On Mary’s fifth birthday, she got Nicholas to play with her for the first time. It took quite a bit of persuading and bugging and even faked tears, but eventually, Cecilia sent the boy off to play with her.
He stood very straight, staring at her as if she were a very scary, foreign object that he had no idea what to do with.
Mary took care of it for him though. She talked and talked through the day, about nonsense and little things for hours. Eventually though, she asked Nicholas questions, and she learned that his favorite color was light blue and that his favorite food was cake, when he was allowed to have it. Mary informed him very seriously that her favorite color was pink, but that she agreed on account of his favorite food.
She weaseled much more information out of him that day. He gradually grew a little more comfortable than he had initially been, especially since she didn’t demand that they play with dolls or any other girly games.
When Mary lost her front tooth that day, Nicholas was there to see it, and when she was alarmed by the blood that tasted coppery and metallic in her mouth, he led her calmly to the lavatory and helped her with the blood until a maid came to assist her. She came out grinning, and Nicholas cracked his first small smile when he saw her missing tooth.
After she got him to smile, Mary was set. She babbled on for hours, talking about this and that, and bringing Nicholas into the conversation as much as she could.
“I think the horses are nice,” she said, quite randomly, and abruptly ending the last topic of worms in the garden. She and Nicholas both appreciated the worms greatly. “My favorite is Adalia. She’s pretty and nice whenever Father lets me near her. Who’s your favorite?”
Nicholas thought for only a moment. “Roan.”
As he rarely ever gave more than one or two word answers, Mary was more than satisfied with his response and she beamed before continuing the conversation in a completely different direction.
The next few days, Mary was busy with different princessly duties that she thought she could do without. But Isabel said her father insisted, so she went along with it grudgingly. More likely than not, however, she would find herself enjoying the various activities and lessons. They were different and new, and she was five and easily excitable.
After these few days, Mary sought out Nicholas and began the process of coaxing him out of his shell again. She had barely done it the last time, and now that he had built it back up again, it was exceedingly hard. But she was up for a challenge, and after about two or three hours of a one-sided conversation, he shot her a look, and she was pleased that she had got a response out of him. So pleased, in fact, that her chatter regained its original energy and spark, and Nicholas groaned internally.
Another hour later, he consented just so she would go away, answering one of her billions of questions with a nod of his head. Mary was ecstatic, of course, and the vigor returned to her voice once again. Nicholas spent the rest of his day nodding, shaking his head, or shrugging. He kept hoping she would run out of things to talk about, but she never did.
That night, Isabel searched her daughter out. When she found her bothering Nicholas, she apologized to both the boy and Cecilia, and gave Mary a sharp scolding as she brought her to her room. Mary frowned, her shoulders drooping as her mother talked on about disappointment and what a bad little girl she was.
“I just want to play with someone, Mommy,” she eventually put in, her voice hoarse from all her talking.
Isabel looked down in shock, and her anger melted away quite quickly. She sighed. “It’s alright. Just let the poor boy be a little.”
Mary looked up at her mother with a frown, grabbing her hand as she did so. “I thought you said he wasn’t poor.”
Isabel laughed, and Mary frowned some more, trying to figure out the current status of Nicholas’ wealth or lack thereof.
