It took one full month for the Baroness to calm down and allow us to go out of her sight. We spent most of this period holed up in the villa, and we were quite a sight. Two little bored kids bandaged from head to toe walking around like a couple of mummies.

Anna fully exploited her elevated status as a hurt child. Her sense of entitlement knew no boundary, and it was generally I who had to bear the brunt of it. I had to button her blouses, spoon-feed her, bathe her, entertain her, wipe her ass, sing her to sleep, et cetera et cetera even though I, too, had injuries of my own. To the maids, she demanded unreasonable things. When she did not get what she wanted, she groaned and winced and pretended to be in great pain, guilt-tripping everyone. This generally resulted in her mom rushing over and dotting on the girl and then telling the maids to comply to the brat’s demand. I had to step in numerous times. I would mockingly imitate Anna’s make-believe pain, doubling down and groaning, but I would say,

“Aw, aw, aw, it hurts! I, too, so wish I had a piece of that nice cake right now, but alas! I have just had one shortly ago. Maybe I should be reasonable and-”

Around this point, Anna would go ‘Hmpf!’ and stomp away, much to the maids’ relief. At first, the Baroness scowled and said I should let Anna do whatever, for the poor thing was in great pain. Weeks then passed, and even the Baroness had enough of Anna’s antics. She would say,

“Look, Anna, you’ve just had sweets. See how René, despite being in pain as much as you are, still bravely endures it and exercises moderation!”

Anna bawled her eyes out and wailed and wailed for hours, but the Baroness gritted her teeth and sat it out. Eventually, Anna gave up. She returned from being an unbearably spoiled brat to being her usual self of unbearably spoiled- wait a second… God damn it!

About a month in, the Baroness finally felt confident enough to allow us to go outside. We were, nevertheless, confined to the snow-covered rose garden and the vineyard. Oh, and it had to be with Jehan. No exceptions. The young ranger would come armed to the teeth, his bow and a quiver full of arrows, two daggers, and a small hand axe. We were never to leave his sight nor step outside the lethal range of his bow. Anna and I were still recovering from having been mauled and clawed, so we did not do anything too exerting, just a bit of skipping around and a whole lot of snowman building. And while we were playing, Jehan would scan the area with his predator’s eyes, an arrow always ready resting on the bow. Sometimes it felt like we were his bait meant to lure out a monster or two. I heard from others that Jehan’s reputation in the area had gone up a notch for having finally put down Silver, the wolf. I did not say anything about Anna’s contribution to that kill and left it at that. After all, he did indeed pierce the beast’s neck from a distance. Anna was impressed with the shot. She told me herself.

‘Fairly good for a human,’ she said.

I suspected little Anna had an adolescent crush on Jehan. I sometimes caught her secretly looking at him admiringly. When she noticed that I noticed she would pretend she wasn’t looking at Jehan, and when she did that, she was so cute in her own way.

Had I been a protagonist of one of those everyday a-reincarnated-boy-looks-after-a-girl-in-another-world stories that run-in with the wolves would have been a turning point where I manned up from then on. There would be a scene where I reflected upon my uselessness that resulted in Anna fighting off the wolves and getting hurt. Ha, I would probably ball up my fist and say something cringy like, “I will never again let her get hurt!” Followed by a montage of picking up a sword and practicing, or learning archery from Jehan, and so on. Probably acquire a skill or two, or even level up, thanks to some boosted experience point bonus- Ahahaha! Were it real, I would be looking at my status menu window and pondering where to spend my skill points. Hmm, hang on, maybe the goddesses would realize I need to power up, and perhaps give me something? That would be neat, I thought.

Instead of receiving much-deserved buffs, I got scolded by Paris. Welp, she first tried talking to me in the form of a winter hare but was promptly shot dead by Jehan. The hare ended up being served for diner. That night she tried again, this time taking over a rat. Paris, the goddess of disasters and calamities, came around midnight. The possessed rat sat on the snow-covered window-frame of my room and silently watched sleeping Anna, who was sprawled wide, and two-thirds occupied my bed. The sleeping child’s chest went up and down, and she shivered from the chill of the night air coming in through the open window. Anna rolled, draping herself with the entirety of my blanket.

“How could you allow this to happen?” the rat hissed at me angrily.

“What the fuck, Paris? I allowed this to happen? Look at me. I’m just a kid! It was a fucking wolf pack!” I hissed back, furious at this unfair accusation thrown at me. “Where were you? Where was divine intervention? Where were blessings of goddesses? Do I even get one?”

“She IS the blessing unto you, you moron.”

“You gotta be kidding me. Anna is the one who pushed us into that-”

“Who’s Anna?”

I took a step back. Wow.

“Do you bitches even care? Who’s Anna? Really? It’s been four years, and… Who’s Anna?”

The rat cleared its squeaky throat indignantly.

“Well, I do, in fact, know who Anna is. I just wished to convey that you should refer her by her true name,” after a bit of hesitation, Paris added, this time, less hostile, “Please. Otherwise, it feels as if she is truly forgotten.”

“Right,” I sighed, my rage draining away. “All I’m asking is you girls look after us. Or at least Anna-, I mean Firis. When she needs-”

“That, we can’t do.”

