𝕳𝖊'𝖘 𝕷𝖎𝖐𝖊 𝕬 𝕳𝖞𝖆𝖈𝖎𝖓𝖙𝖍

{ Proverbs 22:6 }

Chapter 3 song: Summer Memories by Gavin Luke

Italics= Mother's Storytelling

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{    "Start children off on the way they should go, and even when they are old they will not turn from it."    }
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"Hey, mommy. What does superrrickil-blah blah blah mean?"

"What?"

"I don't know, Evans said that, yesterday." The little girl says, her shoulders positioning up then down. Her eyes' wandering over to the older woman, her grin appearing just by being in the presence of her beautiful mother.

The familiar fragrance pervading her nose, the saccharine green tea scent clings into her nostrils, embracing her sense of smell whilst adorning her mother's warm waves of laughter. "Now, did he?" Her mother's amused by the concept of her daughter's playmate, the one that's so reserved and silent.

The middle-aged lady begins to rub her arms with her favorite lotion, maintaining the moisture in her skin. Her legs sinking into the depths of the luscious, extravagant blankets overlapping her lower joints. As the little girl initiates to crawl towards her mother's figure.

"Hey mommy, why does E sound...weird?" The girl blurts out, her body moving into her personal space. The daughter's favorite spot is near her mother's chest because she could listen in to her heart beating even when she's asleep, she will be there to aid her if things were to happen.

Her mother hums out, scooping her tiny shape in her grasp, holding her tightly, afraid she might wither away if she were to release her baby.

"That's a rude thing to say, regardless I will tell you a story about the Callaways, specifically Vincent St. Evans Callaway." She recommends. The daughter glistens in delight, the anticipation rushing through her veins.

Vincent was born here, however, in his first seven years, he went to Scotland, adapting, influenced by the Scots linguistic society. He learned their grammar structure, their traditional activities, and military training at a young age.

Eventually, his parents moved back here for unknown reasons. Hysterical, perturbed, and desolated, little seven-year-old Vinny had to assimilate into this country's culture. Although he would revert back to his Gaelic language when he struggled to learn English, he would curse out his mentors, throw items, and use his abilities at them.

It was difficult enough to hire a governess because of their kind, but it was extremely problematic to hire one when their son was acting like a barbarian. That's when they hired me...

"Huh?... I thought you were—"

Yes, yes. I still am, but I had a little side business, just in case, anything happens. Anyways, I was there for the duration of their son's impetuousness. He eventually became the Vincent, you see today. It wasn't easy, but just by doing my duties, I and his parents became closer. Even though we are good friends, they don't tell me all of their family's secrets.

Sooner or later, I met your father around this time, he was the kindest, sweetest nobleman I've ever encountered. Regardless of our skin color, or our different culture, being all psychic, you know. The first time, he laid his eyes on me was right then and there, he knew he found the love of his life.

Your father: F/n would take me out to dinner, and spoil me with his riches even though I tell him not to, he still would do it. That man was as stubborn as a donkey all the way until he...passed. Nobody, not even his wife could make him...budge.

Those two sentences caused a drastic change in her mother's tone. Her elocution begins to shift into a subtle croaky voice, and the daughter's arms automatically commence to become a miniature blanket of reassurance and comfort to the mature woman. The touch of her daughter merely makes her feel a bit better by her being the creation of the two lovebirds.

The remaining living thing they both will forever share. "We don't have to keep talking about daddy." The girl mutters, stuffing her face in her mother's clothing to soothe her desolated nerves. The older female's hand instinctively courses through the small girl's hair, the sensation of touching her strands assuages her worked-up body.

Shaking her head to the side implying she's going to be fine, however, this doesn't make the little one release her clutch on her mother. She continues to bury the side of her head on her, peacefully settling it on her mother's chest. "No, it's fine, I can continue with the story." Clearing her throat, she proceeds with her storytelling.

Yes, your father finally proposed to me inside St Peter's Basilica. That moment was orgastic for me, I felt like I was on top of the world, in heaven, I was ecstatic by him getting down on one knee. I didn't even let him say the four magical words, I immediately said yes and engulfed my arms around his neck.

Sometimes in the future, we made...you once we got married, of course, because we didn't desire you to become a bastard child. Then having you was my first happiest day ever, you were so puny and adorable, I thought for a second you were a tiny bisque doll. You were...like an angel from Heaven. You were God's gift to us...

"That's why you call me your little angel." The girl concludes, pulling away from her mother's chest. "Yes, and that's why I call you my bisque doll as well." Her mother informs her, and her index finger lightly brushes against her daughter's cutesy nose.

The little one merely wipes her nose off, sensing an itchy sensation on it. Playful sounds erupt within her body. The triumphant permeating throughout Y/n's figure, simply makes her radiate with jaunty. "Woahhh... so this whole time, we're nobles!" The girl summarizes the entire story. Her head tilts slightly to the left, permitting her hair to move with her. The intimation of curiosity seeps into her tone.

Her mother nods her head, grinning at her excited little one. "Wait, so why don't we live in our own mansion?" The protagonist asks once more.

We can if we want to, but I want to travel a bit before going back to our place...I currently let your uncle, of course on our side to stay and help around the house. Since your father's family didn't like him marrying our kind... Anyways, we have business here for now.

The girl nods her head this time before snuggling her body and face within her mother's side, distinguishing the saccharine fragrance tickling her nose again. "Hey, mommy." She questions once again.

"Yes, bisque?"

"Do you know what E is?"