STABLE BOY ; Trash of the Count's Family

27. HONEY TOAST

"...is that for the Young Master?"

"Yes?"

South stared at Hans in the kitchen. He'd come here in the morning to steal some bread or something from the stale pile for a quick breakfast— but there Hans was, making lemon tea.

"You want some?"

South decided why not. It was sour, and while he wasn't a hater of sour flavours, this lemon tea tasted like someone made sure it would strip away all the oils of his tongue on the way down his throat.

Hans chuckled at the sight of him puckering in disgust.

"I'll get you some honey, don't make that face," he assured. "How unusual. There are times when even you are picky with food, huh?"

South choked down some stale bread, trying to get rid of the taste that lingered on his tongue. "It just reminds me of spoiled fruit. I can still drink it."

"What on earth have you been eating— actually don't answer me," Hans said, "come on, you can have the softer bread, too. The maids baked all this last night."

"I'm fine," he wrenched his teeth through the stale bread again. This stuff would probably go to the horses, but South wondered if he could get some stuff and make french toast or something with all this...

"I know you were never taught table manners, but it hurts my heart," Hans sighed. "Sheesh. You eat like a horse."

South didn't hesitate, "that's because I'm half-horse, Hyung."

-

"...it's sweet."

"Yes, Young Master," Hans said. "Is it not to your liking?"

"No, it's tolerable," Cale told him. He finished his tea rather slowly today, taking his time to enjoy it for once. It was definitely the right choice to send Ron away— a day without that harassment was doing wonders for his mental health.

It was afternoon, and thus Hans went to get lunch up to the room as Cale talked to Rosalyn. The Black Dragon settled on the table as well.

"What is that?"

"It's mine!" he was very protective of the little cube of— is that french toast? Around his hands. "The cold human gave it to me! It belongs to this Great Dragon!"

Cale paused at that.

First of all, who is the cold human? There weren't many that the Black Dragon even approached at all. Who other than Choi Han?

Which led to the next question— where are the kittens? They ran off before he'd woken up today, so Cale assumed they were with South...

...ah, South.

"Why is he the cold human?"

"He is very cold!" he declared. "He is so pathetic, he can't even warm himself up at night! So the Great Me helps him not catch a cold! Aren't I so benevolent?"

Cale wondered who taught this child that word.

On second thought, he'd rather not know. The only source of language for this poor child was Venion Stan, so there wasn't really anything to wonder about.

"Right," Cale decided, "you're very benevolent, oh Great Dragon. The stable boy must be so grateful he gave you that offering in thanks."

"Yes! I am! And yes it is! It was kept aside just for me!"

Right. Let's not wonder how the stable boy got access to french toast today. But maybe that explained why the lemon tea was sweet, too. Today was apparently a 'use a lot of honey' kind of morning. That was nice.

It was definitely a sign of peace to be indulging in honey-soaked toast in the morning.

"The stablehand..." Rosalyn murmured, "the one that was with Mama, yes?"

What the hell is she talking about? "Pardon?"

"Ah no–! Nothing you need to concern yourself with!" Rosalyn amended, bashfully. "Just... you keep some odd men around you, Young Master."

Cale scoffed in amusement. "You must be talking about yourself. Or Choi Han, perhaps?"

Rosalyn thought about it, and she decided resolutely that she was not.

"Don't do that," Cale told the dragon, when he began licking his fingers, "you'll get it all sticky— look at your mouth. Come here."

Rosalyn watched as Cale wiped the dragon's mouth clean and then went through each claw on his paw, the honey having gotten everywhere— and she decided, once again, that Cale Henituse was weird.

No in a bad way, but still.

-

After that, Coachman Leon took Cale out to Count Whilsman's estate, where there was a meeting with the Northeast nobles. South followed to help him out.

They dropped Cale off, and agreed to come back in two hours to pick him up after the meeting and meal was done. Until then, the empty carriage will be driven around the capital city, just as a posturing to indirectly inform the citizens that the Henituse have arrived. Just to keep people talking about the event coming up.

Coachmen have to do weird things sometimes. Politics are weird.

"Ah, while you're out, arrange for Basen and Lily's gifts." Cale told South that, and South couldn't stop the words coming from his mouth.

"All due respect Young Master, I refuse."

Cale stared at him, baffled.

After a long moment of wagering the weight of his paycheck against his willingness to remain alive on this mortal plane, South admitted, "I'm not taking that back. Go get your siblings' souvenirs yourself."

Cale wanted to sigh, "one day that tongue is going to get you in trouble."

And South beamed, "that's why I have you, Young Master!"

Cale immediately told him, "you're starting to take after Hans. Stop that."

"No."

"Oi."

Coachman Leon whacked South on the back of the head. "Don't worry Young Master, I will stick by his side all day today."

"You better. He's freaked out Hans twice now by coming back unconventionally," Cale said dryly. Seriously, the first time he came back bloody, the second time he came back riding a horse. What will he do next? "Put him on a leash if you have to."

"Yes, Young Master!"

"Oi," this time South was offended.