"That's the ship," he said, pointing to it, "That's Sparrow!"

Abijam shared a glance with the Captian and back at his father. His eyes darted as if he were trying to examine his surroundings.

"I don't see anyone on the ship."

"Oh! That's because Sparrow is docked, and Captain Jacques has no orders to go back at sea," the captain explained.

"Orders? Nevermind that. Have you seen a woman who has similar features to us? Except she has dark red hair with black highlights."

"Unfortunately, I have not, but you can ask people in town," the captain replied, pointing to the cobblestone street.

Abijam nodded and firmly shook the man's hand. He shifted to face his father as he began to walk near the busy road. His eyes practically popped out seeing the beautiful architecture ahead of him.

The rhythmic echo of horse hooves rolled through the street, harmonizing with the rumble of carriages and the hum of city life. Overwhelmed with the newfound sensations, Abijam spun in circles, immersing himself in this unexplored world.

The sound of happy children filled the air, their infectious energy lifting the spirits of those around them. Abijam strolled confidently on the sidewalk as people of all ages passed him. 

Abijam observed the men in tailored suits, complete with top hats, to create a structured silhouette. The suits featured fitted jackets with broad shoulders, high-buttoned vests, and tailored trousers.

 Filled with wonder he gazed upon a group of women he had never seen before, dressed in exquisite clothing. Their attire consisted of long skirts adorned with pleating or ruffled details, tailored bodices, high necklines, puffed sleeves, gloves, parasols, and elaborate hats with various head accessories.

"Abijam? Are you listening to me?" 

His father's voice echoed in his preoccupied thoughts, examining the townspeople's attire. He briskly faced his father with a twinkle in his vast brown eyes. His lips curved into an enthusiastic smile. 

"I apologize, Father. Have you ever visited a place as beautiful as this?"

Abijam remained silent. Ambudhi's mouth was agape but abruptly shut. Abijam felt his father's hand on his shoulder and pulled him to start walking.

"We are on a mission! Not on a vacation! You must remember that, Son." 

"I understand. I wonder if Arieshell has adventures in these shops?" 

"I wouldn't put that past her. Not to mention with all these wonderful smells," replied Ambudhi. 

Abijam suddenly stopped walking as the irresistible aroma of freshly baked goods hit him. He couldn't resist the temptation. His senses were overwhelmed by the sweet smell that seemed to be calling out to him from a nearby bakery.

He walked to an immense window with a gorgeous manmade wooden frame stretching around the ancient building. Abijam pressed his face into the misty window, observing the sweets on the tables. 

After a few seconds, Abijam glanced up at a wooden sign hanging above the door. The sign read: Bun Boutique. A slight watery liquid leaked from his mouth. 

"Father! Look at this!" he exclaimed. 

"Abijam, what has gotten into you," he paused, turning to the shop. "Son, remember our mis-" 

"I know! I have a sensation we should go here." 

He watched as Father frustratingly crossed his arms. Abijam understood he was eager to find his sister, but he couldn't resist the opportunity to taste whatever he smelled wafting from the bakery. 

Ambudhi raised his arms. "Alright! Let's go inside, but then we must start locating Arieshell." 

Abijam's wide smile beamed. "I'll go get the door!" 

Abijam's fingers wrapped around the circular knob and smiled at the entrance as he eagerly twisted the knob, causing a tiny ring from a bell hanging above the door.  

As he briskly walked into the quaint shop, his father cautiously followed suit. An older man appeared from a backroom behind the counter. The man had slicked back his brown hair into a neat ponytail. A few strands of gray hairs glistened from the window's sunlight. 

The man gave the two men a warm, welcoming smile. 

"Bonjour! Bienvenue dans la boutique Bun! Comment puis-je vous aider aujourd'hui?" The man asked, in a cheerful tone. 
Translation: "Hello! Welcome to Bun Boutique! How may I assist you today?"

Abijam gulped and glanced at his father for assistance. At last, his father motioned for him to be hushed. 

"Bonjour! Mon fils est tombé sur votre boulangerie et a voulu goûter vos meilleures friandises," replied Ambudhi.
Translation: "My son came across your bakery and wanted to try your finest sweets."

