Dear Sofia, I Have a Choice to Make

I didn't miss the funny stare I received from Wormwood as I exited the lair, the gleam of curiosity and mischievousness in his eyes telling me there was something going on that I wasn't aware of.

The natural response would be to wonder what Cedric had done to me— after all, I had been asleep in there for many hours— but I couldn't bring myself to be suspicious of the ridiculed man. He wouldn't do anything too devious without my at least being able to recognize it, right?

I shook off the immediate doubt and allowed my reasoning to follow a more logical path— I'm his only friend! Who would be stupid enough to make their only friend mad? I will figure it out eventually, he's not smart enough to keep anything from me for too long. Never was, never will be.

I shrugged off the strange pull in my chest, the worry that had been nearly diminished suddenly grew to a suffocating intensity and placed a large lump in my throat. I swallowed all of my doubts in my only friend and thought back to my encounter with Prince James.

He was livid with me.

But he doesn't seem like the type to just get mad over such little things. It feels more like he's the kind to get extremely disappointed and then sulks around until you cave or promise to make it up to him.

I wonder what happened today during practice. Did he brag about his aunt, who is some supposed pro rider, and then get laugh at for his lies? Did they doubt that he even had an aunt and was just a big fat liar altogether?

Or did it have something to do with Sofia wanting to ride and he was just getting defensive over his sister?

I will admit, I prefer the last one, it makes me feel as if history isn't repeating itself.

I wonder if I should try to make it up to him by attending tomorrow— good idea or bad?

"Emilia!" A shrill voice called out to me and I ignored it at first, that is, until I heard the footsteps pummeling towards me. I paused and turned to look at the little girl running to catch up with me.

"Yes?" I smiled sweetly at the newest member of the family and watched flippantly as she nearly tumbled into my legs. "Sofia, what could it possibly be that has put you so out of sorts?" I laughed lightly at the little girl's clumsiness.

"I was wondering why you didn't come to dinner!" She smiled up at me, her eyes twinkling happily.

"Oh, I just happened to fall asleep earlier… and missed a lot of events this afternoon…" I excused timidly as I crouched to her eye level.

"Well, James was really upset that you didn't come." Her eyes suddenly went wide and she glanced around suspiciously. "Don't tell him I said that. I wasn't supposed to tell you."

"My lips are sealed… But…" I hesitated.

"What is it?"

"Why? Why would he want me to go in the first place? I mean, I never promised to ride or anything and I'm pretty sure he detested me at first."

Sofia's brow knitted tightly in the middle, as if she were considering an answer that she wasn't 100% sure of. "I don't really know. I suppose the best way to figure out the answer to that is to go ask him yourself." She paused and eyed me carefully. "You should probably apologize before you start asking questions though."

"Yeah yeah. I know that." I stared at her in a deadpan and then ruffled her hair as I looked away with a bitter expression. I quickly corrected it, however, with a weak look of appreciation. "Thank you, Sofia."

Cedric was right about you.

With thoughts of the sorcerer in mind, and the girl of his interest before me, I couldn't help but let my eyes flicker to the amulet perched preciously around her neck. It really is a jewel to behold, I could just barely hold back my gape of admiration for the magical jewel.

I made up my mind.

"Hey Sofia? Your Amulet… where did you get it?" It was not asked as creepily as probably imagined, I made sure to change my intonation to that of a more hostile one. Sorry Sofie.

"Oh, this?" She plucked it off her chest and gave it a little waggle— completely unaware to my mild animosity— and, if I were Cedric, I'm sure I would be drooling at the unintentional taunt. I nodded in confirmation, swallowing in anticipation of her answer. "Dad gave it to me as welcoming to the family."

"It's very pretty." I smiled softly. "And, it's also very special." I let my chin drop pointedly and my eyes sharpen as hers widened with realization. "So I advise you to take exceptional care of it."

She nodded firmly, taking my warning for what it was.

I let the serious air drop immediately and stood back up with a relaxed smile plastered to my lips. "You want to accompany me to the kitchen?"

She hesitated as if deciding whether or not she trusted me, or found my knowledge too dangerous for her to stick around any longer.

I extended my hand to her. "I'll find you a little something sweet." I tempted with hope edging into my tone.

She stared at me for a soft moment and then the trust was painfully evident in the way her entire body released and, like a spring uncoiling, she launched herself and grasped my hand firmly between her little fingers. I nearly gaped, but bit down the arguments of her behavior and how it would doom her in the end. I had already offered her as much help as I was sure I could give her without completely betraying my crabby confident.

