Cross-legged beneath the base of an old tree, its roots gnarled and buried deep under the rich soil, Celine huffs. She flops onto her back with Cecile balanced precariously onto her stomach and announces. “I’m bored.”
Nina, who was making her own doll, Camilla, prance around the flush grass, looks up. “What should we do?”
“I don’t know,” Celine puffs her cheeks and exhales through pursed lips, “I’m tired of playing house. I’m tired of finding shapes in the clouds. I’m tired of playing tag and I’m tired of being bored.”
“Can we play with Miss Melody?” Nina asks. She sets her doll down on the grass, face up so it can look at the sky, which is filtered through the numerous leaves gracing the tree’s branches.
Celine shakes her head. “It’s her day off. She left the castle to spend time with her family.”
Nina pouts. “What a bummer. Maybe… we can see what Mami and Reina Ingrid are up to?”
Celine perks up. She lifts herself back into a sitting position and beams at Nina, teeth ivory-white. “That’s a great idea! But I need to change into pull-ups first. Mama likes it when I wear them.”
Nina tilts her head to the side. “Por qué?”
“It’s the noise,” Celine explains. She hops onto her feet and smooths her dress. “It makes a little crinkle. I’ll show it to you.”
“Okay,” Nina says. Her eyes rove over Celine, inspecting her friend. They stop below her back. “You have some stuff on your butt.”
Celine quickly swipes that region. She peers over her shoulder, trying to peek at the area, but it’s to no avail. Her neck doesn’t bend enough for that.
“Ven aqui,” Nina says. Celine obeys and Nina carefully plucks away the twigs and leaves that had attached themselves to Celine’s dress. The pink silk is smooth against Nina’s fingertips.
For a moment, she wants to press her hands flat against Celine to caress the fabric. But then she’d be touching Celine’s butt and that’s bad. Nina doesn’t understand why it’s bad, but Mami said to never let anyone touch her butt, so that means she can’t touch other people’s butts either.
“Is it all gone now?” Celine asks, watching the leaves Nina picked off flutter away. The wind scoops them in its grasp and ferries them to another part of the massive garden.
“Sí,” Nina replies. She rises to her feet, albeit shakily. Her legs had gone numb from sitting on them for so long, and now pins and needles attack her poor little limbs. “Let’s go now?”
“Sí,” Celine says. Her Spanish is always accented, but it’s better than it was a year ago. Every day she improves. One day, she’ll be as fluent as Nina.
Celine extends her hand. Nina readily accepts it and intertwines their fingers. They scamper back to the castle, grunting slightly as they push open the large, hefty doors. The maids who are still on duty greet them. Celine does her best to reciprocate, but her heart is pounding with excitement.
Maybe Mama will even ask her to do the wiggle dance. Celine loves the wiggle dance.
Finally, the little girls make it to Celine’s room. Having learned their lesson from the Petting Kitty incident, they close the door. Celine hurries to her drawers and rummages for a pair of pull-ups. Selecting the nearest one, she quickly sheds her bloomers, tossing them to the side, and wiggles into her pull-ups
Nina wishes she could see Celine’s kitty. It was so pretty but Celine’s poofy dress covers everything even though Celine lifts it up slightly to worm her way into her pull-ups.
“Look at the pattern,” Celine crows, lifting her dress further. Her little legs poke from the holes of the pull-ups and she flaunts the design. “It has a unicorn on the very front.”
Nina ooh’s and aah’s accordingly. “I like it. It’s cute.”
She doesn’t understand the appeal of pull-ups, but she’s aware of how important they are for Celine, who was severely brutalized by that evil Prince Acheron. Still, Nina can’t help but find it a little odd that Reina Ingrid enjoys the sound of the pull-ups.
Celine trots forward, towards Nina. Her pull-ups crinkle, creating a unique noise that’s vaguely pleasant to the ears. Nina doesn’t know how to describe it,
Celine links their fingers again. Their free hand holds their respective dolls and they scamper to Ingrid’s bedroom.
The noise from the pull-ups grows on Nina as they travel down the enormous hall, small feet pitter-pattering against the hardwood floor.
She can see why Reina Ingrid likes it so much, but Nina thinks that there are other parts of Celine that are so much more enjoyable. Like her pink petal-like lips, which shine from the lip balm Melody insists she wears to prevent her lips from growing chapped. And her smooth strawberry-blonde hair, which Nina enjoys brushing before bedtime during sleepovers. And —
Celine shoves the door wide open.
