51 - Threatened by the Blob

I held onto -- Ilesias -- even as a slave slid a chair behind me so I could sink into it, the three little pages arranging the train of his presentation gown artfully around my knees.“Oh I like that pose,” Father said. “But I still like the look of you standing. Haiksilias will cope with it and can complain all he wants.” I still didn’t understand what He was talking about. Why had Father