Too trusting, I mentally noted, that'll be helpful for Cedric later, I'm sure. I sighed heavily as I led her down the familiar dark hallways.

Whereas it may seem like I support Sofia's side, I'm still not entirely sure a little girl having the amulet is best either. I know that if Cedric ever got his hands on it, he wouldn't irrationally start warring it out with the castle members. No, he's a man of reasonable reason, he would more than likely study it profusely and then heavily debate with himself about what he's to do with it. I wouldn't be surprised if he didn't use it at all in the end.

But then there's that chance someone angers him as he is studying it and he lashes out senselessly.

And then there's Sofia, not knowing its true power, she could release something damaging or even let it fall into someone else's hands, someone far worse than Cedric could ever be.

There's a chance of either and I'm not sure what I am to do or who I am to support.

I wish I could just lock it up in a trunk and never let either of them have it. I kind of wish that it didn't even exist if I'm to be completely honest.

My hand unconsciously latched onto Sofia's a little tighter and I couldn't help the strong pulse in my chest that resulted. I smiled as I lead her to the kitchen.

I suppose I'll have to take it all in stride.

Newly Teenaged Emilia blew out the candles on the cake before said cake took to flipping and flying around the room for good show. Cedric, now 21 years old, smiled happily as he guided the flying cake around the room with his fingers.

The teenage girl laughed loudly at his poor excuse of a show and made sure to comment on it scornfully between laughs and gasps for air.

He frowned and allowed the cake to split itself into pieces before landing on respective plates.

"Well, excuse me for trying to give you a show!" He growled uselessly.

Emilia ignored him and stuck her fork into the sugary sweet before jamming the cake-covered utensil between her lips. "You may not be the best performer, but you do make a mean cake!" She praised, raising the older boy's sulking state to that of a more amused one as he watched the girl devour his first baking attempt.

She had adamantly refused touching the one from the kitchen.

When he asked her about it, she didn't share that she had a dislike cake, instead, she just said plainly that she didn't want their cake. When asked what that meant, she refused to say anymore on the matter.

Out of curiosity, the boy had taken to the kitchen and decided to see if he had any talent whatsoever in the cooking world, only to find it surprisingly similar to mixing potions. It wasn't that hard.

But then he had a cake that he didn't know what to do with, so he took it back to the tower with him.

When he was walking down the hall that morning, he managed to pass her room where the door was obtusely open. And, when he peeked around the corner of it, she was hauling the unopened boxes wrapped in pretty papers into the hallway, setting them out by the trash disposal as if to send a message.

The boy had a sneaking suspicion about what she was doing, but he wasn't going to voice it. It was her decision after all.

But it surprised him greatly when she asked him for a piece. He had honestly brushed off her words earlier for stubbornly not wanting to admit that she didn't like the famously loved pastry. He, of course, said she could have some if she wanted, it's not like anyone else was going to eat it. When the two entered the lab, his father immediately deemed it her birthday cake— despite not having a hand in its baking whatsoever— sticking some candles in it as if to prove his pointed declaration.

The littlest princess had tried to protest the title and her red cheeks told Cedric that, once again, she wasn't being her dreadfully honest self.

And so he also dove into the role of party host.

She had eventually broke out of her ostentation and fell into the role of birthday girl.

Cedric did have to admit, she was more fun when she wasn't being modest.

Emilia couldn't ever imagine having so much fun on a birthday.

Roland, now 28, sat at his office desk, finally getting the hang of the tedious tasks that came with being king. He had been filling out forms for the most of the morning and happened to look in the direction of the little calendar on his desk. His pen halted mid-signature as he realized his mistake.

It was Emilia's birthday.

Yes, of course he had Baileywick handling the tasks of getting her royal presents and a small party set up, one that no one outside of the castle even knew was taking place— but he himself usually put a little something extra into it every year. Not that King Roland ever saw his little sister or even knew what she liked for that matter.

She's sixteen years my junior, so that makes her… 13. A teenager. He calculated silently.

Roland knew he had forgotten this year, again. It's just really hard to remember a date for an absent presence.

Would he go see her, get her some random present, or just pretend that he hadn't remembered at all and let Baileywick's present suffice?

He pondered it and it distracted him from his forms consistently during that hour. So he went for a walk.

In his pensive mood, he managed to make his way down to the end of the castle that her room resided in. He was going to pass her room and he didn't even realize such a fact until he was right over top of her.

Her back was to him so he paused and stood there silently as he watched her peculiar actions. She was taking the brightly wrapped up boxes and stacking them in front of the trash disposal.

Did she not want them?

