferred to use the English language. Feliciano had several attempts to get her to speak in what we know as Latin, French, Spanish, and Italian, yet she shook her head. He finally shook his head in defeat.
One day, Clarita had noticed one thing, and from that question, she and her 'uncle' ended up entering a deal. By then, she was barely nine years old. They were in her room, sharing stories, when she asked out of the blue, "Why does Uncle Lovino look at me with such sadness in his eyes?"
At first, Feliciano did not know how to answer. At that time, he had fully understood why Lovino was overcome with grief when Antonio had died, and he accepted such a fact. Antonio was dead, and their affection for each other was inconspicuously shown; that very secret only known to the brothers. How could Feliciano reply to such a question?
"You see, Clarita," Feliciano sighed after a long pause, "Fratello is a very nice person, though he is seen as often angry, but he remembers someone in you."
"Who?"
That was an expected inquiry to which he guessed will branch to a discussion. They had little time before dinner, and at dinner, they were not supposed to talk.
"Your father," Feliciano said, hesitations obvious.
"I see, Uncle Feli," she merely nodded, "But why? And why can't Father see me?"
"Fratello and An...I mean, your father, are rather...very close. Like us," he paused to smile at the youth and think of a lie, "And your father, well...he's...busy."
"Oh...but why does he not send letters to me?"
"...he has a lot of children. If I could remember, you're the youngest."
"Aw... that's unfair! But why forget me?"
"I already told you he's busy...and he's not sure with what you like."
This was a wrong turn for Feliciano. He only realized it the second he finished it.
"Then please tell him I like flowers! Flowers!" she cried.
"O-okay. Flowers. What kind of flowers? Every flower has its own meaning!" the man inquired.
"Really?! Then please tell him to give me...something that symbolizes remembrance."
Remembrance?! Poor Feliciano. How on earth will he find forget-me-nots? They do not grow in their kingdom.
"Okay, okay, I'll tell him that..."
Someone knocked on the door. The person said, "Your Highnesses, dinner is served."
It was temporary relief for the young prince, or at least, that's what he thought. The more he worried about it, the more he gets troubled. If the kingdom was to send a message to somewhere that had the same distance as what was once Antonio's kingdom, it would take them approximately a complete day. In the case of Lovino, he took a secret path which only they knew, and he was on the fastest horse of the kingdom, given to him on his twentieth birthday. However, Lovino did not allow anyone else to ride his horse.
The other three who were at the table - his brothers and his 'niece' - looked at him, concern in their eyes. He wasn't eating; he was merely looking in the distance. However, because talking while one is at the table was not considered pleasing, Lovino tapped his brother on the shoulder instead. The tap instantly brought Feliciano back down to earth, and gestured that he was fine.
After their dinner, Feliciano convinced Clarita to sleep, and his brothers to talk about the forget-me-nots.
"What?! B-but...doesn't...well, I think that--" Lovino did not know what to say.
"They grow in a rival kingdom, don't they?" Francis chuckled.
"T-then...what am I supposed to say to Clarita?" Feliciano irritatingly asked.
"Don't worry, Feli, I'll find a way. I have my own ways to get something without negotiating."
The other two shared a look, and was struck by disbelief, "For real?!"
"Ohoho! Franchement, ca m'est egal, mes…because of your efforts, and it involves him, I won't back out.”
"Grazie! Grazie!"
Feliciano's eyes were filled with delight, as his voice was. Lovino half-heartedly smiled, knowing what the 'him' meant. Francis only nodded, and stood from where he sat.
"I'll be in my room. Do not dare to open it."
"Sure. Good night, Fratello," Feliciano said, yet he did not receive a response.
Lovino retreated to his own bedroom a few moments later, saying nothing; hence the youngest as well went to sleep.
Sure enough, Francis personally delivered a bouquet of forget-me-nots to Clarita, though it took almost a week before the girl had it on her hands. The blond also wanted to appear as a 'good uncle' to the girl. She was too pleased with the flowers, and muttered her gratitude softly. Francis blushed at this, and chuckled.
