"Zeiss? Zeiss? Hello, Zeiss?!" Zeiss's mind returned to the small girl who was... Was she glaring at him? Indeed, she was, her arms firmly folded across her chest. No woman had ever glared at him before; they all seemed eager to entice him. But this child was different. She was not yet a woman, though.
"El, are you glaring at me?" he inquired, feigning incredulity while secretly amused.
"Of course!" she huffed. "I was talking to you, but you weren't listening. I love talking, and I love when people listen." She grumbled, prompting a laugh from him. "Why are you laughing? What's funny?" Her glare faltered, and Zeiss managed to stifle his laughter.
"Okay, I apologize for not listening to you. But I heard everything you said." He crouched down to her level, and her glare softened.
"You did?" she asked, eyes glimmering with mischief as she narrowed them playfully. "What did I say, then?"
"You said Gianna turned into a bat and reached the top of the shelves to return the book. Then you both fed Nita, who was making a mess, and afterward, you were exhausted and wanted to nap."
Eleven's amethyst eyes widened before she broke into a grin, revealing her perfectly white teeth as she giggled. "You really listened! I also said I want to make Gianna my best friend too, and you shouldn't get mad." She clasped her hands behind her back and swayed side to side.
"Gianna and I can be your best friends. I don't mind," he replied. Before she could speak again, he rose to his full height and took her small hand in his own. "Let us have dinner," he declared as he led her toward her room door.
"Dinner? But it's still evening."
"And you're still a child," he retorted, glancing down at her before returning his gaze to the passageway as they descended the stairs. "It is six o'clock; it's hardly early for dinner." He paused to inquire, "What time did you have dinner back at your home?" Silence enveloped them after his question. He glanced sideways to ensure the silver-haired goddess remained by his side; she did, though her eyes seemed distant and closed off. He stopped and crouched down again, though he still towered over her. "Does talking about your parents hurt you?" he asked softly.
Eleven nodded slowly, tears threatening to spill from her eyes, reddening their rims. Yet she did not cry—a trait Zeiss admired in her. "Yes," she squeaked out. "They died because of me." He raised his hands gently to caress her soft, silky hair.
"Says who? You never killed your parents; do not take the blame for another's actions," he reassured her. Eleven nodded in response. "We can bury them and visit their grave together and bring flowers if you'd like." He noted the small smile that lifted her lips at this suggestion.
"I love that! We'll visit them every time?"
"Indeed. Every time," he affirmed. "Now don't cry; let us go eat." He rose once more, prompting her neck to follow his ascent.
"I wasn't going to cry. I hardly cry."
"That's my Eleven." Dinner was a gathering of Zeiss—the master of the house—Lincoln—the master's loyal right-hand man—and Gianna, whom Eleven had practically begged to join them for the meal. Gianna had claimed it was not up to her but rather Zeiss's decision; thus Eleven had proceeded to plead with him until he agreed.
Throughout dinner, Eleven animatedly conversed with Gianna, who responded with genuine interest. No one complained about their lively exchange; both men could see that they were quite taken with the girl. Who wouldn't be? She was practically a goddess with soft cheeks that begged for poking and pinching.
"Gianna, I want to work like you and the other maids," Eleven declared after finishing her meal. Zeiss narrowed his eyes at her while Lincoln regarded her with an expression that seemed to question her age based on her petite physique. Gianna blinked at Eleven in disbelief.
"Uh..."
"No. You're still very young, El," Zeiss interjected firmly as Eleven shifted her gaze from Gianna back to him.
"I'm not!" she argued defiantly. "I'm eight years old and can sweep the house very well! I always swept our home."
Lincoln appeared as though he had achieved some long-sought revelation; a secret sparkle lit his eyes. Meanwhile, Zeiss continued narrowing his gaze while Gianna alternated between watching both him and Eleven as they teetered on the brink of an argument.
"Still no," Zeiss dismissed casually as Eleven's eyes widened in protest.
"Why no?! Il said I could sweep! I can wash the plates too! I don't want to eat your food without doing any work!" Gianna snorted with laughter at this proclamation while Zeiss merely twitched his lips in amusement. Lincoln seemed indifferent to their discussion as though his sole purpose in life was merely to convey the message he had just found out.
"El sweetie, do you like working?" Gianna asked gently, drawing Eleven's gaze back to hers.
"Yes! Mama said it was good to work so I could find a good husband—and cook too." Gianna couldn't contain her laughter at this revelation while Eleven shot her an indignant glare that only added to her charm.
"Please, Zeiss," she turned towards him—her more reasonable opponent since Gianna laughed at everything she said—"I will not injure myself or break your plates! Gianna will be with me!"
Zeiss sighed inwardly; he knew he would ultimately relent. "Very well. You may work with Gianna—but only on very light tasks," he declared firmly but kindly. Gianna nodded enthusiastically while Eleven squealed in delight.
"Yes! Thank you, Zeiss!"