One day, with her plan set in motion, Seraphina grabbed a sketchpad and some drawing tools, knowing exactly when Mr. Pedro would show up in the garden. She positioned herself under the shade of a tall tree, pretending to focus intently on the bird perched on a branch above. The problem was, she wasn’t good at drawing—something she hoped would work in her favor.
As she scribbled aimlessly on the paper, she caught sight of Mr. Pedro strolling toward her from a distance. She kept her head down, biting her lip as if deep in concentration. The closer he got, the more her heart pounded, but she kept her hand moving, making random lines that vaguely resembled the shape of a wing.
He arrived quietly, but she felt his presence beside her, the warmth of his gaze lingering over her sketchpad. “A bird?” he asked, sitting down without invitation.
“Yes,” Seraphina replied without looking up, pretending to adjust a line that made no sense. “I saw it and thought... why not draw it?”
Mr. Pedro chuckled softly. “Do you know how to draw?”
Seraphina let out a small, embarrassed laugh. “Not at all. But I figured I’d give it a try.” She turned her sketch toward him with an exaggerated frown. “How bad is it?”
He took the pad from her hands, glancing over her attempt. A small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth, the closest thing to a genuine expression she’d seen from him. “Well... it’s not terrible,” he said, his voice playful. “It has a certain... charm.”
Seraphina couldn't help but grin. “You’re being kind. It’s awful.”
He shook his head, flipping to a blank page on the pad. “Here,” he said, handing her a pencil. “Let me show you a trick.”
She leaned closer as he began guiding her hand over the paper, his voice low and calm as he explained how to capture the shape and angles of the bird. For a moment, everything felt lighter—less like a game and more like a shared moment between two people.
As his hand lingered over hers, Seraphina glanced up at him briefly. For the first time, she noticed a softness in his eyes that hadn’t been there before, and it made her heart skip a beat.
“See?” he murmured, releasing her hand. “Not so difficult.”
She looked down at the sketch they’d made together—it was far from perfect, but it was better than anything she could have done alone. “Thanks,” she whispered, her voice softer than she intended.
Mr. Pedro leaned back slightly, studying her with a thoughtful look. “You’re not like the others,” he said after a moment, almost to himself.
Seraphina tilted her head, pretending not to understand. “What do you mean?”
He smiled faintly, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Nothing,” he said, standing up and dusting his hands. “Keep practicing. Maybe next time you’ll get the wings right.”
And with that, he strolled away, leaving Seraphina sitting there with the sketchpad in her lap.
As she watched him disappear around the corner, her chest felt strange—like she’d just crossed a line she didn’t even know existed.
Seraphina got up from the garden with the sketchpad still in hand and rushed to find Elara. As soon as she spotted her friend folding linens in the corner of the courtyard, Seraphina whispered excitedly, “It worked! He came, he actually sat with me!”
Elara's eyes lit up, and she dropped the linen with a grin. “I knew it would! Congratulations, Seraphina.” She gave her a playful nudge. “So, how was it?”
Seraphina’s cheeks flushed a little as she recalled the way Mr. Pedro’s hand had lingered over hers. “It went better than I expected,” she admitted. “And the best part? We actually drew something decent together. He keeps coming back every day now.”
Elara gave a sly smirk. “See? I told you, men love it when they feel like the hero. Teaching you must’ve made him feel important.”
Seraphina laughed, though there was a flicker of something deeper in her chest. “It’s all part of the plan,” she reminded herself—more to convince herself than Elara. But even though it started as a strategy, she couldn’t deny that the sketching sessions were becoming… enjoyable.
And so, every day, Seraphina returned to the garden with her sketchpad. Like clockwork, Mr. Pedro would show up, quietly settling beside her as they worked on their drawings. It became a rhythm between them—her pretending to struggle, him offering guidance—and before long, her hands began to move on their own, no longer needing his help.
What began as scribbles slowly evolved into shapes, and soon those shapes became elegant lines and detailed sketches. Birds, flowers, and even portraits filled the pages of her pad. Mr. Pedro noticed her improvement too, occasionally offering a satisfied nod but saying little.
Day by day, her skills sharpened, and soon enough, her drawings were no longer beginner’s work. "I'd say I'm about sixty percent there," she thought to herself proudly after finishing a sketch of a delicate rose.
But somewhere between the lines and shadows, Seraphina started to forget that it had all been a ploy. Drawing with him became less about manipulation and more about the moments they shared. She felt herself look forward to their time together in the garden—more than she ever intended.
When Elara noticed the glint in her friend’s eyes, she gave her a knowing look one evening and teased, “Careful, Seraphina. You’re supposed to make him fall in love, not the other way around.”
Seraphina scoffed, brushing it off with a laugh. But deep down, her heart fluttered nervously at the thought. “This is just part of the plan,” she repeated under her breath. But somehow, with each sketch and conversation, that plan seemed to blur just a little more.
YOU ARE READING
THE SASSY PRINCESS
Ficción GeneralA rebellious princess's goes upside down when her parents died leaving her to go through obstacles to obtain the throne,her enemy adds when a friendship with a stable boy turns to bitterness after her father punishes his family, igniting resentment...
