Lavender's Blue

"No, sweetheart. Now, I've told you before, we must be very quiet, musn't we?"

Perry's voice floats out of the cracked-open door of the seventy-third best-bedroom and winds cheerfully down the hallway, followed by a squeal of laughter and rather a lot of excited babbling. If one were to look inside, they would see the King of Ambergeldar and the Princess his daughter--the one on his back on the bed, the other held at arms' length above him, wiggling ecstatically and letting out peals of delighted giggles. "Shh!" he tells her, and pulls her for a moment close enough to let her forehead touch his.

"Daddy will get in trouble, and we don't want that, do we, darling?"

It's far too cold to be outside.

Which is why Perry is not. Instead, he's sitting at a table, whittling at something, and whistling cheerfully.

With tea.

Of course.

Test test test.