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In a garden hidden in the city of smeraldo bursting with shimmering flowers, he hid his face from the world, haunted by secrets and his own insecurities. One night, a bold girl slipped into his garden mesmerized by the blooms, making her steal n...
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She sat on the cold ground, staring at the window. Her thoughts tangled in the memory of last night. Why had she said it? Why had those words left her lips?
Her head dropped into her hands as she let out a soft groan of frustration. The silence that had followed her daring statement had felt endless, crushing. She couldn't forget the intensity of his gaze, the way he had stood there, unmoving, as if her words had pierced through the very mask he wore.
"Wow, that sounds like a fairy tale!" her younger friend exclaimed, pressing her hands to her cheeks as though lost in a dream.
She had shared a bit of her encounter with the children, leaving out the parts that felt too complicated to explain.
"I don't trust him," said one of the older boys, his tone cautious and firm. "Why does he wear a mask?" asked one of the older boys, his voice edged with suspicion.
"What is he hiding?"
"He's probably a villain," another chimed in, crossing his arms.
"Or a prince!" the younger girl declared, spinning in delight. "A mysterious prince!" That made her laugh.
"I don't know why he hides his face," she admitted softly.
"But... he doesn't seem cruel." His eyes, the only part of him she could truly see, held no malice. If anything, they seemed honest.
"Cruel people don't buy flowers for no reason" she said.
The youngest boy grinned, munching on a piece of bread.
"Thanks to him, we got the good bread today!"
"Yeah!" The little girl chimed in, holding up the half eaten bread. "No scraps this time. A whole bread!"
