One look was all it took for the little ragamuffin to fall in love.

"It's beautiful!" Venia cried as she watched the courier carry the booby over to their front door from his wagon.

"No. Absolutely no," Rona said. "We can't afford to keep another pet."

"We could eat it," Thomas suggested.

"Shut up, Thomas. We can't eat such a creature," Venia argued.

The courier made his way to their door and set the cage down. The booby was a rather large bird with bright blue webbed feet. Its beak was a deep navy blue and its irises were golden. It stood about as tall as Venia's calf.

"I can't take it back," the courier huffed as he wiped the sweat from his brow. "Guess you'll have to keep it."

"What do you mean? Of course, you can take it back," Rona said.

"Eh, I really can't. I don't have enough feed for it," the courier argued.

"Neither do we!"

"Not my problem," the courier shrugged as he made his way back to the cart. "I have a lot more to drop off here, so if you could lend a hand, I'd appreciate it."

Thomas helped him unload some crates, bags, and baskets full of food, clothes, money, toys, and jewelry.

"What's all this for?" Rona inquired as she inspected a silver necklace.

"Apparently someone here died or something," the courier explained. "These are all consolation gifts from their friends and relatives."

"Our father died several months ago, and our brother months before that," Thomas told the courier.

"Oh. Well, I'm sorry to hear that."

After unloading all the gifts, the courier sped off in his emptied wagon. Venia spent the evening learning all the abilities of her bird, Thomas organized all the books he received, and Rona tried on all her new jewelry and clothes.

"Papa sure did have a lot of friends," Venia remarked as she watched the bird spit up a grape she had tried to feed it.

"He sure did," Thomas agreed as he swung a short sword around with one hand and took a bite of a bright, red apple with the other.

"No swords in the house," Rona said as she tried on another ring and necklace, looking at her reflection in the broken window above the wash basin. Thomas slid the sword gently into its scabbard, then took one of Venia's grapes and popped it into his mouth.

"I wonder why they couldn't have sent stuff while he was still alive," Venia wondered.

"You'll understand when you're older," her mother replied as she sat at the table and began counting the money they received.

"What about me?" Thomas chimed in. "I'm fifteen. I'm already a man and I still don't understand why they couldn't have helped us sooner."

"This is not help," she said. "These are gifts."

"I still don't understand why they couldn't have helped, though."

"You'll understand when you're older," she shrugged.

"Huh? But I'm a man already."

"A young man, Thomas."

"Are you old enough to understand?"

"Of course, I am."

"I don't understand."

"Because you aren't old enough," Rona chuckled.

Thomas looked to his sister for help, but Venia just shook her head and shrugged. In any case, they were relieved to see their mother in high enough spirits to joke around. It was a welcome change. In fact, her mood improved greatly after she finished counting the money. She figured, after she sold off the jewelry too, they had enough to last them a whole year.

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"Tommy, the bird won't eat anything I give it," Venia complained to her brother.

"Let me see," he stepped over beside her. The cage was resting on the dinner table. "What have you tried feeding it so far?"

"Grapes, rice grains, wheat, a banana, some dates, barley, and bread," she listed.

"Try feeding it some meat," he said as he reached into the salt crate and ripped off some chicken skin.

"Isn't it wrong to feed bird meat to a bird?" Venia asked.

"I don't think the bird cares," Thomas laughed and flicked the meat into the cage. The booby pounced on it, pecking away and gobbling it down.

"See?" Thomas said matter-of-factly. "It's carnivorous."

"That won't do," said Rona, who looked up from her record booklet when she heard. "We can't have another mouth to feed, especially one with high standards. I could probably fetch a nice price for this thing at Castle Graval."

"No!" Venia pleaded. "I can take care of it. Besides, Lord Graval wouldn't let you sell anything there."

Venia was right. As serfs, they weren't allowed to sell any goods without express permission from Lord Graval, which usually meant a heavy tax. Of course, this didn't stop people from trading. They just needed to be discreet or wait for Lord Graval to leave for a while. His wife, Lady Mathilda, would allow anyone to trade tax-free. Lord Graval would fly into a rage whenever he found out, but there was little he could do.

"I know that," Rona snapped. "I know what I'm doing."

"Please, just let me keep the bird," Venia begged. "If I can't take care of it, we can sell it."

"Fine," Rona backed off. "I have a very tight plan here, and I'm sure it'll last us the year. If the bird starts to interfere with it, I'll butcher it myself."

"Deal!" Venia exclaimed. "Thank you, mama."

Venia spent the next few weeks training the bird to follow her around without flying off. She shared her rations with it and decided to name it Cake.

"I have a pet bird," she said to her father's grave one morning. "I'm still not sure if it's a boy or girl. Thomas says it's a boy. I named it Cake, and Thomas won't stop making fun of it because he says it's a girl's name. I tried explaining to him that Cake can be a girl or boy's name. Anyway, I think you'd really like Cake. He's smart. He won't fly off and he always follows me closely. Geoff barks at him, but Cake'll peck at his eyes and he'll whimper off."

Venia would bring updates to her father's grave on Cake's progress at their farm. One day, Cake tackled a troublesome crow out of the air. Venia applauded him. "Yeah!" She cheered. "This is our farm! You show 'em, Cake."

A couple months later, Venia started growing too thin from sharing her rations with the bird. Rona almost sold the bird, but Venia convinced her to give her a little more time. She decided to sneak off to Lord Graval's lake to hunt for fish. She would sneak off whenever Rona would "go to town" and "sell things" to avoid any scolding. Much to her surprise, other peasants had been sneaking off to the lake to hunt for fish too. They were led by a friendly old fellow named Doug, who made sure to take extra care not to over-fish, so the lake wouldn't dry up and Lord Graval would find out.

