Ch 123: Juggle and Fetch
"Home wwecker!"
My sister points out in great excitement, getting off her creepy toy stuffed horse. One of those things Father nonchalantly bought across windows and displays whenever Lilyanne points and cutely says she wants it. We have quite a bit of crap piled up. It can't be helped that she's going to grow up rich and spoiled but can she get some better tastes?
As my young assistant comes in with the rolling breakfast cart, I go back to counting my miscellaneous stack of coins. Separating out the differences between my personal savings and money that's to be used for investments while sitting cross-legged.
When an early breakfast is served in the bedroom that means neither Father nor Mother is around waiting for us to rise and dine. It's rare, given how sticky Mother tends to get or how early Father starts his workday, to make time, but it happens.
"No Lilyanne, that's not the homewrecker, that's just Georgie." I briefly look up from the bed.
If it was truly the homewrecker, my immediate response would be to hit and throw with the first thing available. Right now that's a pillow.
How comfortable, we can stay rolling around barefoot in our little pajama dresses. Oh ho ho.
"What's a homewrecker?" Amar asks, munching on our breakfast.
Wait.
"Where did you come from?!!" I fling the pillow.
"Don't play around with food!" Georgie yells "you'll break something!"
Said pillow is quickly intercepted and rethrown back by my unfaithful assistant. Obviously the culprit in smuggling the mother and breakfast thief under the cart.
Amar blinks in questioning, spoon in his mouth. It's a very deadly sort of cute, the kind that seduced my own mother!
"Home wreaker!" Lilyanne shouts again in dissatisfaction, practicing her new vocabulary. She was right and she would appreciate me knowing it.
In fact, she forgoes the pillow throwing, like me, entirely, charging like a mad baby bull. Her signature move at this point really.
Unsurprisingly, Amar hits her with a piece of bread. He's much nicer than Lukas though, barely bopping her on the forehead with a brioche, before stuffing half the fluffy bread into her warm crying mouth.
"Don't bite? Good. "
Defeated by the power of sweet buttery carbs, my sister plops on the ground. Partly in tantrum defeat, partly to roll around with the deliciousness in her mouth. Mmmm brioches, such soft fancy white bread.
Like a puppy dog in training, she rolls over and up for torn pieces of bread that Amar tosses. Eventually hopping up to her seat at the little setup table, she's just missing bark and shaking hands.
I'm almost rolling in shame to be related to her, no matter how cute she is.
Yep, that's the Lilyanne I know alright.
"Where are you going now?" I change topics, putting away the organized money into my purse.
This is a high-class hotel, in the wealthiest area of town. The bread is rich and white, and the furniture and walls are gilded with more decoration than functionality in mind. We use pretty imported plates and silverware instead of trenchers. Even the servants are pressed and dressed their best in service.
So Amar's peasant gear, even in his durable little enchanted weatherproof cloak, stands out more than any wife stealing levels cute of a sailor suit.
"I'm not supposed to be here," he slurps, not really chewing at his porridge. "Vincent is coming to pick me up soon."
"Yuna coming with him?" Georgie asks, pouring the kid my strawberry milk as he finishes setting the table.
Breadbasket mostly filled with fat brioches. Sweet and savory jams, bowls of soft spreadable cheese, softly baked egg puddings, and filled flaky tarts. Tiny sausages and bit-sized cut fruits. Milk and juice, even my special strawberry mix. A grand spread for small children dining without any adults to impress.
"Uh huh." Amar nods, still slurping porridge.
"Got it. Making the take out box full of heavy crap, else he complains like nothing."
"This was yummy. Thank you." Amar blinks up to Georgie ruffling his hair before my assistant goes to call on the hotel kitchens.
That's when I finally noticed it. Not the change in clothes, or the fact that out of everything on this food table Amar still only eats some peasant porridge. But the fat scratch cutting across his cheek, red, splotchy and just healing with fresh scabs.
Oh, the horror, not the face! Not the cute kiddy face!