“Mama!” she cheers as she runs up to the edge of the bed.
Ingrid and Selena are sitting on the bed. Their backs are to the headboard, propped up by a stack of fluffy pillows. Ingrid rests her head against Selena’s shoulder and gently strokes Selena’s forearm with her fingertips.
Tender close-lipped smiles are crossed across their faces and through their lashes, they peer at each other. Nina hasn’t seen her mother make that expression since Papi was still around, though the memory is blurry since Papi died three years ago when she was four.
At the intrusion, both women straighten themselves out. The smiles on their faces shift into something more maternal as their darling daughters join them in the room.
“What brings you and Nina here, sunflower?” Ingrid asks, scooting down to the edge of the bed to embrace her daughter, who barrels into her.
“We’re bored,” Celine answers, nuzzling into her mother’s soft chest. “We wanted to see if you and Señora Flores wanted to play with us,” her lips twist into a pout. “Mel is back home and we got tired of playing house and pirates and — “
“We’d be delighted for you to join us,” Ingrid says, preventing Celine from listing every activity under the sun. “But first, how about we put Cecile and Camilla on the shelf so they don’t get dirty?”
She rises to her feet and accepts Celine’s doll.
Nina trots over and hands her doll over to Ingrid as well. Her eyes are as wide as dinner plates. “What are we going to do that would get us dirty?”
Selena answers this time. “Ven aquí, mi luz. Ingrid and I were talking and we wondered if you two would like to have a snack, just like when you two were much younger.”
“Applesauce?” Nina guesses as she climbs onto the bed with a small ‘oof.’ She crawls across the silk bed sheets and settles on Mami's lap.
“No, mija,” Selena chuckles. “Milk.”
Nina and Celine peer around the room, but there’s no gallon of milk or even a cow. Just Cecile and Camilla on the shelf, watching over them.
“Milk from us,” Ingrid clarifies. “You both are growing up so fast, so we also want to play House even though we’re adults. We miss having you as babies.
She returns to sitting on the bed, but Celine has yet to climb onto her lap. Instead, she’s bouncing on the balls of her feet, staring at her Mama expectantly. “Should I do the wiggle dance after then?”
Ingrid shakes her head. “No, you’ll be too full then. Now is perfect, sunflower. I’ve told Selena about how much of a good dancer you are. She’d love to see it, and I’m sure Nina would as well.”
It’s the first time Nina has even heard of the wiggle dance, but she doesn’t know how much attention she’ll be able to pay Celine when her Mami is caressing her hair so tenderly. “What’s the wiggle dance?”
“It’s when I wiggle,” Celine shakes her hips, shifting her weight between her legs. “And it makes this noise! Mama likes it a lot.”
As Celine speeds up, the crinkle noise comes faster and faster. Nina is hypnotized by the sway of Celine’s beautiful pink dress and the flush that crawls across Celine’s face as she continues to dance. From the way Mami stopped stroking her hair, Nina can tell that Selena is too.
“I do,” Ingrid admits. Her eyes are fixated on Celine’s boisterous form as she bounces and bobs to an invisible rhythm, focused on making more and more of that noise.
Eventually, Celine tires. A light sheen of sweat coats her forehead. When she begins to pant, Ingrid cuts in. “That’s enough, sunflower. Are you ready for your reward?”
“Yes!” Celine beams. She leaps onto the bed, breathing heavily. Ingrid smoothens the hair plastered to Celine’s forehead.
Celine tries to climb onto Ingrid’s lap, but Ingrid gently places a hand on Celine’s shoulder, preventing her from coming closer. Celine deflates, but Ingrid gently shushes her. “Babies can’t sit up and we’re playing House. Just place your head on my lap, sweetie. Mama will take care of the rest.
“Okay,” Celine says as she obeys. Curling into position, she takes a glance at Nina, whose head is already on Selena’s lap. However, Selena’s legs are parted, allowing Celine to peek up her skirt.
Selena isn’t wearing panties, but her kitty is covered up by a thatch of dark, curly hair.
Celine’s curiosity is immediately aroused. “Mama, why is Señora Flores’ kitty furry?”
Selena’s eyes widen. She immediately clamps her thighs together, rousing Nina from her comfort. “Mami, your kitty is furry?”
