When Mallory had been asked by Queen Ilyse and Prince Audric to come tutor their young daughter, he had been honored and delighted. Several months later, the shiny had been rubbed off both the honor and delight, but he had become fond of enough Karla to continue to teach her for years, up until the tragic accident that had claimed her parents'
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(Don't worry, your clothes change with you, but may be a little worse for wear!)
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Which had been weird, even for Warren at age seven. His father had never really been the particularly tender sort, especially after his wings had come in, but for the past couple of days he'd been really, really... something. Nice? Fond, maybe.
When his father yelped and jumped in reaction to a small Warren suddenly being a much larger Warren, the appropriate reaction was, from there, to flail and yelp in turn, right?
Or was that just the reaction that was most likely to lead to a tangle of wings and other assorted limbs being dumped from an armchair that was too small for two adults down to the floor?
... Probably that second one.
"Ow."
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Warren napping in his arms had both awakened and fulfilled an obscure pang in his chest. Thwarted fatherhood, perhaps.
"Are you okay, my boy?" he asked, standing up and holding out his hand for Warren to take to pull himself up off the floor. "Well, I mean, of course you're okay, your healing factor has already taken care of any contusions, but...what I meants was..."
Oh good. Babbling. Just the skill every businessman wanted to cultivate.
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And by the time he realized as much, he was already halfway to his feet. Which meant there was little to do but just finish standing, and then shrug his shoulders casually, like he'd totally meant to do that.
"I know what you meant, Dad. And I'm fine. My dignity could use a band-aid, but I'll get over it."
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A much-needed bath, a meal that involved vegetables, and a headache brew later (how could any small human ingest that much sugar?!?), Karla was officially crowned. Unlike the giant spectacle that had been planned, it was a very short and simple ceremony. The thirteen Province Queens were there, but rather than the ranking Priestess in Sidra (who was busy presiding over an aristo wedding ceremony), the formal swearing was done by the young White-Jeweled Priestess who cared for the altar attached to the estate. And instead of the cream of Glacian society, the only people to bear witness to the event were Karla's Court and her friends, along with several of the upper servants.
The entire ceremony took fifteen minutes. In short, it was pretty much the kind of coronation Karla would have asked for if she could.
[For observers, ( ... )
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If he couldn't tease Karla after a weekend spent washing honey off of her and trying to get her to eat her vegetables, he never could.
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"Of course not," Karla sniffed. "We still have some of the finger paints Emma found the other day. We're using those."
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For you, Karla. He would do this for you.
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