It was a normal sunny day on the Bean farm, the dirt road devoid of activity as usual. Her father was out in the fields, another normal occurrence. Unbeknown to Ivy, though, she was about to be visited by a strange new person.
The seven year old had first become aware of the strangeness of the day when a dirt cloud came into sight, led by a carriage, the likes of which Ivy had never seen. It was much fancier than the carriage her own father had, full of color and a well-dressed driver.
The second sign of strangeness was when, for a reason that was inexplicable to the young girl, the wheel on said carriage broke off. It was strange to Ivy because a carriage as nice as that one was supposed to be well taken care of, so things like that wouldn’t happen. And the final sign of strangeness was when the people inside the carriage were brought to her home, as the footman and driver set about fixing the carriage.
There was a young boy, a little older than her, with blond hair and the brightest, bluest eyes she’d ever seen. The only other person was his governess, and she eyed the small cottage with much disdain. However, the young boy was interested; he’d never been in a home this small before.
When Ivy swung the door open, the seven year old stared up at the governess with a scowl on her face.
“This is Prince Lionel Bellerose, and you will address him as such, and I am his governess. We require a place to stay and rest while our carriage is fixed.”
The small redhead huffed, offering her father’s chair to the governess and her own small chair to the little prince. The blond was still staring around her home curiously, and his governess was more preoccupied with the knitting that she had procured from nowhere than with her charge.
“Pssssst. Hey, you wanna go ‘splore?” His blue eyes darted from his governess to the younger girl in front of him, Lionel’s face conflicted. “You don’t hafta. You can just stay here and wait. Tha’s boring though.”
She started to turn and walk out the front door, only to be stopped by a small hand on her shoulder. Two mischievous grins quickly left the house, and Ivy was dragging the little boy to her forest.
“Lionel Bellerose. Do you really live here?”
“Yeah. Where else would I live? Ain’t no other houses ‘round here.” He shrugged, following her into the woods.
“I’ve never seen a home that small. Where do you sleep?”
“In my room, ‘course. You talk too much. You’ll scare all th’birds away!”
“Birds?” She gestured for him to follow her further, the ginger clearly knowing her way to where they were going. “What birds?”