Ingrid releases a gentle chuckle. She cards her fingers through Celine’s strawberry-blonde hair. “It’s part of growing up. When you get older, in the same way, you grow breasts, you also develop hair around your kitty.”
“Is it itchy?” Celine asks. Distantly, she can hear Nina and Selena having their own conversation, but her focus isn’t on them. It’s on her Mama, who’s touching her so softly and sweetly while bestowing sacred knowledge.
“Not at all. Do you want a peek, sunflower?”
Celine nods vigorously, hair flailing at the motion. “Yes!”
Ingrid smooths Celine’s hair. Ingrid parts her legs and guides Celine to the space between, then raises her dress. The silk fabric shimmers beneath the sunlight pouring through the open window, and as it glides up her smooth legs, Celine’s heart can’t help but jackrabbit.
She can’t remember the last time she was this close to her Mama. She can’t remember the last time she saw her Mama’s kitty. She berates herself for not remembering. Mama is all she has left of her family. She should be able to recall every memory.
However, Celine loses her train of thought once Ingrid fully raises her dress. It pools around her hips and Celine is in awe. Ingrid isn’t wearing any panties and her kitty is much larger. It’s part of being a grown-up, after all, but the mass of curly strawberry-blonde hair is darker than the hair on Ingrid’s head. Shinier too. It reminds Celine of the sunlight that’s scattered across the large bed all four of them are laying on.
Seconds pass. Celine’s heart barely beats, too enraptured in seeing the part of Ingrid from which she came.
“You can touch it too if you want, sunflower.”
Celine shakes her head. “Melody said Nina and I couldn’t play petting kitty until we’re older.”
“I’m your Mama and I say it’s okay. But you can only play it with me, okay?”
Celine peers up at Ingrid through her thick lashers, eyes wide with childish abandon. “Are you sure it’s okay, Mama?”
“Positive.”
Tongue sticking out in concentration, Celine carefully runs her small fingers through the thatch of curls. The hair is coarse, but it isn't bad against her skin. It’s interesting and Celine needs to know how far that fair extends.
Her fingers trail down Ingrid’s slit, making Ingrid release a shaky moan.
Celine immediately freezes. “Mama, are you okay?”
Ingrid nods. “Yes, sweetie. Keep going. It feels nice.”
“I want you to feel nice,” Celine announces. She recalls the last time she played petting kitty. The part that made Nina and her feel the best initially was the nose of the kitty, so Celine parts Ingrid’s folds.
“You’re so pretty, Mama. Like a flower,” Celine says, awed, as her eyes travel upwards. The pink nub stares back at her. “I found it, the nose of the kitty!”
“That’s great, sunflower. Do you think you can — oh!”
Celine interrupts Ingrid by gently rubbing it. It’s bigger than hers and Nina’s, but it means that there’s more to touch. As expected, Ingrid’s kitty grows shiny with fluid.
“Kitty juice!” Celine crows. She rubs Ingrid’s clitoris faster in her excitement. “Please, Mama. Can I taste it?”
“You can do whatever you want, sweetie. You can even li-lick it,” Ingrid chokes as Celine descends upon her. Celine drags her tongue through Ingrid’s folds, digging her tongue as deep as she can to taste as much kitty juice as she can.
All the while, her small fingers continue to rub Ingrid’s clitoris. Ingrid’s hips buck upwards as she loses herself in a haze of shameless moans. “You can also switch, honey. Put your fingers in my kitty and lick its nose.”
“Okay, Mama,” Celine says between breaths. Pulling back, she licks her lips, removing any residual kitty juice, and stares at Ingrid.
She has never seen her Mama so undone. Ingrid’s cheeks are flushed and her lips are shiny from saliva. Her mouth is parted in a pretty ‘o’ and Celine’s own kitty throbs. She wants to be touched too but she can’t until she’s older.
From the corner of her eye, Celine can see Nina, head still resting on Selena’s lap, squirming. Her thighs are pressed together as she rubs them. Selena’s hand is coiled around Nina’s thick, black hair, absently petting her daughter, but Selena’s eyes are focused on Celine and Ingrid.
Being watched makes the baby hairs on the back of Celine’s neck rise, but it also makes her kitty throb harder. Celine surveys her mother, who has been thoroughly debauched, once more before diving in.
