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And across the bridge of my nose? A constellation of freckles. “They will fade when you are older,” Mother had said. “I hope not,” Father had called from across the room, bent over an illustration. “‘Twould be a pity for Emma to lose that bit of magic, now wouldn’t it?”
The word choice was particular. Could is a challenge. Would is a favour.
I ought to cry as discreetly as possible. I’ve settled for raging.
He thinks he has seen me at my worst? Ha! Fear, Archibald Flat! For Emma M. Lion is an avenging angel more terrible than you can imagine!
While there are many things beyond our control, I’ve always thought the cruellest is that we mortals are not told when our last glance is just that.
My gallant knight, off to fight the dragon so as to ensure he wouldn’t end up on the street.