"What happened there?" I hop down and over.
Unlike my sister, I cannot be stopped with mere bread, no matter how tasty.
"Hmm?" the idiot plays dumb.
"Your face you dum dum! What did you do now?"
"Um, it's just a scratch? I was juggling. "
"....A juggling accident?"
"Yep."
He must take me and my sister, hell maybe even Lukas, to be on the same plane of IQ. How insulting. Can't be helped. Especially when no one tells me anything, ever.
"What? Were you juggling my father's bullets?"
It's unlikely, a leap of reasoning, but that's what my brain is telling me. All the parts and pieces long connecting.
I grab the kid by the chin near the back of his head to inspect further. Even though it's already partly healed and scabbed over, it's not a straight cut. Edges tearing out minutely from the momentum, following a direction. It's not stippling, but it's probably a graze made by a firearm by this even pattern tearing, and not a tough knife or even better, a juggling accident.
I forgot this is probably something a girl my age should not know. But I'm Rosalia Ventrella so who cares.
"I know what bullet wounds look like, idiot."
Despite my words, and unfortunately humorously high voice, this is not a joke. Even among the richest of the wealthy, it's difficult to get your hands on a gun, let alone quality made ones with accuracy and control. And this kid hasn't gone much anywhere when in my mother's claws all of yesterday.
Where oh where could this have happened, oh I wonder. Who could ever be so merciless as to shoot even a tiny homewrecker?
Wow. What a mystery.
"No? Kinda?" the kid half admits,
He stays very still, treating me as if I were the scary bear to play dead around now. How rude.
"What's in the porridge?" I ask, briefly looking down, but still very much inspecting the 'scratch'.
Kid's lucky. Father is a sadistic tease but he doesn't miss easily. Not unless on purpose.
"Um....almond milk, ground rice, dates....porridge stuff?... It's not poison or anything." Amar mumbles out the last part. Then like a child trying to figure out what to say to get into the least trouble, he clarifies. " Georgie made it. My mouth still hurts. "
Only by tasting it myself, Amar doing nothing to stop me, and not falling over foaming at the mouth do I confirm this statement to be the truth. And oh is that just delightful!
Holy moly what's the recipe in that? It's so delectably smooth and creamy, and the sweetness of the honey and dates is perfect. Mmmm almond milk you say? Bruet of Almaynne? This is good. Forget the rest of the table. Georgie better be coming back with a pot of this stuff.
Pudding porridge in one hand. Injured, again, minor hostage in another. What's your typical villainess of a girl to do?
"Yummy Rosa?" my sister stares and drools, always wanting my food over hers. Her cheeks still chock full of bread like some human squirrel.
"But no nom nom big bruder. Lily bite and den other big bruder bite back and Lily owie lots and cry lots and he bite more and ow. Dat a no no."
Somehow, I understood all that perfectly.
"Drink your milk and come over here Lily. Yes, wash down that...mouth." I encourage, wooing my sister over to the dark si- I mean my side of the table. Right after she stops being a squirrel.
"And you- stop being shot at and injured all the time." I pull at the minion, avoiding the injured cheek for an ear.
"I don't know how?" Amar somewhat reasonably complains, "It's not like I wanna get hit or hurt."
"Don't pull off weird jokes or pranks in front of him, like yesterday If my father wanted to actually shoot you dead, you already would be."
The kid pouts, making a noise of complaint. It sounds very much like "...big funny sore loser" that comes out of his hurting mouth, but for his own fragile life, I won't comment on that. Besides, it's absolutely true. The nerd is a big sore loser! I would know best for the suffering he puts me through.
But I'm still physically his daughter, a toddler still. He'll never be anywhere near serious to me.
"I don't care what weird unfair deal you made with him! Sneak around, eat your poison, I don't care. But you're just like a little squishable ant to him. Tiny! Weak! Super easy it's not even worth it to crush you. Don't mess around you brat! " I yell as quietly as I can at him, hoping to get it through Amar's thick skull.
