Early in the morning, a distinct knocking sound reverberated outside the closed door of a room. Without receiving any response, a man cautiously entered the room and proceeded directly to the window. With a gentle touch, he pulled the curtains apart, allowing the warm rays of the sun to flood the space. The illumination bestowed a radiant glow upon his fair complexion, causing him to smile softly.
Shifting his attention to the bed, he spoke in a measured tone, "It's time to rise, my child. We need to have a serious conversation," addressing the young occupant lying beneath the covers.
From under the blanket, the child's voice emerged, muffled yet audible, "Just give me five more minutes, please," as he sought solace in the cocoon of warmth.
The man sighed, but his smile persisted. Surprisingly, he raised his voice and declared, "No more postponing! Get ready this instant and join us for breakfast. We have important matters to discuss."
Startled, the child opened his eyes and responded in a hushed voice that filled the room, "I understand."
As the sound of the man's receding footsteps drifted away, the child swiftly threw off the covers, propelled by a newfound sense of urgency. He hurried to the wash area, swiftly attending to his morning routine, getting dressed, and exiting the room in a flurry.
Child's POV -
Summoned unexpectedly by my father, I scrambled to dress myself and set out on my journey. In the quiet solitude, I made silly faces and whispered to myself, "They won't punish me for that prank I pulled two days ago, will they? I hope not."
But the response I received was silence, an ominous void.
A sigh escaped my lips, and I hastened my steps, eager to face whatever awaited me.
Continuing my internal monologue, I murmured, "Allow me to reintroduce myself. My name is Ray Denmark, and today marks my tenth birthday," offering a slight bow in jest. "Perhaps, if I do this, they will forgive me. Maybe."
Once again, my words were met with silence, a resounding absence of affirmation.
They say important things are worth repeating.
I fervently hoped they wouldn't punish me.
Reflecting on the past, I realized that even when I played pranks, their retribution had been lenient, be it for breaking a vase or startling the maid with a harmless lizard. I desperately wanted to believe that those were innocent jests.
Who are "they"? They are none other than my parents.
My father, Jamie Denmark, the esteemed Marquis of our county, a master of the sword, and a man of great capabilities.
And my mother, Sylvia Denmark, a stunning beauty whose love and warmth enveloped my life.
Knocking gently on the door, I heard the familiar response, "Come in." Stepping into the room, I was taken aback by what unfolded before my eyes.
Author's note:
(1) - Any DC fans in the house?
Children possess a peculiar charm that blends innocence and eccentricity. As long as you can coax them into action, they're endearing. But if they resist, well, let's just say they don't top my list of favorites. XD
As we move forward, I hope to capture the essence of a child's personality—pure, whimsical, and occasionally exasperating.