Clarita also thanked Feliciano for 'sending the message and all,' to which the latter merely shrugged and smiled.
"Why don't you give your Uncle Francis some flowers as well, as gratitude?" the young prince suggested.
"Hm...what kind of flowers?" the little princess wondered.
"His favorite ones are lilies. He'll be pleased for sure."
Clarita hurried to order some servants to get her some lilies which do not belong to anyone's garden, and they carried out the task smoothly. She then quickly went to find Francis' room. However, the moment she was to knock the door, she heard some voices coming from the other side.
"R-really?!" said an unfamiliar voice joyfully, "I'm so happy!"
"Ohoho, you sure are, mon petit lapin," another voice, surely belonging to Clarita's 'oldest uncle,' said.
"I'm not a rabbit, you git."
"Whatever you say. I feel a little guilty that I was the one who delivered the forget-me-nots to her."
"Come on, don't worry about it. If she's happy, then I'm happy as well--ow!!"
"Now, now, keep your voice down, sil tu plait? You don't want to be caught by my younger brothers."
"But it hurts!"
"Relax; if I don't do this, then it will hurt more."
More groans, complaints of pain, and reassuring words poured out. What was going on inside?
"It's bad to pry on someone's privacy, princess," a hand found its way on the princess' hair.
Clarita turned so quickly, that her hair whipped the hand's owner's face.
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" she rushed to the person, only to find an unfamiliar face.
"No, no, it's alright! It was my fault to the first place," the person smiled, rubbing the sore spot.
"W-who...are you?"
In front of Clarita was a blond boy, who seemed to be younger than she is, judging by his approximate height. A lock of hair stood out, like Uncle's curled hair strand. He had blue eyes as well, but that didn't make him look like Francis, or at least, he didn't really look like her blond uncle. He was dressed in both simple clothes and the clothes of the nobles, making him look like a jester. Clarita didn’t seem to mind, though.
"I'm Alfred! And someday I'm gonna be the best knight ever!" the boy joyfully introduced himself.
"I see! That's nice!" Clarita grinned, "I'm Maria Clara, or at least, that's what I call myself. They call me Clarita."
"Ooh. I want to have an awesome-r name! Yours is already so cool!"
"Really? Thank you!"
"So whaddya want me to call you? Maria? Clara? Clarita? Or..."
"I don't have much of a preference."
"How about 'Pretty?'"
Clarita blushed at the statement; nevertheless she replied, "That's fine as well...just make it something proper."
"Okay! Then it's settled! I'm your knight from now on!"
"Huh? B-but, am I not supposed to have a knight guarding me unless I'm at least 16 years of age?"
"Eh...it's just temporarily like that! For the moment, I'm your knight, okay?"
"...mind if I call you Alfie?"
"...that sounds too girly."
"But it's cute!"
Clarita showed a sweet grin, and it made the boy's cheeks flush.
"…fine. Just because it makes a damsel like you smile."
Clarita jumped in glee, and almost forgot about the lilies, if Alfred did not take notice.
“Oh, what are those flowers for?” the boy pointed to the lilies.
“Ah! I forgot! Please excuse me for a moment.”
Clarita picked the flowers which were carelessly dropped and made sure they were still in good condition. She, then, knocked on Francis’ door, and the adult opened it slightly.
“Oui? Qu'est-ce que?” he said.
“It’s me!” Clarita opened her arms wide, the flowers in one hand.
“For moi? That’s very nice of you!”
He allowed the princess into his room, and entertained her for almost an hour. Alfred was getting impatient, and dragged Clarita without any further thought when she finally went out of the room.
“Where are you taking me?! And that wasn’t very nice!” Clarita complained.
“I want to show you something, when that stupid man--” Alfred huffed.
“He isn’t stupid! And he’s not just somebody!”
“Whatever! What if he did something creepy to you?”
