10.
❝Queen Watevra Wa'Nabi
the least evil queen in history
and if you do not believe me
i totally won't imprison your family
'cause that'd be evil and that's so not me❞
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For breakfast, they gave her a selection of cereals, fruit juice, yoghurts, porridge and fresh fruit, tea or coffee and fruit juice. Willow usually went for fresh orange juice, a faint memory of where her heart belonged to, to and with Lev's; then she was fed almond or soy yoghurt, mostly she preferred the former but the nurses weren't most pleasant in the morning.
Lev upgraded her to the fully air-conditioned VIP room from general. She was grateful. Besides, he brought her puddings at two and they usually chatted a bit until the after-lunch meds would take over.
Willow's complaint was the only thing that was remotely edible and doctor-approved was a murky pool of saltwater, with weird taste of tomatoes (?), and what appears to be algae. Hospital algae.
Lev did stop once and ordered two bowls of French onion soup.
Best to say the hospital cafeteria didn't respond well to his very constructive feedback.
"Peach milk tea?" He added a best straw next to her mouth. And readjusted it once again, holding the can at near distance.
"Yes please"
"Good news, kiddlings! The doctors said she can be discharged!"
That's right... Camilla Harding is here.
Willow glared at her husband. He could have sworn her glaring had put a hole through his head.
"You called your mother?" She whisper-shouted. "What for?"
See, it's a common misconception about adopted children : they adjust with anyone, they're that loving.
But all Willow desired was to be left alone.
"Given your... Your condition and things... I felt you could really benefit from a positive influence..."
Willow would have facepalmed so hard. "Positive influence? Shouldn't you have gotten me Amelie?!" So mad. "Anyone... A friggin platypus is better option than your mom."
"You don't see me smiling either, " flatly he stated.
Willow squirmed and cried out, "What a disaster, Levi"
On (apparent) impulse, as if, Camilla Harding prebooked a cab. A limo-sized cab. Willow felt like a little girl in it (a little girl trapped in the attic closet, to be more precise) as the unfamiliar man, posh French, drove them.
"How's the old family?" Said Camilla, conversationally.
"Chicago is the worst this time of year, isn't it? Your poor American parents. Why don't they come and live here?"
Has Lev lost his mind? How'd a tyrannical, super sophisticated, neurotic woman fit into their lives? The answer, she wouldn't!
"You don't like America?"
"No. But what makes you say that?"
Thankfully, Lev only inherited beauty from her side. The rest was Amelie's fairheartedness & Levar's clinical lessons.
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fine! couldn't help but post this. this is only filler chapter. Xx