Suddenly there was a second pair of footsteps and the king ducked behind the armor accouterments. There was a second figure instantaneously there and the littler girl had stopped in her disposal actions to talk to the figure.

"What's that?"

"I was taking my hand in baking."

"Oh! I want some!" She squealed happily, surprising her older brother who was holding his breath in hiding.

"Didn't you tell the royal bakers that you didn't want their cake this year?" The faintly familiar voice asked skeptically.

"Because I don't." The king peered around the metal sheet in front of him and managed to catch her nonchalant shrug.

He looked to the figure she was talking to.

It was Goodwin's son… what was his name…? Cefric? Sedriec? Cedric?

Yes, that had to be it.

"What are you doing?" He asked her with a raised eyebrow as he looked to the mountain of boxes.

"Spring cleaning?" She offered, weakly humorous.

"That one was a tragic fail." He deadpanned and then a teasing smile also rose to his lips. "It's not nearly spring yet."

"Can I have cake or not?" She huffed, obviously not finding the humor in his countering joke.

"Yeah, yeah. Whatever." He deflated, waving her off.

"Why are you making a cake in the first place, aren't you supposed to be the poor excuse of a sorcerer?" She seemed to tease.

The younger boy scowled at her and shook his head. "Pick at that one again and you aren't getting any."

She laughed.

Laughed.

"It probably isn't that good anyway."

"Then you can't have any!" And he took off into a nonrelenting run.

She blinked and paused in her casual walk right beside of where her brother hid. He tensed.

"Hey!" And she chased after him, her cheeks puffed up angrily.

King Roland the second stepped out from his hiding place, his brow scrunched up worrisomely.

Had he made a mistake all of those years ago with that brash command?

He had seen so many miracles in such a short amount of time it was amazing that he was able to think or stand at all.

His chest thudded as the tiny figure disappeared altogether.

"Oh man. I really have to do something for her birthday this year."

He intentionally avoided looking at the boxes of trash that stood at his side.

The question was: What could he do this late already?

"So, how much Jiggle-Wiggly pudding did my brother leave for leftovers?" I asked with a hint of amusement. Small talk with Sofia was surprisingly fun as I had discovered during our little walk.

"Dad and James certainly put a hurting on it." She answered shortly with a cringe.

"So there's none left for me?"

"Probably not."

"How much does Amber like it? I'm beginning to think that the love of it runs in the family with a great deal of dominance."

Sofia pondered for a second, her hand going to her chin in the classic pensive gesture. "She's never complained about it."

"Meaning she likes it a lot?" I offered with a bit of a mean laugh.

Sofia giggled into her hands and nodded in confirmation.

I smiled, a bit proud of myself for that one.

"Emil- Aunt Emilia—?" She broke off in her question early, not even sure of how to address me.

"Either's fine, I know I'm not nearly as old as Aunt Tilly or your dad so it must be kind of awkward."

Sofia's face scrunched up in confusion, also confusing me.

"Have you not met Tilly yet?"

She shook her head no.

"Huh. That's a bit weird. Don't worry, my sister has a bit of a mind of her own, she'll show up when she wants to. And what were you going to ask before that?"

Sofia sent me an unsure glance and I didn't know if it was about Tilly or of what she was about to ask.

"Why does Dad always look so sad when he talks about you?"

I shivered as the chills commandeered my skin violently and froze in my steps. Such an innocent voice asking me that? Why?

I looked at Sofia out of the corner of my eye and huffed heavily at her concerned gaze. There was no way I could tell her the truth, so I played it safe. "I'm not sure. 'I suppose the best way to figure out the answer to that is to go ask him yourself.'" I replayed her words back at her and her eyes flew wide in realization.

"I'm sorry I didn't mean—"

"It's fine." I cringed at how steely my voice sounded and softened it considerably before I spoke again. "Let's just get some chow."

She nodded slightly, her expression telling me that her mind was elsewhere.

I huffed as I pulled some leftovers out of the cooler and gasped as I found a huge bowl of pudding! I pulled it out and Sofia's eyes widened considerably. "Jackpot!" I whisper-yelled.

I whipped out two spoons while Sofia slid a stool to the counter so that she could reach it more easily.

And we dug in.

"You know, Sofia…" I trailed off, thinking of how to answer her question in the most basic way, without resurfacing old wounds. I can't stand leaving things unanswered, it leaves people more room to go snooping. "…your dad and I spent a lot of time apart as kids. He wasn't the best brother and I suppose that gets to him." I let the spoon drop into the pudding as my eyes slightly clouded over from the memories. "I always admired him, but I avoided him. I suppose there are some misgivings in there somewhere." I gave vaguely.