“He’s not that kind of man!”
“Still!”
“Hmp!”
Clarita slapped her hand away. Chocolate brown orbs flared with anger. They seemed to scream, “I hate you,” again and again. It somehow surprised the male, though only for a moment.
Luckily for both of them, Francis had finally taken notice of Alfred’s presence and requested him kindly to leave, and Clarita to go back to her ‘own quarters.’ Alfred insisted on staying, hence the two males began to argue, with Clarita trying to stop them.
Feliciano, in the nick of time, had passed by the scene and quickly ordered them to be at peace. He forcefully took Alfred outside, convincing him to stop arguing with the older blond, and had Francis escort the princess to her room. The eldest prince sighed as he let the little princess walk in.
It’s not your fault, Uncle.
What was that?! Francis looked at the recently closed door. Did Clarita just--?! No, no, what he was thinking of wasn’t possible. Clarita already entered, and she looked too furious to talk. It might be his age - non, non, c’est imposible, he was only in his thirties. He was tired, oui, oui, it was only out of fatigue.
Meanwhile, Clarita had been sobbing into her pillow. Fingers gripped the cotton; tears wet the fabric. She did not understand. Why do they have to take my first friend outside of the palace away? I have not seen much of the outside world as well!
“It’s unfair!” she shouted, a hand releasing its hold and hitting against the softness, “Why?! Why?! Why?!”
It may have been that she was drowned by her frustrations that she did not hear the knocking on the door. It was Feliciano, who checked if his ‘niece’ was fine. He decided that a tap on the shoulder was best to gain attention. Luck was on his side that moment.
“Happy now?!” Clarita sarcastically asked.
“Clarita,” he sighed, “You must understand the differences and boundaries that build a wall between people.”
“You don’t even let me out of the palace.”
“True…true…I hate seeing you like this.”
“Then do something about it!” A pillow hit Feliciano's face, and he merely sighed.
“Clarita, hush, I’m trying to make up with you…I have a proposal!” The young prince grinned at the girl.
“Hm?”
“Clarita, promise me that your sweetest smile is only for me. Never, ever, cry. You’re too pretty to be sad! You may show a neutral expression, but please, never be sad. If there’s something troubling you, say it to me, okay? In return, we’ll allow him back in here.”
“R-really?!” Clarita’s tears stopped flowing, to be replaced by a wide smile.
“Of course! But then, don’t let him be seen by your Uncle Francis. He dislikes that boy, for a reason. So…”
The prince reached out a hand to stroke the little princess’ hair, and the girl tilted her head in confusion.
“Don’t be sad anymore, okay?” he grinned, and with that, his ‘niece’ returned the happiness.
“Okay!”
A big smile graced her lips, and Feliciano knew that he was in deep trouble again.
You shouldn’t have made this agreement.
Feliciano heard that voice again. What was it about, really? The voices had been there ever since Clarita came into his life. It might have been my conscience. What kind of power does this girl hold?
“I’m feeling a bit tired,” Feliciano said, “Take care, okay?”
Clarita answered, “Okay! Thank you very much, Uncle!”
As Feliciano went out of the door, and Clarita got up, the prince heard a familiar melody. He looked back, and saw a red, blue, and white music box decorated with three stars and a sun with several around it on the girl’s hands. He shrugged it off, the somehow sad music encouraging him more to sleep. When he had closed the door, he had heard singing coming from inside. Was it my imagination that Clarita is singing in Lytian?
--
Sheeez. That took me a long time to decide about it, and several hours to type it all.
And so, Alfred makes it to the scene. Wheehee. And maybe I'll update weekly.
--
Several explanations, translations, and notes:
1.) According to an English teacher at our school, "A chicken is raised, a child is reared." This is as exactly it was in his book. O.O
2.) In the past times, you are not allowed to talk at the dining table.
3.) Francis is doing nothing vulgar in his room. Hell, he even let Clarita in!