She wraps her lips around her Mama’s clitoris and sucks it, tongue flicking over the nub periodically as her small fingers roam inside Ingrid’s kitty, seeking that sweet special spot. She worries that her fingers are too stubby to reach that place, but after rotating her wrist and twisting her fingers, Ingrid releases a unique cry, indicating that Celine found it.
“Try spelling out the alphabet with your tongue, baby,” Ingrid pants. She’s clawing the bed sheet. The manicured nails of her slender fingers grip the silk and threaten to pierce them with holes. Her knuckles are bone-white from her grip. “So you can find out what letter Mama likes best.”
Celine bobs her head and methodically goes through each of the twenty-six letters in order.
A…
B…
C…
D is where she strikes gold, alongside Q and K. Ingrid’s moans reach a new peak as Celine rotates through those three letters and continues to pump her fingers into her Mama’s kitty, which only grows wetter and wetter.
Celine’s jaw and wrist begin to ache, but it only fuels her. No, she can’t be tired. Not until Mama’s moans reach the peak of a crescendo. Not until Mama squirts out kitty juice. Not until Mama tells her enough is enough.
But soon enough, it happens. A stream of clear fluid gushes from Ingrid’s kitty, but it doesn’t create a gorgeous arc. No, it pierces Celine’s mouth as she’s greedily licking Ingrid’s kitty.
Celine wants to spit it out. She’s drinking kitty pee, for goodness’ sake. Pee is gross! But this is special pee, kitty pee, and it doesn’t taste like how pee would. It’s sweet. So Celine guzzles it down, not wanting to waste whatever comes out of her Mama.
When the kitty juice ceases, Celine returns to pleasuring her Mama, craving more kitty juice and kitty pee, but Ingrid places a hand on Celine’s forehead and gently pushes her away. “That’s enough, sunflower. You’ve done enough.”
“Did I do good, Mama?” Celine asks as she massages her sore jaw.
“Amazing,” Ingrid confirms. She wipes away the sheen of sweat on her forehead and lowers her dress. Celine is sad to see her kitty disappear beneath the silk, but she’s happier to properly receive her Mama’s attention. “Are you ready to play house, sweetie?
“Yes!” Celine cheers.
She curls up on Ingrid’s lap, facing the sky. Ingrid cradles her with one hand, as if Celine were a baby, and begins to unbutton the top of her dress. From the corner of her eye, Celine sees that Nina and Selena are doing the same.
Once enough buttons have been undone, Ingrid’s breasts slip out, but they’re covered by a lacy bra, which contains matching circular damp spots. After quick fussing, Ingrid’s large breasts bounce free.
Her nipples and areola are a delicate pink, the same color as Celine’s but larger. Everything about Ingrid is bigger, but that means there’s more of Ingrid to love.
Twin beads of milk have formed on the tip of each nipple, pearls that glisten in the light. Celine’s stomach growls and her throat is parched. Despite the kitty pee she drank, she’s still exhausted from pleasuring her Mama.
Celine licks her lips. Ingrid chuckles. “Open wide, sunflower.”
Celine obeys. Ingrid raises Celine’s head and Celine’s lips latch around a nipple. She hollows her cheeks as she greedily sucks, automatically overcome by primal instinct. Sweet milk fills her mouth and flourishes against her taste buds.
Ingrid releases a sigh of relief. “You don’t know how much I needed this, baby. You’re doing such a big favor for Mama.”
Celine presses her tongue against Ingrid’s nipple, demanding her tastebuds experience first contact. She wants to savor each drop. She wants to feel it infiltrate her mouth.
Not for the first time, Celine wishes she remembered being a baby. Being so small and held to her Mama, suckling from her breasts to alleviate the feeling of being sore from fullness. To simply be Ingrid’s little girl again, because she’s growing so fast, and soon she’ll be an adult.
Ten years seems like a long time, but her current eight years of life seem so short, so Celine wants to savor the time she has with Ingrid before she becomes a queen herself. She’ll be torn apart by responsibilities and —
“You stopped drinking, sweetie. Is everything okay?”
Celine releases Ingrid’s nipple with a ‘pop.’ Her voice is wobbly as she rubs her damp eyes with the heel of her palm. “I don’t ever want to grow up, Mama. I want to be your little girl forever.”
“You’ll always be my little girl, Celine,” Ingrid reassures. “We’ll get through life one step at a time. And the current step is to get all the milk out of my system. This is a job only you can do for me.”