It's a great difficulty to teach when my minion is already brain-damaged so young. It seems to be working, as the boy pouts even more.
I stay quiet as Lilyanne munches, watching the whole thing with flowery question marks and a growing milk mustache. At most she thinks we're playing a whispering game without her.
"Are you done with your milky and napkin Lily? Good girl. Who's a good girl?! Big sister has something yummy for you. Here Lily, here girl."
I clap repeatedly, training my sister how to come to me on command. It's a good thing she's food motivated. So convenient.
After rubbing her whole face on a cloth napkin, not yet very ladylike, she toddles over to where I have my minion held down. Holding out my hand with an assuring smile, I indicate for her to grasp it. Something she overshoots to go for a great big hug instead.
It will do for now I suppose.
"Lily! Did you know we all have special somethings we can do?! Big brother Georgie can make very yummy things, Amar can ...juggle... even big sister has lots of really cool things. But do you know what you can do?"
"Huggies! Lily gives huggies!" she responds in glee.
"....."
"You didn't call me big brother that time?" the boy looks even sadder.
"...."
Fools. All of them.
Dragging both of them down under the table, I flip the table cloth for privacy against any hidden guards. Who are doing a terrible job by the way if they let a kid sneak in, but hey maybe they've also been won over by the cuteness. I mean you gotta sorta like kids if you're on babysitting watch.
Nowadays you never know when the secret guards are around!
"There's only 2 right now? But they're not really listening or anything. Ow, my ear."
"Alright, good heads up." I nod and accept the unasked for answers.
Also, no one's ears would hurt if they just followed along like good little minions. Putting on my good big sister face again I clap and pat for Lilyanne to approach, taking my hands.
"Lily, big sister is going to teach you a very nice thing you can do!"
"Hold handsies?" she smiles back.
Oh, they're just so preciously cute when they're a little stupid. Let's aim to reduce the stupid to an acceptably adorable amount though. One that doesn't endanger my life in the future.
"Part of it!" I make to encourage her, raising her carefully.
That's right Lily, rely on big sister more and more. Don't grow up so uncute and blindly rebellious like last time, so easy for others to trick and fool. It's also a type of arrogance, a sin, to expect everything to go your way, catered to your little whimsies and wants.
"You've already played this game before with big sister! Sometimes, when you push just right, you can make owies go away. See~"
I pull over the lab rat. Lilyanne's only healing experiment thus far now that I think about it. What an honor for such a danger prone child.
A mob character even. How fortunate.
"...What's a mob?" Amar tilts his head the wrong way because I'm definitely pulling now.
"Lily, look! There's a big owie right here!"
Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.
"Big bruder's ear owie! We pullie?" Lily happily makes to drag the other side. Maybe being the petty little girl I know now she will never grow out of.
Ah, sorry about that minion. Please think twice before homewrecking someone else's easy to fool mother from now on. Her sticky daughter and villainous husband won't let you off so easily next time.
But surviving Mother is also its own great accomplishment. I shouldn't have been too hypocritical.
"Not quite Lilyanne."
I snap my fingers like a command, prompting her to let go short of dangling off my shaking minion. Taking both her hands again, I hold one out in a familiar motion. Hovering it right in front of Amar's face.
"Remember Lily? If you push, everyone's super happy! Look at that owie right there, looks painful right? You can do a very special thing by making that owie...uh better. Maybe not go away but...better. Can you do it with me? "
She makes a little cooing and gurgling sound, like the incomprehensible small creature that she is. While she doesn't seem to fully understand she's generally limp as I move her limbs, and pushes on command just like we're used to.
Just like before, her signature lights shine out. Fireflies floating over the gunshot graze, melting on the scratch until it was nothing but soft smooth skin again. Healing the trauma and forming bruises underneath.
"Look, Lily! you're doing soooooo good. Keep pushing, and you. Raise up your hands, both of them " I order, feeling another source of injury.