4.) "How about 'Pretty?'" Hoy, Alfred, [you're still a child but you're already doing such stuff?]
5.) Alfred is only shorter for now. Man, WHY DO BOYS GROW SO TALL?!
6.) "Franchement, ca m'est egal, mes..." - "Frankly, I don't care, but..." - It means that Francis never really confronted Clarita, maybe because of his businesses; therefore he is unsure if he shall trust her.
7.) Moi - me; mon petit lapin - my little rabbit; sil tu plait - please, informal; oui - yes; qu'est-ce que - what is it; grazie - thank you; are there others I missed?
8.) Lytian -> Lytia -> A play on the word, "Italy" XDD
9.) I made a spoiler paper for this story, but I sadly lost it. I had my titles planned out there. And we have the Russian sibs to appear?! And Canada?! Wheehee~
10.) I'm making a PowerPoint on this. Srsly. It contains many, MANY spoilers.
And BTW, what are plot bunnies? *innocently tilts head*
Questions? Comments? Suggestions? Violent Reactions?
Thanks for reading!
Coloring corollary caroling calories. I'll do a request for someone who can say this ten times as fast without getting it tongue twisted.
In front of Clarita was a blond boy, who seemed to be younger than she is, judging by his approximate height. A lock of hair stood out, like Uncle's curled hair strand. He had blue eyes as well, but that didn't make him look like Francis, or at least, he didn't really look like her blond uncle. He was dressed in both simple clothes and the clothes of the nobles, making him look like a jester. Clarita didn’t seem to mind, though.
"I'm Alfred! And someday I'm gonna be the best knight ever!" the boy joyfully introduced himself.
--
If he had not decided that he'd take care of Clarita, Francis and Lovino would still be in the labyrinth of loneliness. Feliciano had the job well done. He made sure of it.
The first few years of Clarita's existence, he had such a difficult time with keeping up with the toddler's playfulness. He would think of his grandfather, and wonder how the latter had managed to raise the three brothers. That was enough inspiration for the young prince. Though, his brothers commented that it was nice that he shouldered such a responsibility in their place, but it would be a scandal for him, as Feliciano was single, 'still a virgin,' but is rearing a child who almost looks like him because of her father. True enough, he panics whenever one would ask if the girl was his.
As a child, Clarita would ask for stories from her 'uncle.' Feliciano didn't want anyone to think that he had a child outside of marriage or such ideology, so he taught the young girl to call him 'uncle' instead. He could bear with it, though it was still scandalous that Francis did not have a child, or at least they thought so, even though he was married, and Lovino was merely engaged. If she was happy, he would be as well.
Sometimes, she'd ask too many things for him to answer. She was very curious, and she loved to have knowledge of the heavens, of human nature, of history. She loved to talk with her 'uncle,' and vice-versa.
She also preferred to use the English language. Feliciano had several attempts to get her to speak in what we know as Latin, French, Spanish, and Italian, yet she shook her head. He finally shook his head in defeat.
One day, Clarita had noticed one thing, and from that question, she and her 'uncle' ended up entering a deal. By then, she was barely nine years old. They were in her room, sharing stories, when she asked out of the blue, "Why does Uncle Lovino look at me with such sadness in his eyes?"
At first, Feliciano did not know how to answer. At that time, he had fully understood why Lovino was overcome with grief when Antonio had died, and he accepted such a fact. Antonio was dead, and their affection for each other was inconspicuously shown; that very secret only known to the brothers. How could Feliciano reply to such a question?
"You see, Clarita," Feliciano sighed after a long pause, "Fratello is a very nice person, though he is seen as often angry, but he remembers someone in you."
"Who?"
That was an expected inquiry to which he guessed will branch to a discussion. They had little time before dinner, and at dinner, they were not supposed to talk.
"Your father," Feliciano said, hesitations obvious.
"I see, Uncle Feli," she merely nodded, "But why? And why can't Father see me?"