“Not even Mr. Gardener?”
“Not even him,” Ingrid confirms.
That invigorates Celine. With renewed passion, Celine sucks and sucks and sucks — filling her belly with all the sweet milk imaginable. Her bladder begins to throb once Ingrid switches to the other nipple, so full from her Mama’s milk, but rather than holding it in, Celine lets it out.
A sharp hiss fills the matching suckling noises from her and Nina, but Celine doesn’t care. Can’t care, when she’s doing her Mama such an important favor and is supported by her pull-ups.
“Full, baby?” Ingrid croons, rubbing soothing circles across Celine’s back.
“Not yet,” Celine says. She licks her lips once more to get rid of a droplet of milk clinging to her lips.
“Good,” Ingrid says. “Because I still have a lot of milk to give.”
The pull-ups are warm, soaked with her pee as if she were wrapped in a toasty, damp towel. But like Ingrid said: one step at a time. So Celine continues to suckle her mother’s teat and bathe in the attention, eyes closed with pleasure.
Soaked in bliss, Celine barely notices that Ingrid has stopped producing milk. She’s so warm, so comfortable, and she’s murmuring sweet things to Celine — about how much she loves her little girl, about how lucky she is to have Celine as a daughter and more.
The hazy bliss is snapped from the bed bouncing. Celine blearily opens her eyes and watches Nina leap from her mother’s lap.
“I gotta pee,” Nina squeals, belly bursting with the milk she was also just fed. Legs pressed together awkwardly, she scuttles for the edge of the beg. But before she can make it, she freezes, releasing a loud squeak as the fabric over her crotch grows dark.
The dark spot grows and grows, extending down Nina’s legs before creating a puddle on the silk bed sheets, which slowly sinks into the cloth.
Nina clamps her small thighs together and cups her crotch, pressing into it as hard as she can as if it would stop the stream of pee escaping her. “No, no, no, no — “
But the sharp hiss persists despite her protests. When it ends, all that’s left is a deafening silence where Celine, Ingrid, and Selena are staring at her with wide eyes.
“Mija — “ Selena begins, but that’s the only initiative Nina needs to burst into sobs.
Fat tears roll down her chubby cheeks as she bawls. Her hands are still clutching her crotch and she turns away, shrinking over as if to collapse into herself. “Don’t look at me!”
“Mija, it’s okay,” Selena says. She crawls over to wrap her arm around Nina’s shaking shoulders, kneeling in the wet spot in the center of the bed. “These things happen. Accidents happen.”
“But I’m too old for accidents,” Nina wails.
Celine’s heart drops. She wore pull-ups every night when she was Nina’s age after Prince Acheron hurt her badly, so what does this mean aboutt her? What does it mean if she’s wearing pull-ups now and had her own accident?
“It’s okay, sweetie,” Ingrid says, making Celine bristle. Only she can be called sweetie. No one else. “Why don’t all of us take a shower together? We would use some freshening up.”
“I don’t want to shower with a baby,” Celine huffs. She rolls onto her side so that she doesn’t look at Nina. “She wet your bed, Mama.”
Ingrid releases a sharp gasp. “Celine — “
Nina interrupts her with a firm, but wobbly voice, turning her head to glare at Celine. “I may be a baby, but at least I don’t dress like one.”
Celine whimpers. It’s not her fault that she needs pull-ups. It’s Prince Acheron’s fault for hurting her. But is it really her fault if she just let it happen? She could have fought harder against him.
She breaks into her own sobs and curls into a fetal position, burying her face in her Mama’s belly. ”You’re a meanie, Nina. I don’t want to be your friend anymore. Ever.”
“You were mean first,” Nina warbles. “I don’t wanna be your friend either.”
Selena stares at Ingrid helplessly, making eye contact. She had never dealt with such a spat between such close friends, especially ones so young.
However, Ingrid, as a queen, is used to diplomacy and enforcing it when her subjects get unruly.
“Celine, Nina is right,” she scolds, making Celine bawl harder. “You were mean first, but Nina,” she says sharply, “you should not have continued it. You both are big girls now so it’s time to act like it. Apologize to each other. You first, Celine.”
“No,” Celine protests.
“Celine.”
“Okay,” Celine sniffles. She rolls onto her side and faces Nina, who’s still hiccuping, “Nina, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings. I was just upset.”
