A Doll Lament

Chapter 1

In the back of a dim merchants shop, a doll maker works on his final creation. A child sized porcelain doll, custom built with a voicebox. The first of her kind, specially crafted for an English Earl. Growing weary the old man mumbles to himself as he works, taking great care in placing the voicebox within his prized creation. Caressing the cool porcelain of it's cheek he murmurs.  "Ma bella création." 1. Meticulously he dresses the doll in a delicate white and yellow frock, with a vibrant red sash. Adding a matching red bow to her long cascading golden locks, whilst fixing her flowing hair a chime is heard from the storefront.  Steadily making his way out to greet his customer,  the merchant smiles meekly bowing to the Earl. "Bastian my good sir, how is she?" The Earl boisterously voiced. "Tre bien my Lord." The meek merchant says in hopes to please his favorite customer. With a good natured wave of his hand. "Then go fetch her for me, so I may admire your work before giving her to my daughter." The Earl requests.  "But of course Lord Octavious." Bastian replies in his thick french accent, returning not long after. Doll in his arms, gently placed upon the countertop. "She is a beauty no? Just like your countess, she was the most beautiful woman." Bastian muses. Lord Octavious smiles sadly at the doll, fondly petting her soft curls. He looks with longing to her innocent blue eyes. "Yes..you did exquisite, your best work yet Bastian. So delicate, reminds me of her so. Henrietta will adore her, thank you Bastian." The Earl sighs tearing his gaze from the enchanting doll as it's placed in a satin box for the servant to carry. "Merci beaucoup, it has been an honor my Lord." Bastian bows, locking up after they leave. With a smile full of sorrow the old merchant knows his time is running out.
1. My  beautiful creation.