"Fratello and An...I mean, your father, are rather...very close. Like us," he paused to smile at the youth and think of a lie, "And your father, well...he's...busy."
"Oh...but why does he not send letters to me?"
"...he has a lot of children. If I could remember, you're the youngest."
"Aw... that's unfair! But why forget me?"
"I already told you he's busy...and he's not sure with what you like."
This was a wrong turn for Feliciano. He only realized it the second he finished it.
"Then please tell him I like flowers! Flowers!" she cried.
"O-okay. Flowers. What kind of flowers? Every flower has its own meaning!" the man inquired.
"Really?! Then please tell him to give me...something that symbolizes remembrance."
Remembrance?! Poor Feliciano. How on earth will he find forget-me-nots? They do not grow in their kingdom.
"Okay, okay, I'll tell him that..."
Someone knocked on the door. The person said, "Your Highnesses, dinner is served."
It was temporary relief for the young prince, or at least, that's what he thought. The more he worried about it, the more he gets troubled. If the kingdom was to send a message to somewhere that had the same distance as what was once Antonio's kingdom, it would take them approximately a complete day. In the case of Lovino, he took a secret path which only they knew, and he was on the fastest horse of the kingdom, given to him on his twentieth birthday. However, Lovino did not allow anyone else to ride his horse.
The other three who were at the table - his brothers and his 'niece' - looked at him, concern in their eyes. He wasn't eating; he was merely looking in the distance. However, because talking while one is at the table was not considered pleasing, Lovino tapped his brother on the shoulder instead. The tap instantly brought Feliciano back down to earth, and gestured that he was fine.
After their dinner, Feliciano convinced Clarita to sleep, and his brothers to talk about the forget-me-nots.
"What?! B-but...doesn't...well, I think that--" Lovino did not know what to say.
"They grow in a rival kingdom, don't they?" Francis chuckled.
"T-then...what am I supposed to say to Clarita?" Feliciano irritatingly asked.
"Don't worry, Feli, I'll find a way. I have my own ways to get something without negotiating."
The other two shared a look, and was struck by disbelief, "For real?!"
"Ohoho! Franchement, ca m'est egal, mes…because of your efforts, and it involves him, I won't back out.”
"Grazie! Grazie!"
Feliciano's eyes were filled with delight, as his voice was. Lovino half-heartedly smiled, knowing what the 'him' meant. Francis only nodded, and stood from where he sat.
"I'll be in my room. Do not dare to open it."
"Sure. Good night, Fratello," Feliciano said, yet he did not receive a response.
Lovino retreated to his own bedroom a few moments later, saying nothing; hence the youngest as well went to sleep.
Sure enough, Francis personally delivered a bouquet of forget-me-nots to Clarita, though it took almost a week before the girl had it on her hands. The blond also wanted to appear as a 'good uncle' to the girl. She was too pleased with the flowers, and muttered her gratitude softly. Francis blushed at this, and chuckled.
Clarita also thanked Feliciano for 'sending the message and all,' to which the latter merely shrugged and smiled.
"Why don't you give your Uncle Francis some flowers as well, as gratitude?" the young prince suggested.
"Hm...what kind of flowers?" the little princess wondered.
"His favorite ones are lilies. He'll be pleased for sure."
Clarita hurried to order some servants to get her some lilies which do not belong to anyone's garden, and they carried out the task smoothly. She then quickly went to find Francis' room. However, the moment she was to knock the door, she heard some voices coming from the other side.
"R-really?!" said an unfamiliar voice joyfully, "I'm so happy!"
"Ohoho, you sure are, mon petit lapin," another voice, surely belonging to Clarita's 'oldest uncle,' said.
"I'm not a rabbit, you git."
"Whatever you say. I feel a little guilty that I was the one who delivered the forget-me-nots to her."
"Come on, don't worry about it. If she's happy, then I'm happy as well--ow!!"
"Now, now, keep your voice down, sil tu plait? You don't want to be caught by my younger brothers."