“And why were you upset?” Ingrid asks.
“Because Mama is the only family I have left so I don’t want to share her.”
Ingrid sighs. She pets Celine’s hair. “We’ll talk about this later, sunflower. Now it’s your turn, Nina.”
“I’m sorry for being mean, Celine,” Nina says, rubbing her eyes with the back of her hand as if to shove her tears back into their ducts. “I didn’t mean what I said. It’s okay that you still wear pull-ups. I get why.”
“Friends again?” Celine tries.
Nina nods. “Friends again.”
Ingrid nods, satisfied. “I would say reconciliation handshake, but — “
“I don’t care! Celine exclaims as she wobbles to her feet and hobbles to Nina, legs numb from laying down for so long. Celine opens her arms. “It’s just pee. Hug?”
“Hug,” Nina agrees as she launches herself into Celine’s arms, clinging to her tightly.
The two girls bury their faces in each other's necks. They cry out the rest of their feelings, hiccuping and murmuring apologies before their breathing settles down. They hold each other for a bit in silence before drawing back, smiling at each other with tear-stained cheeks.
“I’m ready to shower now, Mama,” Celine announces.
“Are you sure, sunflower? I don’t want you to get upset again.”
Celine shakes her head, strawberry-blonde hair flying. “It’s okay to share you with Nina. It’s Nina.”
“I’m okay with sharing Mami too,” Nina says.
“Then should we go?” Selena asks, rising from the bed. Nina follows at her heels like a duckling, leaving behind a wet spot as she accompanies Selena to the center of the room. “Mind if you lead us to the bathroom, Reina Ingrid?”
Her voice is lightly accented, but she’s lived away from her home country for long enough for it to mostly dissipate. Still, it slips through, but no one can begrudge her as it indicates her talent for being able to speak another language.
“Of course,” Ingrid says as she stands up. “My personal bathroom isn’t big enough for the four of us, so we need to use the one down the hall. Do you want to change into one of Celine’s dresses, Nina? The maids won’t judge you if they see you in your current state, but I would hate for you to be uncomfortable.”
Nina shakes her head. “It’s okay. I don’t want to make Celine’s dress dirty too and make more work for the maids.”
“So considerate,” Ingrid croons. “Selena, you did an actual job raising her.”
Selena laughs, but her cheeks burn and it’s obvious she’s flustered. “I can say the same to you. Celine is all my daughter ever talks about.”
“Looks like we have that in common,” Ingrid says. She glides to the door and Celine can’t help but be awed by her mother’s grace.
She’ll be like that too one day.
“Is everyone ready?” Ingrid asks. When she’s met with a chorus of agreement, she opens the door and guides everyone down the hall.
The maids who are bustling around greet them, but none show ire towards the wet spots Nina creates with her damp feet. However, Nina still toys with the hem of her sleeve and keeps her head down.
Celine links elbows with Nina and whispers. “Don’t worry. I’ve had worse accidents. The maids understand.”
Nina swallows down the ball of lead in her throat. “If you say so.”
“I know so.”
Eventually, they make it to the bathroom. Everyone sheds their clothes and tosses them into the hamper, except for Celine’s soiled pull-ups, which land in the trash can. The two little girls admire their mother’s bodies, having never seen them naked before.
Unlike them, their mothers have breasts and curves. They’re beautiful, and though Celine knows she’s pretty, she wants to be beautiful as well.
Celine’s eyes land on the stretch marks on Ingrid’s abdomen. She points at them. “Mama, where are those from?”
“These marks were from when you were in my belly,” Ingrid explains. She drags her finger over a line.
“I’m sorry,” Celine says. Nina says the same to her own mother, who has guided Nina’s hand to her stomach to feel the marks.
“Don’t be sorry, sunflower. It’s a part of life. It brought you into this world, and that makes everything worth it.”
“Will I get marks too when I become a Mama?” Celine asks. “Did it hurt?”
“You will,” Ingrid answers the questions in order. “It hurt when you came out, but not when you were inside.”
“I’m sorry for hurting you too.”
“There’s nothing to be sorry for. I made the choice to become your mother, Celine. It was the best choice I ever made.”
Ingrid twists the nozzles of the shower and a spray of water emerges from the shower head. Ingrid sticks her hand under the water and coaxes Selena to do the same. Together, they decide on an appropriate temperature.
