Marc's Pleaded

"May I hold the butterfly?" Leonor said to Marc after unknowingly entering Marc's room when the door was not fully closed.

Leonor sat on the edge of Marc's bed, occupying the space on Marc's right. He gently caresses the butterfly wings. Leonor quickly shifted her seat, choosing the long sofa attached to the end of the bed. She shuffled in annoyance.

"I doubt what Sebastian said," Marc mumbled after allowing the long silence to become their friends –his friend.

Leonor turned around, glaring in disgust; she said sarcastically, "Then what's that got to do with me? He's your best friend, Your Majesty."

"Weren't you just wandering around the palace when the humans entered?" asked Marc.

"Then? So what?"

Marc let go of the beautiful butterfly from his hand, let it fly freely in the room, then sat facing Leonor, who was still shuffling, annoyed, staring at him intently without blinking.