Aneria was finally three years old, small and soft like a snow-doll with her fluffy white hair tied into a crooked ponytail. Her deep night-blue eyes sparkled with determination as she tiptoed across the corridor holding a tiny leather notebook that was definitely too big for her hands.
Today's mission: write down everything she remembered from the original novel…
…in her very terrible, very baby handwriting.
She pushed open the garden door quietly—so quietly she felt like a spy from a movie.
"Okay… no one see me…" she whispered with her tiny voice.
She waddled to her favorite spot behind the rose bushes, sat on the grass, opened the notebook, and began writing fiercely.
Her handwriting looked like:
"Iin… sad… no… die… me… help…"
"Sain… come… 18…"
"tower… boom…"
Anyone else would think a chicken had walked across the page, but Aneria proudly nodded.
"Pwrefect," she said.
A little spark of magic flickered from her fingers and she quickly hid her hand inside her dress.
"No magic… no magic…" she scolded herself. She had spent three years secretly practicing at night—learning to crawl, walk, talk, and control her power so no one would discover her. Magic was rare in this world, and she had to hide it until the right time.
She leaned closer to her book, tongue sticking out in concentration, when—
"ANERIAAAAAA!! MY BABY PEACH!!!"
A loud voice exploded behind her.
Aneria flinched so hard her notebook flew into a bush.
The Count came running like a dramatic bird, arms spread wide.
"There you are! I searched the WHOLE mansion! Why are you hiding in bushes?!"
Aneria slapped her hands over her notebook. "Nothin'!"
"You're writing?"
"No."
"What's that behind you?"
"A rock."
"Aneria… rocks don't have pages."
Before she could lie again, Countess Melissa appeared with her usual calm expression.
"Rohan, stop interrogating the child. She probably came here to play."
But poor Nanny Nina came sprinting, gasping for air. "Miss Aneria! You cannot vanish like that, my heart—my poor heart—"
Aneria hugged her notebook protectively. "Pwivate."
Count Rohan gasped loudly. "SHE HAS SECRETS?! AT AGE THREE?!"
Melissa tapped his head. "She's a growing girl. Let her be."
Rohan pouted but finally set Aneria down. The moment he did, she ran to grab her notebook from the bush, hugging it tightly.
Melissa noticed the grass stains on Aneria's knees and brushed them gently.
"What were you doing out here, sweetheart?"
Aneria smiled innocently. "Dwawing."
They all relaxed at that answer.
Only Aneria knew the truth.
She looked at her messy writing again:
"Ian… no sad… I keep u safe…"
She pressed the book to her chest and whispered,
"I pwromise… I fix yu story."
In the sunlight, a tiny spark of magic glowed at her fingertips—then faded before anyone could see.
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