Of Blonds and Insistence
Word Count: 250
"What have you to say in your defense, Karias?" The Lord regarded the young noble with a harsh stare, recrimination bleeding within his crimson depths.
"I assure you, this is a misunderstanding, my Lord!" Karias cried out with desperation, his eyes wide in disbelief.
"How can this be? Look at these blond soft curls and red vibrant eyes. It can be no other than you!" the Lord exclaimed in a matter-of-fact tone, pointing towards the toddler on his lap.
"I am not the father! I – I would never… I do not know whose child this is, but it is not mine!" the blond noble insisted in the verge of a mental breakdown. He had no clue who had sired this boy, but he would not be held accountable for others' indiscretions. Just as the Lord opened his mouth to accuse him once more – no doubt – the chamber doors were pushed open and a slightly flustered Ragar rushed in.
"Apologies, my Lord. Gejutel wished to have a word with me. I hope Rael did not cause any trouble." The Kertia clan leader excused himself for not being there sooner. He had brought Rael with him today after the Lord's insistence on meeting his youngest son.
"I told you he was not my son! I am too young to be fathering children!" Karias slumped to the ground unceremoniously, immensely relieved.
"Well, would you look at that…" the Lord remarked with feigned innocence, hiding a self-indulgent smirk, and ruffling Rael's wavy locks affectionately.
Of Pumpkins and Starvation
Word Count: 150
"You finally agreed to join us for brunch, yet you are not eating! Is the food not to your liking, Raizel?" the Lord asked the solemn male with disappointment. Raizel had been staring at a pumpkin tart with a bizarre expression for almost half an hour.
"Master, could it be that you do not know what it is?" Frankenstein interjected, correctly interpreting Raizel's expression.
"Absurd – how can he not know what pumpkins are? What have you been feeding him!?" the lord exclaimed, leveling the blond human with a bemused glare.
"Are you accusing me of starving my Master?" Frankenstein retorted, but Raizel chose that moment to speak.
"It is sweet – I like it," the Noblesse commented, nodding with approval after having taken a small bite.
"Gejutel, we are planting pumpkins in the garden today!" the Lord proclaimed ecstatic, forgetting his argument after seeing traces of contentment in Raizel's scarlet depths.
Of Rebels and Lace
Word Count: 150
"I do not know why she refuses to dress like the young ladies of her age – to prefer male clothing of all things!" Roctis sighed with exasperation, referring to Ignes' recent wardrobe change.
"Do not fret so much, Roctis. She is at that rebellious age. At least your daughter is merely wearing trousers, not sneaking glances at damn peacocks!" the Lord attempted to console the dark haired noble, yet he couldn't help but recall the recent object of Raskreia's obsession.
"Besides, it could be worse," he added after a small pause with a thoughtful expression.
"How so?" Roctis returned puzzled, wondering what could be worse than your daughter dressing as a man.
"A man preferring female clothing such as lace and frills is… infinitely worse," the Lord elaborated, tilting his head towards Karias a few seats away.
"Indeed, I do feel sorry for his father…" was all Roctis could reply.