Snippet #1303536

"CRASH!"
Croix sneered at the sound of the shattered glass. He really didn't want the first mistake he made to be in the beginning of the day.

"Boy, don't just STAND there gazing at the dishware! It's not going to pick itself up!"
"Sorry Ma'am...!" Croix replied to the woman that was in charge of the kitchen. He rushed to the other end of the room, picking up a washcloth and running back to the scene of the accident. He knelt down to the floor and tried to pick up the pieces with his bare hands, not aware of the hazards.
"Croix, Croix, Croix! You don't pick up broken glass with you fingers!" The woman shrieked, practically throwing a broom at him. Croix took the broom and began to sweep the remainder of the dishes up without a word. "Honestly Croix...every day you break at least something. I don't know what to do with you - the horse keeper doesn't want you, the blacksmith wont even let me mention your name, you destroy all the dishes in the house, spill the water while cleaning, what are you good for?!"

Croix hung his head at her words. "Do I even know myself? Has there ever been a time I was good at something?" He thought to himself sympathetically. You could see that his broom strokes got slower as he thought about his own worth. The woman stared at him for a few seconds, then sighed with a loud exhale. "Listen Croix, how about you leave this to me. The royal family is about to wake up and we have to hurry, so how about you just get some fresh air." You could hear the hesitation in the womans' voice, but something had to be done. Almost before she could finish saying anything else, Croix looked up at her with the most radiant smile, handed her the broom, and ran out of the kitchen. The woman watched him for a second, then turned back to the kitchen and directed the rest of the cooks in it. "Really, that boy is something else." She smirked while shaking her head.

Croix was heading outside where he always liked to visit, the patch by the small pond and the willow. As childish as one may think, Croix sometimes swung on the old and tattered swing that was hung on the old tree. But most of all, in the night he liked to gaze at the stars in the area. When he was here, he felt so free and calm. Before Croix could even begin to think about anything, he sat down on a soft patch of grass and lay silently. Then he started thinking.