Daddy's Girl

Ch. 6 Candles

Chapter 6
Candles

Sylas
For the next few days, things fall into a routine. Every morning Emmy and I eat breakfast together (she has been allowing me to cut up her waffles) before I alternate between working from home in my office and spoiling my new princess. Spoiling includes coloring, playing together, new stuffies, reading to her, lots of hugs and even more praise. Though I have not officially asked her to be my little, my princess seems to thrive off of my affection and- even better- has become used to my presence quickly. After lunch, I finish up work (lots of zoom calls, paperwork and bookkeeping) until dinner where I eat once again with my baby before Emmy takes her bath. Then it's movies, stories and tucking her into bed. Despite my best efforts my princess often sneaks into my bed and proceeds to sprawl like a starfish. I do not have the heart to turn her away but have ordered a crib.
     Perhaps when I ask her to be mine and we address her rewards and punishments we will start her sleeping in it. Normally I would have waited to create her rules but there is no way my wild little flower could go so long without guidance and discipline. So far she has been good but as she has grown more comfortable there is a joyful wicked gleam in her eyes that grows brighter each day. Soon she will begin testing the limits and I will have to punish her. I both dread and relish the thought.
     The tenth morning of this routine, nearly two weeks into Emmy's stay, I sit at the dining room  table, glancing over a few legal documents. Jace (my favorite assistant and legal advisor) will be calling at some point to discuss them. Marsha brings me a fresh cup of coffee and smiles when I glance at the clock yet again.
     "She'll be up any minute now, Sir" Her eyes are warm. Twenty-seven years this woman has known me and worked for my family. She arrived when I was only two or three years old and when I left to create my own legacy, I asked her to accompany me. 'Never will you go hungry, never will you freeze. There will be a roof over your head and money in your pocket. I would be honored if you would continue to tend to myself and my future little one.' Marsha has been here ever since.
     "If you would like, Sir, surely you could wake her. I have to tend to the laundry anyway."
     I smile into my coffee. Marsha has been oh-so-conveniently disappearing more and more at random times throughout the day as Emmy's stay has drawn on- times precisely when my little one will need assistance or tending to. She has used these opportunities to suggest I do it instead, both to my satisfaction and chagrin. Marsha's shameless scheming has allowed my little one to trust me more and more. The first time, I cut her food for her and fed her. The second time, I brushed and braided her silken hair. The third, I helped her change from her pajamas to her day clothes.
     I think now of how she blushed crimson as I helped her from her pants and shirt, careful to keep my gaze respectful. I would see all of it and more soon anyway. She had been apprehensive but I did not miss the way she stared at me, the way her breathing quickened and her face and chest flushed when I drew near. When she had been completely dressed she had avoided my eyes but smiled and fidgeted in what I assumed was a little happy dance.
"Yes, Marsha, I think that'd be a fantastic idea."
I have to refrain from running as I make my way to my little angel's room. I don't bother knocking. When I go inside, Emmy is still asleep, spread-eagle across the blankets and pillows. I take only a moment to admire her before brushing my knuckles across her cheek. I can't help my grin. "Wake up, little one. Today we're going shopping."

