Raising a Hero

Chapter 17

My original plan of saving up for a house with the earnings I got from the inn was proving to be a bust. Since room and board were already included in my pay, what Hal could spare outside that, while not slave's pay, wasn't substantial enough to get me a place of my own anytime soon. Not to mention Gus's held-back growth spurt was coming back with a vengeance, thanks to my careful administrations with my magic, and he was never full. While Hal and Milly were fine just telling him to wait until the next meal, I knew intrinsically what was going on with his stunted body and put all my meager earnings towards filling that.

He protested. But when I told him it'd take me at least forty years for me to save up for the kind of place I wanted in which to raise babies, and that didn't include the money I'd need to pay for servants to take care of minor things so I could focus on baby rearing (and there was the whole thing about how to have an income while I was living there), he acquiesced.

Still, it was awfully fast for the naggy, overprotective teen.

"Are the hunger pains really that bad?" I had asked in concern.

He shook his head, mouth full of chicken leg even as we spoke. "I want to be a man as soon as possible, and one with serious muscles."

I sniffed an opportunity for fun. "Oh, muscles, is it? Whatever for?"

"What else?" he took another ravenous bite of chicken, tearing what was left from the bone.

"Are you actually interested in girls now?"

He rolled his eyes. "Muscles are used for more than attracting girls, stupid."

"Sure, sure. You just want muscles to swing swords and beat the bad guys to save the girls."

"Stop talking to me like I'm five. And I know what you're doing, I'm not letting you toy with me."

"So you're into guys then?"

He coughed on the last bit of chicken in his throat, thumped his chest, and glared at me.

"Does that mean you're into girls just because you're not chasing after a guy?"

I sighed. "Ugh, you really are no fun. You're supposed to flail and blush and be all like 'I like girls! I like girls a lot!'"

"Well sorry to burst your bubble," and he actually puffed out his skinny chest then a bit. "I've matured. So stop acting so childishly."

I laughed. I laughed hard. Especially since Gus didn't even look like a teenager.

Gus did all the scowls. "Could you not?"

But I just puffed out my chest like he did, lifting my chin to make a mocking imitation of his expression. "Surely. I've matured. Such childish acts are beneath me."

He threw the chicken bone at me and stomped away.

"Milly! Give me something to do before I punch Lilly."

"Mature men don't hit girls!" I crowed after him.

Sadly, he didn't retort back, sad being because I had the perfect comeback for if he did.

But he was, in part, correct. Gus had seemingly had an epiphany of sorts and wasn't as bristly or quick to rise as he had been. Yes, he still nagged the life out of me about talking to the patrons or smiling too much or going shopping on my own, and the list goes on. I still found moments to tickle at his hard-built pride. But he didn't insult me so much. He didn't snarl at me. And he never again said he hated me or wanted me out of his life.

The chicken coop came in, along with a small flock of chickens. My new pastime became chicken watching and seeing what I could poke into the wire for them to eat.