Venia would watch Cake fly above the surface of the water. When he found his prey, he would fly straight up, then dive into the lake and catch the fish with his feet. At first, Venia was worried he would drown, as she had never seen a bird who could swim underwater, but he would always emerge without fail.

One particularly beautiful, scorching day, Venia snuck off to the lake with Cake and was stopped by Doug before she could cast her line.

"What's wrong?" She asked.

"Look," Doug said and pointed to two boats in the lake. "Lord Graval."

Venia quickly hid behind a bush and peeped through the foliage to see Lord Graval being rowed around in a little rowboat. Lady Mathilda was in a much larger boat, maybe five or six times larger, which required two rowers. Her boat drifted beside Lord Graval's and her rowers used magus. They pushed the water under the boat, shifting the currents in the lake, causing the vessel to drift around without any wind.

"I don't see why you can't ride around in my boat, dear," Lord Graval said loudly to Lady Mathilda, who was lying comfortably in a pile of blankets and pillows. "I have one just big enough for the two of us."

"Please," Venia heard Lady Mathilda reply. "You think the size of your boat matters to me?"

"Well, if we both want to fit in the boat, then yes, I do think size matters."

"Then why don't you come over to my boat? It's big enough to hold us both," she said.

"Why would we use a boat that big to hold the two of us? My boat is just the right size. I thought it'd be romantic," Lord Graval sighed.

"A boat this large can make everyone happy, dear. Well, except you."

"Wait. Are you talking about the boats anymore?" Lord Graval asked, confused.

"Of course I'm talking about the boats," Lady Graval laughed. Venia noticed she was dressed in a striking yellow silk robe that intimately hugged her figure. Beside her was a young man with a giant leaf, about the age of twenty, fanning her and blushing intensely as he tried to keep his eyes to himself.

"Oh," Lord Graval slouched. He was wearing a silky violet robe. His short, brown hair was a mess, like he'd just gotten out of bed.

"Come on in, my lord," Lady Mathilda said sarcastically. "My vessel is more than ready to receive yours. In fact, it's large enough for the whole village," she exclaimed loud enough for Venia and all the peasants hiding in the bushes nearby to hear. Venia fell back behind the bushes and hid her face.

"Okay, now you're definitely not talking about the boats!" Lord Graval shouted angrily.

"Of course I'm not talking about the boats, you nitwit!" She laughed again, throwing her head back and causing her robes to ever-so-slightly split apart at her breast. Her young fan bearer began to sweat and fan more aggressively.

"Why do you have to make me feel so inadequate?" Lord Graval whined.

"I'm not trying to make you feel inadequate," Lady Graval giggled. "What I'm saying is you have an abundance of riches. You're truly blessed. Anyone would tell you that. Why not share your blessings with your people?"

"You mean let them fish in my lake, hunt in my forest, and eat from my stores? There's a famine, my wife. We would starve."

"Maybe, my husband, there's a famine because we've begun keeping all the food to ourselves," she retorted.

"No, we're keeping as much food as we can to ourselves because there's a famine," he said stubbornly.

"Husband," she said, agitated. "I've gone over our accounts. I've reviewed our stocks. We have more than enough to feed our castle for the next two years."

"Then what happens after those two years?" He asked sharply.

"We'll be growing and buying more food during those two years, obviously. Not to mention how much of it would spoil by then."

"Don't patronize me!" He shouted and stamped his feet, causing his little rowboat to capsize and throw him into the water. Venia giggled quietly and held Cake up to see. Lady Mathilda sat up to see, then fell back with roaring laughter, causing her robe to fly up and reveal everything from her waist down for the briefest of moments. Her fan bearer felt his pants rise between his legs. He coughed and dropped his fan, then leaned over the edge of the boat, arching his back and thinking mundane thoughts to make it go away.

"My goodness. Are you alright?" Lady Mathilda asked, holding back her laughter and fixing her robe. She approached the young man and placed an arm on his shoulder, but he turned away in embarrassment to conceal his problem, feigning sickness.

Lord Graval emerged from the water and began climbing up the side of Lady Mathilda's boat. He threw his leg over the edge of the little ship and saw his wife comforting her fan bearer. "What's his problem?" He asked grouchily.

"I'm not sure. Perhaps you've made such a fool of yourself, he choked on his laughter," she joked.

"How dare you laugh at me, boy!" Lord Graval shouted and stormed over, grabbing the boy by his collar.

"Hot!" The fan bearer managed to cough up.

"What?" Lord Graval roared in his face.

"The heat! I mean, the heat!" The fan bearer explained. "It's very hot today, my liege. So hot."

"Let's go back," Lady Mathilda suggested as she fanned her face with her hand. "Let's go before we all start passing out."

That moment, as though he could no longer handle the heat, Cake broke free from Venia's grasp and flew high above the lake. Just as Venia was about to scream out, Doug hugged her and threw his hand over her mouth. She watched helplessly to see what her bird would do.

"Our rowers are exerting themselves far more than your fan bearer and I don't see them—" Lord Graval paused when he felt something splatter in his hair. "What the—?"

Cake soared over Lady Mathilda's boat and let loose a massive, bulbous crap that landed squarely atop Lord Graval's head. It was all they could do to save themselves from bursting into laughter. The peasants hiding in the bushes held their hands over their mouths. Even the rowers on the boat struggled to keep a straight face. Lady Mathilda was in tears and red in the face, pointing and laughing at her husband.

"What was that?" He asked innocently, then reached up with his hand and touched the white puddle on his head. "Oh, what the—"