Like a child caught stealing from the cookie jar, Amar reluctantly does as told. Boxer bandages not doing all that great job of concealing the minute cuts on his fingers.
"Don't tell me, Juggling accident. "
"Yeah. Kinda?" he looks up, maybe in memory. "It's hard juggling and dodging at the same time."
I would think so yes. The little lights melt not only on fingertips but behind the bandages over palms and wrists, indicating some magic healing going on there. At least nothing else seems to be wrong. No broken bones or internal bleeding going on.
Though, if he was going to be sent off to wherever it is, even Father would think it unwise to break too much.
"No more owies?" my sister asks, voice chipper and excited.
"Amazing Lily~ Lilyanne is so nice and amazing, remember you can't just do this for anyone ok Lily. You must ask big sister first and we can fixie the owies for our friends and family" I lavish the praise on here, making her giggly and roll into my arms
Ah, they're so cute then they're like this. Unlike this one here.
"Don't make this a habit. Lilyanne’s special skill isn't free or easy, you know?" I follow up, harsh to remind him.
"Ok. Thank you, you didn't have to. That's not why I came over."
The kid flexes his hands and fingers, confirming all is well. Well, almost everything.
"Open your mouth," I command.
Despite just doing him another miraculous favor, he resolutely puckers and bites down on his lip, maybe in shame. It's hard figuring this kid out? They're just so much easier and cuter then they're a little stupid.
All children must lose their baby teeth eventually. You're like 6! No shame in it happening a bit sooner, accidents happen. Though it is embarrassingly adorable! Teeth gaps! The missing front teeth! I've seen it all month!
Ha! Try smiling without people laughing or cooing at that!
"Mmmmmpf." Amar shakes his head, whimpering and even daring to slightly glare at me.
Fine fine, I'll stop teasing.
"Come on! Open and let me see. It didn't fall out normally right? Now it hurts more? You were fine last month" I prod at Amar, still trying to hold his mouth shut.
"Open." I poke a healed cheek. "Or else I will sick my mother on you again."
"No, you won't. You get mad now? "
"*gasp* I do not, you take that back."
Before I could jab at the squishy cheek, something happens. Lilyanne light sputters and sparkles. Popping out like sparklers
The problem is that it comes from my fingers and not hers.
In shock I look down on the little heroine, cuddling away in my arms. Then back up to my finger, acting as a sparkler. Down to her, then back up to my outstretched finger.
"Rosa?" Amar winces, sounding a bit worried, scooting ever away from the sparks attacking his skin. Magical overload imminent now that there's seemingly nothing else to heal.
I don't know what happens when we overload a person, a magic-less child nonetheless, on Lilyanne's magic. But from the history of exploding objects, I'd rather not find out right now.
Immediately, for lack of knowing what else to do in this never before seen situation, I push away my sister. Lilyanne landing but a short foot away with a surprised and very displeased plop, the connection cut. Stopping the sparks abruptly.
Just what was that?
"Ow Rosa! Dats not nice!" Lilyanne grumbles from the floor.
It's not her fault she doesn't know. She's only a child, a real one. Only knows what she's been told, in the limited world around her. She doesn't know how blessed she is, how abnormal she is. She doesn't know how I'm not supposed to be able to do that.
How I've never done that, ever.
"Are you okay? Rosa?"
"I'm not supposed to....yeah, yeah I'm fine. Are you?"
"I don't know? It feels weird...and dizzy?"
When Amar tries shaking me for a response, it's with twitching hands. Uncontrollably jittery like how you expect a child on a sugar high to be, or the old me on too much caffeine and too little food. Unnatural and shaky, yet can't be stopped easily at will.
I can't release any more of whatever that was. But it still shocks and scares me, more the unknown of it than anything. Scares me as much as Amar minutely trembles, observing his own limbs like they were alien creatures.
Lilyanne headbutts the both of us.
"No homewrecking Lily!" she declares, quite literally on top of me and this mini dog pile.
