"I’m an expert, Zel,” Spencer assures the poofy blonde, grinning lopsidedly and nearly tripping over the coattails of his navy dress robes. “Which is why that dance move you just witnessed was so gosh darn perfect!”
"Oh yeah? Witness this," she says all in one breath, proceeding to
Zel squeals excitedly before she leans forward and whispers out of character “You nailed it!”, the weight of her headdress nearly tipping her over in the process.
"Your grace, I apologize. I seem to have forgotten my manners."
"I command you to rescind your… bullshit statement, squire.”
Whoa, babe alert.
My date has a stick up her ass.
"Jeremiah, you simply cannot speak to your monarch in such a crass manner. Besides, I am a royal. I must appear both apathetic and uncomfortable.”
"Oh what will I ever do without you? What will I tell the kids? Jetter’s gonna be so upset. This is all my fault. I should run away to Mexico. Maybe buy a bar and change my name or Carlos. Not the English way of saying Carlos. You gotta roll the ‘R’. Carrrrrrrlos. Do they have Cheerios in heaven?"
"Mmmm," she hums as she licks her dead lips, and whispers hotly, "Apple Jacks."
Jeremiah doesn’t manage to let out a single tear, but he wipes his face off anyway as he leans into Zel’s face. “What is it? Are you hurt? Are you going to tell me the meaning of life? What I should eat for breakfast tomorrow?”
In the faint whisper of a sickly woman, she breathes, “Tell the cats… I’ll be home… for Christmas,” and proceeds to die.
"I’m sorry love. I’ve been occupied with school and family matters. I am here now and ready to stalk you until your heart’s content."
She mulls his explanation over for a moment, but doesn’t seem to buy into it. “But am I not more important than both of those things? Combined?”