"But it hurts!"
"Relax; if I don't do this, then it will hurt more."
More groans, complaints of pain, and reassuring words poured out. What was going on inside?
"It's bad to pry on someone's privacy, princess," a hand found its way on the princess' hair.
Clarita turned so quickly, that her hair whipped the hand's owner's face.
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" she rushed to the person, only to find an unfamiliar face.
"No, no, it's alright! It was my fault to the first place," the person smiled, rubbing the sore spot.
"W-who...are you?"
In front of Clarita was a blond boy, who seemed to be younger than she is, judging by his approximate height. A lock of hair stood out, like Uncle's curled hair strand. He had blue eyes as well, but that didn't make him look like Francis, or at least, he didn't really look like her blond uncle. He was dressed in both simple clothes and the clothes of the nobles, making him look like a jester. Clarita didn’t seem to mind, though.
"I'm Alfred! And someday I'm gonna be the best knight ever!" the boy joyfully introduced himself.
"I see! That's nice!" Clarita grinned, "I'm Maria Clara, or at least, that's what I call myself. They call me Clarita."
"Ooh. I want to have an awesome-r name! Yours is already so cool!"
"Really? Thank you!"
"So whaddya want me to call you? Maria? Clara? Clarita? Or..."
"I don't have much of a preference."
"How about 'Pretty?'"
Clarita blushed at the statement; nevertheless she replied, "That's fine as well...just make it something proper."
"Okay! Then it's settled! I'm your knight from now on!"
"Huh? B-but, am I not supposed to have a knight guarding me unless I'm at least 16 years of age?"
"Eh...it's just temporarily like that! For the moment, I'm your knight, okay?"
"...mind if I call you Alfie?"
"...that sounds too girly."
"But it's cute!"
Clarita showed a sweet grin, and it made the boy's cheeks flush.
"…fine. Just because it makes a damsel like you smile."
Clarita jumped in glee, and almost forgot about the lilies, if Alfred did not take notice.
“Oh, what are those flowers for?” the boy pointed to the lilies.
“Ah! I forgot! Please excuse me for a moment.”
Clarita picked the flowers which were carelessly dropped and made sure they were still in good condition. She, then, knocked on Francis’ door, and the adult opened it slightly.
“Oui? Qu'est-ce que?” he said.
“It’s me!” Clarita opened her arms wide, the flowers in one hand.
“For moi? That’s very nice of you!”
He allowed the princess into his room, and entertained her for almost an hour. Alfred was getting impatient, and dragged Clarita without any further thought when she finally went out of the room.
“Where are you taking me?! And that wasn’t very nice!” Clarita complained.
“I want to show you something, when that stupid man--” Alfred huffed.
“He isn’t stupid! And he’s not just somebody!”
“Whatever! What if he did something creepy to you?”
“He’s not that kind of man!”
“Still!”
“Hmp!”
Clarita slapped her hand away. Chocolate brown orbs flared with anger. They seemed to scream, “I hate you,” again and again. It somehow surprised the male, though only for a moment.
Luckily for both of them, Francis had finally taken notice of Alfred’s presence and requested him kindly to leave, and Clarita to go back to her ‘own quarters.’ Alfred insisted on staying, hence the two males began to argue, with Clarita trying to stop them.
Feliciano, in the nick of time, had passed by the scene and quickly ordered them to be at peace. He forcefully took Alfred outside, convincing him to stop arguing with the older blond, and had Francis escort the princess to her room. The eldest prince sighed as he let the little princess walk in.
It’s not your fault, Uncle.
What was that?! Francis looked at the recently closed door. Did Clarita just--?! No, no, what he was thinking of wasn’t possible. Clarita already entered, and she looked too furious to talk. It might be his age - non, non, c’est imposible, he was only in his thirties. He was tired, oui, oui, it was only out of fatigue.