Nina narrows her eyes at the shower head, recalling the last time she bathed with Celine. She tugs on her friend’s bare arm. “Won’t the shower head — “
Celine shakes her head. “I’m not scared of it anymore. It’s not a wormy. It just looks like one.”
Nina nods.
After a bit, the water is ready.
“¿Lista?” Selena asks Nina.
“Si,” Nina replies and hops into the shower. The showerhead douses her in water, flattening her voluminous hair. Nina can’t help but smile. “Es perfecto.”
“I’m glad,” Selena replies as she joins her daughter. Ingrid and Celine follow suit, and bathing is a relatively quick process.
The mothers apply shampoo and conditioner to their own hair, and while the conditioner sets in, they wash their respective daughters’ hair after reminding them to keep their eyes closed.
“This is the shampoo for big girls,” Ingrid says. “It’ll hurt if it gets in your eyes.”
“It smells nice,” Celine hums. “But I think I prefer my shampoo.”
“That’s good,” Selena pipes in. “You shouldn’t be in a rush to grow up. It will happen as it happens.”
“Yeah,” Nina agrees, melting into her mother’s soft touches. “It’ll happen when it happens.”
After rinsing off the shampoo, the mothers add conditioner. They all scrub their respective bodies, but when it comes to their backs, Ingrid and Selena wash each other, just as Nine and Celine wash each other.
“That tickles,” Celine giggles when Nina’s small, slippery fingers graze her side.
Nina beams and tickles her again, making Celine laugh harder, but before Celine can retaliate, Ingrid interrupts them. “This is the bath, girls. You can have fun later. What if you fall and hurt yourself while playing?”
Both girls apologize and get right back to business.
When everyone has been scrubbed pink, they all rinse away the bubbles. They dry themselves with fluffy towels, dress in the clothes the maids had prepared for them, and return to Ingrid’s room.
The sheets have already been changed. To their surprise, there’s a man waiting for them, holding a bouquet of flowers and a small box wrapped in baby pink paper, topped with a bow. Nina has never seen this tall, brunette man before.
But she likes his mustache. It looks funny.
“Mr. Gardner!” Celine squeals, running up to the man Gardner extends his arms to catch her as she attacks him with a hug. “Is that box for me?”
“Who else would it be for?” Gardner chuckles. He catches Ingrid’s eyes and smiles crookedly. “Hope I wasn’t intruding on fun time between you ladies.”
Celine sets her present on the bed and watches the interactions, excitement temporarily tapered as she watches her mother’s beau meet the people important to them both.
“Not at all,” Ingrid says, walking over and pecking Garnder on the cheek. “Gard, I’d like for you to meet Selena, my close friend, and Nina, her daughter.”
“Pleasure to meet you,” Selena nods. Nina hides behind her legs and clutches the fabric of her dress. “Thank you for taking care of Reina Ingrid in my absence.”
“And thank you for taking care of her in my absence,” Gardner replies. “Nice to meet you, Señora Selena,” he directs his attention to Nina, who peers up at him with large eyes. “I’ve heard a lot about you from Celine so it’s a joy to finally meet you, Nina.”
“Hi,” Nina greets shyly. “It’s nice to meet you too.”
“Next time I’ll have a toy for you as well,” Gardner promises.
“You don’t have to. I have enough toys,” Nina says.
“But I want to. A friend of Celine’s is a friend of mine,” Gardner says. He turns to Ingrid. “I was going to invite you and Celine to town, but would it be okay if we make it an entourage? I’d love to show you, and them, more of the area.”
Ingrid smiles. “That’d be perfect, Gard. Ladies, after Celine and I change into more appropriate clothes is everyone okay with an outing?"
“Why do you need to change?” Nina asks, tilting her head to the side.
“For protection,” Ingrid says. “And to blend in. I’d hate to make the people cautious if they knew they were so close to royalty.”
Nina hums. “That makes sense.”
Met with agreements, Celine and Ingrid are given privacy in Ingrid’s bedroom to change. Ingrid always has a pair of clothes for Celine in her room.
Once finished, Ingrid links arms with Gardner and guides everyone out of the castle, carefully evading the guards. Celine mimics the action with Nina and the party goes on to create new memories with each other.
The present waits for Celine, but patiently. Memories, after all, are essential.
And Celine will go on to make many with those she loves and will learn to love.