The man clapped his hands together. "Oh! Merveilleux! Je recommanderais du pain chocolat."
Translation: "Oh! How wonderful! I would recommend some bread with chocolate melted in the middle.

"Oui, il va adorer ça," he answered. 
Translation: "Yes, he will love that."

"Excellent choix, Monsieur. Je vais le réchauffer pour toi," Maurice replied, as he rung up the price. 
Translation: "Excellent choice, sir. I'll warm it up for you."

While Maurice swiftly grabbed the small piece of bread, Abijam's eyes darted at the fresh baked goods positioned neatly in a line. He began to feel a sense of warmth and comfort; a foreign emotion he never discovered. 

Father would shun me if he found my new gratitude for Humans. I don't perceive them as threats like he does. Arieshell could have a point. 

The faint ding from the bell snapped Abijam out of his abnormal thoughts. He found himself drawn to face the man or woman who had entered. Instead, he had been greeted by two older men who could pass as the same age or older as his father and the shopkeeper. 

"Bonjour. Que puis-je t'offrir aujourd'hui?" the man asked. 
Translation: "Hello. What can I get you today?" 

The chill in the Baker's voice was palpable, sending shivers down Abijam's spine like a gust of icy wind on a winter's day. Abijam narrowed his eyebrows bewildered by the baker's sudden change in demeanor.

Taken aback by a sinister and malicious chuckle,  Abijam's entire body felt rigid as a brick wall. 

"Oh, Maurice! That's not how you treat your Majesty." 

"Oh! I apologize," Maurice rolled his eyes. "Good day, your Majesty. What can I get you today?" 

Abijam silently watched the slim and soaring man. His posture bore an intense obsession with control and craving. His short curly hair was brushed neatly revealing his light icy blue eyes. 

He felt another chill run through his body as the man investigated in his direction. Abijam gulped as the man's lips curled into a horrendous smile. 

"Oh! I didn't see you had other customers." he lifted his hand. "Let me introduce myself. I am King Henry Knight, the current Ruler of England, and you are?" 

His accent had an affluent tone which made Abijam frozen in his tracks. He looked at Henry stunned. 

Abijam gradually replicated Henry's action, shaking his hand. 

"Pardon my forwardness but why are you in Beaulieu-Sur-Mer? Shouldn't you be on the throne, assisting your residents?"

Ambudhi jerked Abijam behind him and proceeded to greet Henry. 

"Apologies, my son here doesn't know his manners." 

Taken aback, Abijam shared an apprehensive glance at Maurice. He then peered behind Henry's shoulder to see a similar-looking man. He appeared nervous as if concealing a secret. Similar to Henry, the man had grey hair. 

 "Oh! Silly me," Henry cheered. "This is my good friend, Wilbur Whershie." 

Abijam smiled as he took his time observing the man. He had sharp, chiseled-like features. His posture, though skittish, had a sense of elegance and poise. Wilbur's eyes were set deep and had a natural narrowness to them. His beard appeared to have been tousled as if someone had been playing with it.

"It's nice to meet you!" Wilbur declared. 

"Anyway, what's your name?" Henry asked. 

"My-"

"Ambudhi, er," he paused. "Ambudhi Everett! Oh, and Abijam." 

Maurice cleared his throat. "I hate to break up the conversation but what can I get you? I assume Wilbur is getting one of my baked goods." 

Wilbur nodded as he took a step toward the counter. "Do you have the chocolate croissant? I want to get it for Belle." 

Maurice excitedly nodded. "I do! I recently put one in for this young gentleman. I was unsure if you would come today, but I have two ready!" 

"How wonderful!" 

Maurice grabbed one out and placed the piping hot bread on a small sheet, then, grabbed another one and repeated the same action. Abijam noticed him pressing certain buttons. He heard a faint ding. 

"That will cost one in half Franc, please." 

Abijam swallowed. "W-we don't have those." 

Ambudhi chuckled. "He meant we forgot them back in our hometown. My daughter ran away from home in a hurry. We've been looking everywhere for her." 

"Oh! It's no worries. I can pay for that," offered Wilbur. 

"No, no! We need to get going anyways." 

"May I ask, what does your daughter look like?" asked Henry. 

"She has red hair with black highlights. She's shorter than us with beautiful blue eyes," answered Ambudhi.  

