She is a quiet girl.
After deciding for her to be my playmate, I went up to my room and ordered all the maids out of it. Now that I'm seated on my bed and looking at this child, she seems even more pitiful and forlorn than I was when I was living with Bianca.
Her little black eyes and sunken into her head and the small portion of dark hair I can spy under her white cap is desperately in need of a thorough brush through.
"What's your name again?" I finally ask, unable to bear the silence.
"Emma, your highness," she said with a curtsey.
Then the two of us just stared at each other until Emma looked away first. I'm at a bit of a loss. It is hard enough being a child, but now I must somehow find out how to befriend another kid. I can feel a headache coming and I rub at my temples.