Emma
    Despite living in the heart of the city, Daddy doesn't take the bright yellow cabs or the scary underground subway. Instead he makes a call and ten minutes later, a long dark limousine pulls outside the house. I barely pays attention. I am too focused on the front of the massive manor (I has not seen it until now), an immaculate work of stone, veined gold and hundreds upon hundreds of windows. Green ivy crawls across every surface, including the prestigious gates guarding the grounds.
     "Come along, Princess."
Daddy picks me up with ease and tucks me against his hip as we move to the limo where he proceeds to open the door. I am confused for only a moment as he sits me down in a strange looking seat-
I immediately began to fidget and fuss. "No seat! No car seat! Nuh uh nuh uh!" I is a big girl I don't need a seat! I feel tears of embarrassment fill my eyes and my cheeks burn as Daddy pays me no mind, continuing to strap me in the seat. Pesty watches all of this from my arms with a frown.
"Little girls are too little to drive, Princess, and I want you to be safe if we get in an accident."
But now I have started crying and I doesn't want to stop. Daddy has put me in a baby seat (plenty big enough for me and decorated in pink and shiny textures) and I have never felts so embarrassed. Maybe he doesn't thinks I am capable of anything. Maybe he thinks I am dangerous, that I is dirty cause I lived on the streets.
Daddy frowns when he's done and climbs in himself. The car begins moving. "Princess, I promise it's only till we get to the store." But I don't stop crying and now, strapped into this plastic seat like a bomb waiting to go off, I can not even look at him. I turn my face away and stare into the glass window next to me. My cheeks is red and splotchy.
I begin to cry harder. I looks hideous and everyone in the store will stares at me. And here I am crying like a two year old, proving Daddy right. I is useless and weird. How long will it be before he decides he's done wif me?
"Baby girl" Daddy cooes. He begins stroking my hair, touching my cheek or my lip, whatever he can to bring me comfort. I see the concern in his eyes and cry even harder.
"Sir?" I hear a voice ask at the front of the car. "Should we return home?"
Daddy doesn't even considers it. "No, Nigel, thank you." He presses a button to separate the driver from us and turns to me. "Princess, I know you're upset right now but I need you to play a game with me, okay?"
I pause my wailing. A game? I looks at Pesty. I like games but the store and the car seat and my face- tears well again and Daddy is quick to wipe them each. I nod.
Daddy smiles and I feel a little better just at that. "Okay, my beautiful baby. Daddy is going to hold up each finger on his hand and you're going to pretend it's a birthday cake candle. When Daddy holds up each finger one at a time, you're going to take a big, deep breath and then blow out the candle, okay?"
I frowns and wipe fussily at my eyes. "That's a weird game."
"But it's one of Daddy's favorites. Will you play with me please, pretty girl?"
I bite my lip, debating. "If they is birfday candles- can I make a wish?"
"Anything you want."
Finally I nod again and Daddy holds up one finger in front of me. I feels silly but I does as he says and take a big deep breath in through my nose and blow out of my mouth at the "candle."
"There you go, princess, blow the next candle out. Nice slow exhale."
Daddy does this on every finger of his hand before we stop and I takes one last big breath. "All done, baby, you win! You blew out all the candles, good job! How do you feel?"
I feels...better. A lot better. I forgots why I was so upset and the angry sad feeling in my tummy is gone. I feels more settled, more relaxed. I blink up at Daddy, amazed. "Is you a witch?"
Daddy laughs. "No, princess, I just know sometimes it gets really hard being little, right? Things are scary or embarrassing, maybe Daddy does something you don't like and you get sad or mad and it's hard to keep all that sad or mad in."
I frowns down at my chest and tummy. "Where dids the sad-mad go?"
He smiles at my made-up term. "It disappeared. It's gone. The game made them go away, Angel. Thank you for playing with me, I had fun."
I frowns as I try to comes to grips with this new reality. Daddy didn't get mad. He didn't yell or scream or throw things. He didn't hits me when he saw me getting sad-mad. Father never would have tolerated such behavior. Father left bruises. Father left heartache. He did not blow out birfday candles with me.
Useless, hopeless, worthless girl. You have been a sickness on my home for far too long and I am going to cut out the cancer now. I still feel his hands in my hair, ripping and tearing, scalp bleeding, as he threw me out onto the front steps of our home. No- his home. It had never beens mine. It had never beens a home at all. But with Daddy and Marsha...every day is happy. There is normalcy, routine, but it is not the strict, military-like nature of high society Father instilled. Instead, everything is safe, warm, welcoming. I cans cry and be sad-mad and all Daddy and Marsha wants is to fix it.
"You blew out five candles, Baby" Daddy says. "What were your five wishes?"
"Nuh uh, not telling" I say.
He presses a hand to his heart in fake hurt and I giggle. "What? Daddy doesn't get to know? Daddy was the birthday candles, I think Daddy should get to know."
I shakes my head. "Uh, uh, won't come true."
Daddy sighs but there is a smile on his handsome face. "Alright, Princess, alright. Keep your little secrets- I'll find them all out soon enough." He winks and I blush pink.
     The car begins to slow and outside I see we is pulling up in front of a sprawling shopping outlet center, dozens and dozens of stores shopped by even more people rushing back and forth.
     "Okay, little one, look at me. Thank you. I need you to be on your best behavior in the store. If you feel the sad-mad again and wanna do the candle game, just let Daddy know. We are not going to go in and act like a brat, okay? That means no whining, no begging, no yelling, no running. You hold Daddy's hand the entire time. If you yell, scream, run away, throw a fit or hit or bite, we will leave immediately and not come back." I avoid Daddy's eyes and his tone becomes firmer, more dominant. My tummy flips at the deep command in his voice. "Do you understand?"
     Silence.
     "Emmy. Speak when Daddy talks to you. Do you understand what Daddy is telling you?"
     "Yes, Sir."
      It might be's my imagination but Daddy seems to be pleased by answer. His eyes darken at 'Sir.' He runs a hand through my hair and now it is my turns to shiver. "Good girl."
     I likes those words. I want to hear them again and again and again.