Laura's POV:
"A ball is like a party where everyone comes to dance and celebrate." I picked Beryl up and answered her question patiently.
Beryl tilted her head to the side and thought for a while. Then she pouted and wrapped her little arms around my neck. "Can I come?"
Amused by her behavior, I tried to let her down easy. "You're too young, child. You can attend the ball when you're all grown up."
Frowning, Beryl asked in confusion, "But why? I also want to dance and celebrate with everyone. Grandma, are you going to choose a Mommy for me? What about that lady in the mask? Isn't she my mother?"
Faced with Beryl's never-ending questions, I felt a bit of a headache. I didn't know how to explain it to Beryl, so I simply said, "She'll always be your mother, Beryl."
While saying that, I stroked her beautiful braid and smiled. "When the wound on your head is healed, you'll remember everything and then you'll understand."
Beryl nodded even though she probably didn't quite understand me. Fortunately, she didn't insist on going to the ball.
"Are you hungry? Let's go and find something to eat."
Beryl cheered up instantly. "Eat! Eat! I want pizza!" I took her to the dining room and asked the cooks to make two pizzas. Beryl's eyes darted between the two pizzas, unsure which one to eat first.
I looked at her dotingly and explained, "These are all for you. You can eat both of them."
"But I can't eat that much..." Beryl patted her belly. She scowled slightly, as though picking a pizza was the most difficult choice she had to make.
Seeing this, I couldn't help but laugh. I took the knife and fork, cut a slice from both pizzas, and then put the pieces together. "Look, this way, you can eat both flavors and won't be too full."
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