Meanwhile, Clarita had been sobbing into her pillow. Fingers gripped the cotton; tears wet the fabric. She did not understand. Why do they have to take my first friend outside of the palace away? I have not seen much of the outside world as well!
“It’s unfair!” she shouted, a hand releasing its hold and hitting against the softness, “Why?! Why?! Why?!”
It may have been that she was drowned by her frustrations that she did not hear the knocking on the door. It was Feliciano, who checked if his ‘niece’ was fine. He decided that a tap on the shoulder was best to gain attention. Luck was on his side that moment.
“Happy now?!” Clarita sarcastically asked.
“Clarita,” he sighed, “You must understand the differences and boundaries that build a wall between people.”
“You don’t even let me out of the palace.”
“True…true…I hate seeing you like this.”
“Then do something about it!” A pillow hit Feliciano's face, and he merely sighed.
“Clarita, hush, I’m trying to make up with you…I have a proposal!” The young prince grinned at the girl.
“Hm?”
“Clarita, promise me that your sweetest smile is only for me. Never, ever, cry. You’re too pretty to be sad! You may show a neutral expression, but please, never be sad. If there’s something troubling you, say it to me, okay? In return, we’ll allow him back in here.”
“R-really?!” Clarita’s tears stopped flowing, to be replaced by a wide smile.
“Of course! But then, don’t let him be seen by your Uncle Francis. He dislikes that boy, for a reason. So…”
The prince reached out a hand to stroke the little princess’ hair, and the girl tilted her head in confusion.
“Don’t be sad anymore, okay?” he grinned, and with that, his ‘niece’ returned the happiness.
“Okay!”
A big smile graced her lips, and Feliciano knew that he was in deep trouble again.
You shouldn’t have made this agreement.
Feliciano heard that voice again. What was it about, really? The voices had been there ever since Clarita came into his life. It might have been my conscience. What kind of power does this girl hold?
“I’m feeling a bit tired,” Feliciano said, “Take care, okay?”
Clarita answered, “Okay! Thank you very much, Uncle!”
As Feliciano went out of the door, and Clarita got up, the prince heard a familiar melody. He looked back, and saw a red, blue, and white music box decorated with three stars and a sun with several around it on the girl’s hands. He shrugged it off, the somehow sad music encouraging him more to sleep. When he had closed the door, he had heard singing coming from inside. Was it my imagination that Clarita is singing in Lytian?
--
Sheeez. That took me a long time to decide about it, and several hours to type it all.
And so, Alfred makes it to the scene. Wheehee. And maybe I'll update weekly.
--
Several explanations, translations, and notes:
1.) According to an English teacher at our school, "A chicken is raised, a child is reared." This is as exactly it was in his book. O.O
2.) In the past times, you are not allowed to talk at the dining table.
3.) Francis is doing nothing vulgar in his room. Hell, he even let Clarita in!
4.) "How about 'Pretty?'" Hoy, Alfred, [you're still a child but you're already doing such stuff?]
5.) Alfred is only shorter for now. Man, WHY DO BOYS GROW SO TALL?!
6.) "Franchement, ca m'est egal, mes..." - "Frankly, I don't care, but..." - It means that Francis never really confronted Clarita, maybe because of his businesses; therefore he is unsure if he shall trust her.
7.) Moi - me; mon petit lapin - my little rabbit; sil tu plait - please, informal; oui - yes; qu'est-ce que - what is it; grazie - thank you; are there others I missed?
8.) Lytian -> Lytia -> A play on the word, "Italy" XDD
9.) I made a spoiler paper for this story, but I sadly lost it. I had my titles planned out there. And we have the Russian sibs to appear?! And Canada?! Wheehee~
10.) I'm making a PowerPoint on this. Srsly. It contains many, MANY spoilers.
And BTW, what are plot bunnies? *innocently tilts head*
Questions? Comments? Suggestions? Violent Reactions?
Thanks for reading!
Coloring corollary caroling calories. I'll do a request for someone who can say this ten times as fast without getting it tongue twisted.