Luckily, the sudden contact prompted no new sparks. No innocent children explode. The table does not topple over our heads, though it might as well with how confused I feel.
"So, like, is there an official kiddy table down there, or am I missing something?" a grumpy voice snipes.
The table cloth flips up, streaming in light and a strapped leather boot. A young but quite handsome face lazily munching on one of the glazed brioches as he peeks down, eyebrows raised.
"Oh. Hi Yuna. I feel really funny now. Sorry. Is Vincent waiting? Sorry. " Amar waves from the bottom of the pile, though it's more like how a cat stretches. Paws useless and shaking.
Rolling his eyes, the unofficial babysitter number two reaches in to pull every kid out of the pile to rescue Amar. I swear, it's like he's the favorite kid and not me, the boss.
"Homewrecker?" Lilyanne points as Yuna lifts her off.
"Excuse me?! What did this white bread bun of a brat call me?!" the pretty youngster shrieks.
"Homewrecker!" she nods and decides cutely.
"I'll wreck your-"
Well, Yuna certainly has the face of one? Ah, the odd things Lilyanne decides to learn. Of all things?
In the end, no matter what strange things just occurred and will undoubtedly occur in the future, nothing is as bad as Lilyanne. The uh....blissful protagonist and all the fate that follows her. Does aspirin exist in this world? I feel like I'm going to need it.
Back on the breakfast table, Amar still shakes, his hand trying to grasp a nearby milk cup only for it to tremble along with him. His expression was more curious than anything, as if he were one big human experiment.
Actually given that poor kid's history, that may be exactly what he's thinking.
"I'm very sorry. We broke Amar." I admit, gesturing to the child we just gave Parkinson's, hopefully temporary, too.
By we, I mean my sister and me of course. I sure didn't do this alone.
"I can see that." Yuna grimaces, inspecting the child. "What did you intake now and did you eat anything yet to ride it out?"
"No poison, we really broke him with uh.....that...." I make little sparkling motions with my hands, hoping to mime it out without saying anything further.
"Symptoms?" Yuna checks at his reflexes and pupils, Amar being good and complacent with the questions.
"Um. Like some poisons? But funnier. Feels like too many stimulants? "
"Upper or downer?"
"Up. Up feeling. Oh, okay. I know what to do now. I think?" the kid reaches into his pockets, fumbling with a palmful of wax wrapped candies.
At least I think they're candies? They certainly look it when he crunches down on a few tiny little black pills the size of fat peppercorns, followed by a cough drop sized yellow one. All before washing it down.
"Eat more bread and meat. Ride it out. The end." the teen feels at his forehead.
"...I want rice."
"Well too bad."
Yuna dips the brioche in milk, before stuffing it into Amar's picky mouth, the boy carefully chewing in annoyance.
They're treating it as if someone's had a bit too much to drink. Trying to prevent a hangover than anything actually serious, like overdosing a kid on strange magic! Or poison? I don't know if that works out the same?
"Don't worry about it, princess. We've been through worse."
Another piece of soggy dipped bread ends up in my mouth, Yuna boredly looking over as he helps himself to a free continental breakfast.
"Ah ah, Lily too, ahhhh~" Lilyanne opens wide, a baby bird wanting to be fed.
"What do I look like?! Huh?!"
"Ahhhh~ homewrecker nom nom ahhhhh!"
"Oh my god. Oi brats, is this one always like that?" he throws a whole bun in fear, prompting my sister to chase after it like playing fetch. He even screams when she brings it back.
A lot is going on at any time, so much so I can only mutely nod my head as I chew. Yes, yes, she is always like that. We are working on it.
"Are you sure you going to be ok just like that?" I ask.
Amar slightly tilts his head up, as if thinking about it. Then nods with the usual little smile on his face. The shaking already lessening, so he no longer looks like a sugar-high child in place.
"Told you I don't know how to not get hit and stuff." he simply says, pulling back the porridge, going for the sweets.
