Prologue
“Oh, daddy, but why? Why again? It’s my birthday!” She whined, clutching her thread bare tinker to her chest. Her tinker was her most prized possession, easily her favorite among the stuffed creatures tucked in among her story books on her bedroom shelves. He was gray, long since faded to a questioning shade of brown in a few places; mainly the ends of his digited fingers where she grasped him to take him along on their adventures. His opaque eyes had been stripped down to just a basal white film that stared hauntingly out of soulless eyes. His feet, also questionably stained despite the many washes he had gone through, were rounded in simple feet. Simple, nondescript rounded robot feet. He was a bot that had stolen her heart from the day he had been pulled out of a box amidst ripped pink paper and a silken powder pink bow. The squeal that had erupted after opening the tinker and lifting him free of the delicate tissue paper had promised that a little girl had found her dreams come true.
Jefferson sighed, lifting a large hand to push his round glasses further up the bridge of his nose. Raking his fingers through his mocha brown hair, the tips tickled the arch of his ears while he racked his brain for a response. His opposite hand clutched a stack of well worn educational texts, a few odd pages of paper filled with notes stuck out of various places in the set of books crushed against his chest. Sucking his bottom lip in for a moment, he studied his daughter’s sapphire eyes. She had acquired her stunning shade of blue from her mother. Ah, her dear mother. She was the very reason why he couldn’t spend as much time with Anyara as she wanted him to. Her mother was dead, and he would rather stare at the texts he had spent his life building than to look into the eyes of his wife now brought to life in the porcelain face of his own daughter. Her hair too was thick, dark and fell in waves down her back. That, that she had gotten from him. It framed her angelic face and made his heart squeeze as he swallowed past the constriction in his throat.
“Darling I will make it up to you, I promise!” He finally chimed, trying to force more positivity into his tone than he currently felt himself. His gut knotted as he tacked on, “Take Mr. Tinker for another walk out back and I will be back after bed time. Ms. Nitta will care for you until then.” He said, stroking his broad palm over the crown of her head. His fingers snagged on a tiny tangle and for a moment, just for a moment, he considered staying. Considered taking her into the center of their tiny town to pick out yet another shining gown with full flowing skirts and silk bows to tie into her hair. He almost contemplated staying home and rolling up his sleeves to season and roast a slab of venison before rolling it into delicate, paper thin dough for supper. Her favorite. Tiny tarts with frosted flowers on top, tea cakes she had informed him the first time they had indulged in them when she could finally -properly- use words. A fine supper for an even finer birthday princess. He knew that the roiling in his gut had nothing at all to do with the nut butter sandwich he had consumed hours earlier. It had nothing to do with the tankard of ale he had poured down his throat on his walk home late that morning from the University. Just to take the edge off. Another birthday without his dearest Adriada with them. Another birthday for his dearest Any, that he wouldn’t be a part of.
He could see the tears welling in her eyes, her watery little cobalt gaze as she clutched the tinker beneath her chin that she attempted to hold high. He spotted Ms. Nitta’s form as she stepped into the doorway of the kitchen, twisting her fingers into her filthy apron to stench the awful feeling that was gutting her. Anyara took a deep breath to settle herself, straightened her spine and lifted her eyes once more to meet her father’s. Ever the picture of strength in the face of her sorrow. Even as a fat tear dripped down her cheek she said, “It’s okay daddy, I understand. Six is not so old after all, I will have so many more birthdays for you to attend. We can make it even better, a party fit for a king!” She trilled, rocking onto the balls of her feet. He smiled and reached down to pat her rosy cheek as a second tear slipped down, the last tear that would fall until after he left.
“That’s exactly right, my darling Any. But never a party fit for a king. A party fit for a princess.” He murmured, brushing his thumb along the arc of her cheek before he brushed a feather light kiss to the center of her forehead and whisked out the door. Down, down, down the dirt path in the direction of the university. The door snapped shut behind him well before her whispered words passed her lips.
“I love you daddy.”
