Painted Doll Cradle Novels & Stories

One by one, bags were placed by the servants on her bed and Mayra just stood there staring at Tanya confusingly. Tanya chuckled and gestured for her to wait. At last, two servants came in holding a beautiful cradle and placed it beside the study table. Mayra grinned watching it and instantly rushed towards it to see. It was the most beautiful thing Mayra had ever seen. The white cradle had a silver net dragging from the top with stars hanging on it. The bedding was soft and it had two silversides which were adjustable. Mayra just stood there and checked it thoroughly for the baby.

Also a toy chest. The knickknacks are pastel balloons and puffs of cotton candy and more rainbows. The mural on the far wall, opposite where I’m standing, represents the awe-inspiring visual of the front of the palace. There is a crib positioned here. Not just any crib, of course. It is regal-looking, with mauve, velvety-tufted enhancements, made even more ostentatious because of the shimmery sheer-and-damask canopy flowing from a mounted light on the wall in the 3D-shape of a bejeweled crown. The bedding is lux and there are more playful animals and extra, folded, ecru satin-quilted blankets.

Not hers. My hands started shaking. 'Are they selling off coma patients' bodies?' All those stories from school came flooding back. My skin crawled. I fought the nausea and fear, forced myself to finish cleaning her up. I was about to leave when I saw it—the music box on her nightstand. Ms. Deinert had told me not to mess with it. But my hand moved anyway. I popped it open. No music. Just velvet at the bottom. Then I saw it—tiny crumbs near the edge. Crackers, maybe?

Powders. There is a mobile hanging over the crib. It isn't plastic animals. It is crystals. Tiny, faceted crystals that catch the light from the hallway and scatter rainbows across the yellow walls. Spadino. Only Spadino would hang diamonds over a baby. I sink to the floor. I sit on the cream rug. I cover my mouth with my hand. They knew. They all knew. Or they hoped. Or they suspected. And they didn't prepare a cage. They didn't prepare a prison.

He stops in front of the door next to my room. “I know, but I didn’t want to ask for more. I have already been given so much.” I begin but he stops me by putting a finger on my lips. He turn me around towards the door and motioned for me to open the door. I do as told, losing my breath. The scent of new paint, it’s from the new light blue painted walls decorated with skies, rainbows. Trees and wolves playing. The room is full of everything a nursery needs. Two cradles extra big changing table with extra high sides, that makes sure the can’t roll off it. And black big soft chair stands by the window. There are chest drawers for their clothes and some extra ones for other things that need to b

The room smelled of new paint, fresh wood. The walls were painted in soft cream, and across one of them were scattered tiny golden stars, hand-painted. Two white cribs stood side by side, identical in every way, each tied with pink satin bows. Above each crib hung delicate mobiles that slowly spun, playing a gentle lullaby. A rocking chair sat by the large window, enclose with a cozy baby blanket. On the opposite wall, floating shelves held colorful baby books, tiny shoes, and folded blankets. A large round rug lay in the center of the room, decorated with moons and stars.

Reading to them. Old Virel stories. Kael joined in. Bad voices and all. The servants said they could hear them from the hall. No one complained. THE PAINTING Kael surprised her. On the wall above the crib. A painting. Not fancy. Just colors. Two small figures. One boy. One girl. Holding hands. Under blue torches. “I’m not good,” Kael said, rubbing the back of his neck. “It’s perfect,” Lyra said. And meant it.

Narrator- Alpha Asher backed away from the handmade crib, and stood at a distance with his arms crossed, as he admired his handiwork. The crib was painted white, the wood itself included carved images of wolves, stars, and the different phases of the moon. Asher smiled proudly, as he looked around the room decorated with shades of blue and yellow. The furnished space had everything necessary for a nursery, plush toys sat atop every furniture, and a mobile spun above the crib, with tiny wolves, moons, and pine trees. There was a nursing chair sitting in the corner next to the crib. There was also a small shelf, packed with books and bedtime stories.

Calla's POV: The room had once been sterile—cold marble floors, white curtains, and an unnervingly clinical row of dolls with identical porcelain faces staring blankly from a shelf. But now? It looked like something out of a fairytale. I stood barefoot on a Persian rug I had hauled in from the east wing, hands on my hips, paint smudged on my cheeks as I stared at my masterpiece. There were now murky green walls, splashed with muted gold vines. Floating shelves held odd little ceramic foxes, thrifted fairytale books, and a crystal orb I picked up at an antique store on my way home

Nick looked on in disbelief. In front of him, piles of dolls filled almost half the lobby—of various sizes, colors, and shapes. Some were as tall as Luna's waist, while others were small and hung in transparent bags. Added to that was a plastic bag full of equally numerous room accessories, a rabbit-shaped night light, character pillows, and pastel-patterned blankets. Nick sighed deeply, his chest rising and down slowly. “She's really like a little kid!” He thought.