Across the table Yuna tries throwing three buns of bread in different directions, trying to get my hyperactive little sister away from eating out of his damn hands. So energetic after first waking up.
There's a lot of things to ask. Even if the answers aren't always clear. A meal table always being the best place to try.
"Where are you guys going now?"
"Um, east of here. Not really far."
"Holy shit, this girl actually bites?! What the-!!!" Yuna screams in the not so far background.
"Is it with a lot of the troops or just you boys?"
"Not really a lot? It's not big or dangerous. Vincent has to visit Damia at least once because he's taking over as Darius's heir now. But it was too busy before. "
I choke on my milk.
"What!?"
"Uh huh, until master Darius recovers? But that's not happening. "
There's milk dripping from my mouth. The slightly shaking brat keeps eating like visiting and subduing his old abusers is nothing. My feral baby sister is trying to bite my screaming second babysitter. And Georgie is walking in at the wrong time.
"I swear...I leave for just a few minutes..."
Georgie facepalms, preferring to wallow than actually do anything. Say stop my sister from chasing Yuna around. The younger teen going to hide behind Georgie, screaming for him to turn her off or something.
"She's a child. She doesn't just turn off?!"
"Yeah well do something, those baby teeth are stronger than they look. Wait...didn't I leave him alone time to actually talk with....why are you here and not downstairs with Vincent damn it!?
"Language, there are kids here! You brat, why are you getting mad at me, who packed your damn lunch huh? "
"Tamera was right....he is pathetic...ow not the earring ow."
Lilyanne giggles in Georgie's arm as the older boy scolds Yuna for appropriate language and saying thank you.
Even without Grampa or my parents around, something awful is always going on. From the past to the ever-growing present, all the little details going on with all these people.
It's almost impossible to juggle it all, especially when it all adds up.
"Juggling lots is very hard." Amar agrees, reaching for a breakfast tart. "I have to think about throwing more than catching, so I can't look down? Or getting the height right for so it balances. I'm not very good so I have to focus lots. It's scary dropping things. But it's better than getting a knife through my hands again, fingers and hands always hurt more. "
"....you didn't sneak in this morning to eat my food and tell me about juggling did you?"
"Um, no?" the kid thinks about it, munching as always, before watching the terrible background fighting and finally figuring out just what it was he came here for in the first place.
"Oh. That boy." Amar remembers out loud.
"What?"
"The funny weak one? You can't ever let Lukas meet him again. That's what I was going to say."
"...."
"We got away with it last year? But it's bad. I feel bad. I have to go now, so if Lukas sneaks back out and he's still around, you can't let him see him."
"...Ok. But why?"
I know why. I just don't know how much Amar knows. Kids are weird, they're supposed to be wild and rambunctious. When the boys are annoying me with their mischief it's usually random blabber and terrible misadventures. They don't go talking about the tragic backstories they aren't supposed to have.
"Because. It will make him sad. Really sad. But he'll do it anyway. " he warns without outrightly saying so, sounding innocent sipping on sweet milk.
"How does...how does Lukas know? Why is he even trying? What is he even trying?"
"I don't know."
A lie. This little kid knows too much about too many things. It's honestly quite scary.
"I don't know, but Lukas has Gable now. If he tries to find that lady again, he'll only get sadder."
"That lady?"
"He has Gable and Cap now. She put him in a dark box and made people throw him away. She wanted him to die but he didn't. That lady isn't his mama. That lady isn't anything."
I gulp. Not just from this shocking piece of information, but from the way Amar says it.
He's a soft-spoken child, with a pleasant and melodious little boy's voice. But sometimes, when he speaks like this, speaks of gunshots to his face or Hoody and blood, it's with such a contrast. Still the same childish voice, and yet...emotionless? Like it's no big deal like it happens every other week.
It's not even scary like the way children in horror movies are. It's just ...sad.
"How do you know this?"