"Then why don't you straighten them out?" She looked at me innocently and I smiled sadly, the proximity in which we were at making it useless in trying to conceal any expression.

"There are just some things I can't do." I said lowly ambiguous.

"You could always try." Her eyes were wise as she stared up at me. Wide and hopeful.

My tense expression softened and my voice escaped in a small whisper. "Yeah. I suppose that's why I'm here now, Sof."

And I'm not leaving until something changes.

After killing half the bowl of pudding and most of the remainder of the night, we suddenly froze at the sound of approaching footsteps. Our eyes wide and our small-talk diminished, we scrambled to grab our bowl of jiggly-wiggly pudding and to duck into the lower cabinet that happened to be empty.

I had barely closed the door behind me when whoever it was waltzed in.

The area would have been a tight fit for one fully-grown person, so Sofie and I were squeezed in tightly, side by side, with our knees plastered to our chests and out heads ducked low. I thanked the heavens that my build was small. Yes, I was tall, it's a given that someone in Roland the First's family was tall— except Tilly, and she was teased on that account many-a-times— but I was thin and that fact made hiding in tight spots such as this all the more easier.

There were quiet steps that traveled about the room and a thought suddenly hit me, making me instantly feel like an idiot: this late at night, no one is supposed to be in here. Not even us. So, by that logic, whoever it is that's in the kitchen now is in the same boat as we are and a deal could possibly be in order; the kind of deal that states: I didn't see you, therefore, you didn't see me.

That is, a deal is possible, depending on who it is that's out there.

I listened a moment longer as the light footsteps made their way around the stone floors of the kitchen before grabbing the handle and peeking the cabinet door open. Sofia squeaked a little at my actions and I silenced her with a single finger to the lips as I peered out precariously. The light from the crack creating a line of light in the small closet, I didn't miss the little girl's eyes studying me carefully with a searching eye. I don't know what she was looking for but I currently didn't really care.

"Who's there?" A voice snapped quietly. I saw the fluttering of something purple and realized why the footsteps were so light.

I smiled and climbed out of the cabinet, gesturing for Sofia to climb out of the cramped space as well. She hesitantly followed me, carrying the bowl of pudding.

"Oh, it's you." The source of our previous fears sighed at the sight of us and placed his wand back in his sleeve.

"What were you going to do with that?"

He opened his mouth to answer, his eyes closed proudly, when his voice hitched and he seemed to realize he was talking to me. "It's nothing." He muttered, turning his back to me.

"C'mon! What kind of spell were we almost victim to?" I nearly laughed.

But the glance he sent me made the smile die on my lips and I suddenly didn't want to know. I don't know why he looked so guilty under my gaze, but I stopped pressing for it and looked back to Sofia who was watching the sorcerer with a fascinated eye.

I take it she hasn't talked to him much yet?

"Hey, Sof, pudding, table. Now." I licked my spoon distractedly and she once again climbed up her little stool and placed the giant bowl on the table.

Cedric was looking through the cabinets and coolers, it seemed to me that he had missed dinner as well.

"Cedric." I said sharply. He turned to look at me curiously and I tossed an extra spoon to him. He fumbled with it for a second, being the uncoordinated geek he is, but surprisingly didn't drop it.

I gestured to the giant bowl before Sofie and I, before digging in once again.

He looked between us for a second— I slowly came to realize that he and Sofia were watching each other especially careful— before approaching from the other side of her and jamming his spoon in. "I never did understand why the royal family likes their pudding so. But in this case, the extra quantity is welcomed."

I laughed. "We are going to be in so much trouble tomorrow."

"Not if no one finds out." Sofie giggled.

I looked down at her in surprise and realized that Cedric was amused with her mischievous streak as well.

"Well there you go." He added shortly.

I laughed again.

And, before we knew it, the three of us had annihilated the remaining pudding.

I slightly suspect Sofia of getting more than Cedric and I.

That girl can eat.

And, at our own pace, we retired to our respective rooms for the night; leaving no traces to the crime in our wake.

Roland's going to be so mad.

Emilia has a choice to make somewhere in the future! Mwahaha!

By the way, I am not going to use every arc in the show. I'm just going to use them as kickstarts to plot and then veer off in my own direction until that direction hits a dead end, and then I will rebound back off of another episode that is favored by myself.

I don't really care for the "Just one of the Prince's" episode, it just holds special meaning with me because it's the first episode- first anything I saw of Sofia the First, and I feel that it's important to the series because it introduces what each character thinks of Princess Sofia and her relationship to them.

Anyway!

...To Be Continued...