Henry listened intently. Her accent was funny, making her voice sound sort of lyrical to his ears. It reminded him a little of Belle’s and he wondered how the other girl was doing. No doubt she was off somewhere with her nose in a book. But now wasn’t the time to wonder about anyone else, he needed to focus on what Marguerite had to say. It was the polite thing to do and he did find her own stories to be pretty interesting.
“I bet you’ll find something to do in no time,” he told her, still smiling, and meaning every word. It took a lot to knock the hopefulness out of him and there was little doubt in his mind that anyone here could do what they put their mind to doing. “I want to learn about the revolution and tell you about superheroes but we can talk about plays, too.”
After all, plays were just stories in a different form and Henry loved those. He wasn’t picky about how they were told, though he probably would always prefer them in paper form because then his imagination was in charge of how things looked. Though he did like to see how others imagined what they read and plays were a good way of seeing stories reborn. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen one though and briefly wondered if maybe that was something he could do with Emma. Would his mom like plays? He wasn’t sure. He didn’t know too much about what she liked and hoped that would change now that he was here and could get to know her better.