"Lukas will tell you anything even if you don't ask." Amar gives me a funny look, one that says he thinks I'm the dumb one for not considering the other boy's blabbermouth.
"I know that! It's just.....so he...wants to find that stupid prince...so he can find his mother?"
"That person isn't his mama. She's too bad."
Amar says it as simply as he counts numbers. A clean fact.
The woman that threw away her child like that, has no right to be his mother. That's what I'm getting from that. The connection cut, as if it could be that easy. As if having a bad mother could really just...disqualify them.
My own mother wasn't the best...but I don't think the ties can be cut just like that.
"Gable's watching him...right? He won't let him see her, any of them if he could help it. Gable's strong." and Gable runs away. Is still running from something.
There’s a lot of missing pieces to all these stories. There's still so much going on I don't know about. In stories that affect me and the ones that don't.
Did this life really have to be so realistically complicated? Where's my cheap cheesy cheat of a life?
"Yeah but Lukas is Lukas. He does funny things sometimes? Really funny." Amar laughs.
"Ok, that part is true." I sigh, a bad montage of disasters playing from my short term memory.
From getting us trapped and freed from an actual cave, to making a giant ice barrel to roll down a cliff in. Losing my sister on a goat, getting us chased down by hoards of chickens, squirrels, and most recently an 8 legged warthog? I don't know what ridiculous death traps he'll put us through next.
Oh god, just how did anyone have him as a minion? Philippe? How!? A warning would have been helpful?! But no, my memories are apparently limited and even more useless than I thought.
"Rosa? Lukas is really silly but so are you. In a different way. You're both too funny sometimes. Lukas says everything he means, even when he doesn't understand, and that's a lot. So please watch out and don't let him be sad like that when he sneaks back with Cap or to your mama."
Sometimes, as sad and brain-damaged as this kid is, I don't think he's really 6 years old. Aiya my head. Someone go invent aspirin.
"Fine fine, I'll watch out for when Lukas makes a break for it. Might as well. You two are everywhere now. Ah, but he better not play tricks with my mother like you do or-"
"You're funny. Did you get tricked? That's why your mama likes making you all mad and jealous. You make funny faces. And your papa loses and gets weird? She likes it a lot. "
Oh. Well....that actually makes a lot of sense. Knowing Mother and the strange advice she hears, and misinterprets. Well not like it affects me, only my sister and loser of a father gets anything like jealous. Oh ho ho...ah that wasn't actually very funny.
"I'm going I'm going, don't pull my ear off!" Yuna scrambles, suddenly picking up a bread basket in one arm and Amar in another.
"Not with dirty hair like that you won't, - oh god why is Amar shaking like some rich woman's little dog? That's not how you carry a kid, let alone one that just ate. He's going to throw up! Give him here. No not the basket, the kid!"
"For a normie you sure are crazy! Anyone ever told you you're perfect for the house Ventrella?"
"You think you can walk away like that?! Maids! Draw the bath! Don't let that trash-talking blond brat go till he's sparkling clean and decent! Soap his mouth while you're at it."
"You can't just tell me what to do- wait, Amar, where are you going? You're seriously not siding with him?! Why the hell does Vincent even like- Wait, ack Georgie you turd watch the -ow why do you always go for the ear?"
"Did no one ever teach you manners?!"
"More than you!"
Sitting innocently on the fresh cart behind Georgie is a whole pot of that delectable porridge. Something that would lure away the hearts of all kids and foodies. Its deliciousness perfect to drown out the circus going on around the room.
My family is surprisingly, and shadily, absent. I have even more things to ask Grampa about. I maybe used magic?! My babysitters are bickering like a dog fight. I think my sister might actually be a more trainable dog than human at this current point. I still have a stupid fiance and the horrible deepening plot that comes with it. And all my minions are a lot more trouble than they're worth.
Great. It's a lot to juggle, but I'm not Rosalia Ventrella for nothing.
At least it's never boring around here. Now pass me a bowl of that good stuff.
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