Henry cocked his head. "What a strange description. We have not seen a young woman matching what you've described." 

"That's alright. We will find her." 

Amidst his father's chatter with Henry, Abijam glanced outside at the window. He watched the horses elegantly standing still waiting for their owner's return. A foot appeared on the other side of the carriage- just enough for Abijam to catch a glimpse. 

A young man suddenly ran from the carriage. He swiftly entered the bakery. Abijam stared blankly at the panting man. 

"James! I told you to stay in the carriage!" Henry roared. 

"I apologize, Your Highness, but I have recently received unsettling news," James replied. 

Henry gave Wilbur, Maurice, Abijam, and his father a gesture that he would only be a minute. Abijam gulped as he witnessed Henry walk outside the bakery. His chest felt heavy. 

Abijam scrutinized Henry's aggressive nature as he angrily pushed the man around. 

"He's taunting the boy," Maurice exclaimed. 

"Excuse me?" He asked. 

Maurice huffed. "Your Mastey has a temper. His emotions are like a wild boar." 

Wilbur let out a nervous chuckle, his eyes darting around the room. "Sometimes he acts like that but I can assure you, he is such a nice gentleman." 

Maurice's eyebrows narrowed. "You! Monsieur Whershie! You are holding your daughter captive! You and Henry are brutes!" 

Before Wilbur could protest, Henry returned. James had his head down, ashamed. Abijam unconsciously retreated to Maurice's counter, while sweat dripped down his forehead.

Henry's eyes had a glare as he tenderly licked his lips. 

"I hate to cut this conversation short but we need to leave. Wilbur come," he ordered. 

"What's going on? Belle's home alone! We need to rush home!" disclosed Wilbur. 

"I know!" Henry barked. "I was informed that my nephew escaped the asylum! Now, I need to figure out how to discard him and his best friend forever." 

"Hold on," said Wilbur as he handed Maurice the money. "Keep the change." 

As the deafening silence lingered, Abijam's heart raced with anxiety. His father bolted after the men without a second thought, leaving Abijam in the dust. What's happening? Every second seemed to be passing faster than I could comprehend.

He felt a hand on his shoulder pulling him backward. 

"Listen to me closely, Son. If you want to reunite with your sister, follow my guidelines. King Henry cannot be trusted as he is cruel to everyone and cares only for himself. He desires power and corruption," Maurice exclaimed. 

"How do I know I can trust you?" 

"Arieshell, that's your sister's name, correct?" 

"Yes, but how do you know-" 

"Did you see the ships? I'm asking because you have a sailor uniform on." 

"Captian Jacques," Abijam whispered. "You mean he was here?" 

Maurice nodded. 

"W-where is she? Is she alright?" 

"She is more than alright. I am a personal friend of his. He won't harm her. You have my word." 

"Abijam! Come, Henry and Wilbur offered to take us to their house," yelled his father. 

"You said, not to trust Henry. Can I trust Wilbur?" 

Maurice bit his lip. "It's hard to say, he is a victim like his daughter, Belle. However, it would be wise to keep your guard up." 

Abjiam glanced at the carriage. It had a nice sleek color black with gold trim running along its edges. He felt Maurice's grasp loosen. As Abijam walked toward the exit, Maurice spoke up once more. 

"Oh! I would recommend not giving away your siren heritage." 

Abijam gulped as he looked in Maurice's direction. "How did you know-" 

"Shh! Hurry along! You do not want to keep Henry waiting." 

Before Abijam could allow himself to enter outside, he had one final question. 

"Why did you stop speaking in your native language?"  

The corners of Maurice's mouth pulled down, forming a slight frown as a look of disappointment or dissatisfaction crossed his face. 

"The King hates when he doesn't understand what people are saying." 

"Thank you for your time and this bread." 

Maurice only gave Abijam a sorrowful nod. 

Without a second thought, Abijam departed from the bakery and walked toward the carriage. The optimism he felt was replaced with a sense of dread. 

"Abijam!" Ambudhi greeted. "What took you so long?" 

"Maurice and I were having a little chat. It was nothing, I was curious about his shop." 

"How about we continue this in the carriage," suggested Ambudhi. 

"I guess you're right." 

"After you!" his father gestured.