🌹” It could very well have been. My father always thought so but he was always looking for a way to blame those of magic. His other theory was elves but that one…..i don’t know.“ She stated shrugging with sadness.
“The older ive gotten the more it dose seem possible one of the parties had some say in it. Or it was an accident , they say this realm had nothing for our coming after all……so an explosion ripping the fabric makes sense.” Maria sipped her tea once more thinking on it but she was no historian or philosopher.
“Who or what it sounds like they gave you a second chance. Or at lease its something to take away.” Fyo gurgling all the while to his mothers words.
Maria had to laugh at that one.“ She every well might be for a meeting. Regal as she is things can still be simple. As for entrance there is a large bridge in town you take up to the castle. From there you can ask.” She took the scroll to give it a look over to find the best way to aid him.🌹
"I believe that we both need our sleep now,” said Ezekiel as he placed his teacup on the small table in front of Maria’s sofa. It had become late and the two of them had filled the evening with interesting conversations from magic, to the nature of monsters, to human politics. She was a fascinating woman, could make you laugh as well as make you think.
As tiredness hung over them like a veil, the old vampire politely said goodbye to the seamstress with a well-mannered kiss on the hand and a little bow and lay down on his bed for the night, which consisted of a few blankets and a pillow in front of Fyo’s bed. But that was well enough for Ezekiel. He turned on his side and watched Fyo until finally he too fell asleep.
“Can we take the little one with us?" Ezekiel pointed with his index finger at Fyo, whose hair was still completely disheveled from the night and who was now gnawing at a breakfast biscuit.
Ezekiel had taken some of his best robes with him so that he would not look like an moose in a burlap sack at the duchess’s court. His robe was long and reached to the middle of his shin. Fyo crawled towards him, the cookie still in one hand, the other clutching the fabric of Ezekiel’s clothes. Just as the vampire was about to take a step forward, the cloth tore at the spot and Fyo held the shred in her hand and giggled.
"How good that your mama is a seamstress,” Ezekiel grinned at the little one and looked at Maria, “Would you be so kind, please?"
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