“So,” he knew not how to start, but Lawrence stretched and rolled his shoulder at the table they sat. It was quite small, uncomfortable, even. It came to no surprise, as it was a table for children and they were, in fact, in a child’s tea party.
“Are you still mad at me?” He paused, thinking of his words carefully and concisely, “about, well, everything? Our fight? Surely you mist be angry now, having been gone for so long, I truly didn’t mean for this to be the way it is.”
The young man who sat across form him merely took a moment with his tea. Their young charming server, a girl of no more than eleven, was in her play kitchen humming to herself, blissfully unaware of the conversation at hand. She was content in her own world, that she could have guests over to her most fashionable party.
“No,” Edel replied, his words calm and soft. He himself seemed to be chasing quite a few words, “Relieved. Relieved that I can still be mad at you, but I-“
He stuttered when he was sincere, Lawrence knew.
“I-I am glad you’re not dead.”
Lawrence didn’t mean to laugh.
“That’s one way of putting it,” he lifted his teacup, pinky out- of course.
“If you were dead,” Edel continued, “I… I could not live with myself for all the words I wanted to tell you, but couldn’t. You leave threads hanging, haunting me to my very days.”
“So you mean it then?” Lawrence spoke softly, but there was a bit of tease in his voice, “you’d rekindle our friendship from the ground up?”
“Only if you’re sincere.”
“There is no one else I could have this conversation with.”
Edel looked up from his cup, he was not one for eye contact, and thus caught Lawrence by surprise. Perhaps they were both unprepared with speaking so candidly. After all, Lawrence would soon be back to being a crow, his body possessed by a soul not his own.
“I see,”
“Edel,” his voice was gentle, certainly tempered from his agonies as I’d late, “assuming I have the chance, please guide me back.”
It was both small and enormous of an ask. He exhaled, his breathe long and harsh.
“And not tell your sister.” “Not a soul,” he clinked his plate to his cup, “not a soul, understood? If mother found out-“
“Elanore,” Edel cut him off, “Elanore will know.” “She can’t.” “She will,” he insisted. Lawrence Knew too, it was not a decision either of them had a choice in. Elanore, their childhood friend, would find out one way or another. It was in her blood, it was her calling to snoop out the facts.
“Please handle her,” Lawrence lowered his head as if pleading for salvation, “you understand, don’t you? I need to fix this myself.”
“Very well,” if Lawrence was not mistaken, there was a hunt if a small smile on Edel’s face as he spoke, “I will try. But if your mother catches wind somehow, I do not believe there is any saving us.”
“Right,” that was his problem alone, “I know. Will you- also keep an eye on my sister?”
“Lawrence-“ he huffed. Such indignation. “She can take care of herself, I know, but-“ “What of you take me for? A socialite? I will see what can be done, but your sister is busy attending a princess’s duties. I- you know I barely even leave my room-“
“Have I told you you’re wonderful?” “No, feel free to remind me.” “Leave your window open at night, I will sing my best croons. I will visit and being you trinkets. That’s how they tell you they care-“ “… the crows?”
Lawrence beamed, “The crows! And I am their prince.”