I gasped. What the fuck? Paris looked uneasy. With twitching eyes, she told me the goddesses had no jurisdiction or power over fellow deities’ fate. As far as Anna’s life among the mortals was concerned, all that her friends could do was to spice things up or add some garnish on some events. Not any circumstances, but only those that, in all infinitely possible iterations, had one single fixed outcome; inevitable. Otherwise, it would be meddling with the fate of a fellow deity, which was technically, physically, theologically, and supernaturally impossible.

“Let me get this straight…” I wrapped my hands around my head, devastated. “So, it is all down to her? She’s on her own? You can’t help her at all?”

“At least she’s got you.”

###

Spring came around the corner. We said goodbye to Jehan and his family at the villa, packed our things, and drove back to the Baron’s manor, our home. The Baron, naturally, was furious seeing the scars on Anna’s body. At the same time, he was stunned, hearing my second by second account of what had happened.

“Really? Did Anna really rip the manhood off-”

Anna proudly grinned and reenacted the motion, to which every man winced and cringed. The Baron studied his daughter’s gloating face, at a loss of words.

“The young Lady has a fire within,” I said, lowering my head, “as expected of the heiress to the land.”

“Yes… yes, of course, but-”

The Baron trailed off.

I fully expected to be severely punished for letting Anna come across the wolves and get herself hurt. I even went and confessed how useless I was when it mattered, how it was her, a child half my age, who stood between the beasts and me. But nobody said anything. They just hugged me tight and patted my back and said in a soothing voice,

“My! It must have been so terrifying!”

I felt confused. Guilt-ridden, even. I so wanted to get slapped, spanked, scolded, beheaded, or whatever, and get it over with. I had felt this way ever since the eventful day. But the Baroness hadn’t said anything, and the Baron wasn’t saying anything either. It was driving me mad. So mad, one day, I requested a private meeting with the Baron in his study.

“Milord, I cannot bear it anymore. I failed to protect the young Lady. Please punish me as deemed fit.”

The Baron sighed, ruffled up my head, went around his desk, and sat back in his chair. He eyed me intensely.

“What do you wish me to do? Say that you should have thrown yourself against wild beasts?” He sighed again and continued, “True, every now and then, I might ask my subjects to do so, if it really comes to that and for a good cause. But a child? No.”

“My Lord, Lady Anna, too, is a child?”

The Baron sat up from his seat. His eyes bore into me like a set of bright stars shining ever so proudly.

“Yes, but a noble child. A La Rose’s child. MY Anna did her duty. She protected her loyal subject, her beloved brother, and her dearest friend. I would have been disappointed had she hidden behind your back.”

“But, Milord, Lady Anna is only four! Besides, the same applies to me. As your servant, I, too, have my duties to the young Lady.”

The Baron stood up, came around the desk, and stood before me. He was smiling wide, much to my confusion.

“When it comes to duties, let us just say Anna’s should outweigh yours.”

I had been bitter ever since Paris’ visit back then at the mountain villa. Initially, when Firis came down to the mortal realm to build her own legacy and elevate herself to the level of a myth, I thought everything was all set and nice. ‘Surely, her friends, the goddesses, have everything railroaded?’ That thought had always been at the back of my mind. But now, having learned from Paris that Firis would be on her own, that there would be no divine blessing nor holy protection whatsoever, I panicked. Precisely because I was aware of what Firis represented. In order to make herself a legend, Firis would have to dive headfirst into the sea of many deaths and carnage. Anna, my mortal Anna! She would have to wade waist-deep in severed limbs and heads! Fuzed into a mortal body of tender flesh and blood!

And now, to make things worse, I learned the Baron was delusional. Well… OK, that was a rather harsh word. Not delusional. Romanticist, for sure, yes. He was a good Baron. He ruled well and loved his people. I would not mind serving him again and again in many thousand lives. But he had no problem at all with his own child girl putting herself in harm’s way because in his eyes it meant for honor and for La Rose’s duty to the Barony’s subject.

I could already picture the scenes. Some battle. Against all odds. Anna, Firis, charging in to reclaim her divinity. Then eventually dying because the fucking goddesses are not going to protect their fragile friend. And the Baron would be sad and devastated, yet would still proudly receive the news of his daughter’s noble demise. Oh, I could already see the whole thing playing out before my eyes. He was that kind of man. It was that kind of a world: honor, duty, and pride above all else.

###

One night, I tearfully woke up from a dream. I did not wake up screaming and sweating, for the dream wasn’t a nightmare. Instead, it was about Anna. Well, yeah, Anna, the brat was a walking nightmare child herself, but the dream wasn’t anything like that. In my subconsciously fabricated reality, she was, with a bit of my help, brought up to be one fine Lady. Through the Baron’s many acquaintances, Anna was introduced to a charming young lad, a lovable boy of a wealthy family of noble lineage. After a series of back and forth letters of passion, in writing of which my inputs were significant, an engagement was arranged. Soon followed a fairytale wedding, which I organized. Anna would go on to become a dutiful wife, a loving mother of twelve angelic kids, and rightfully earn respect as the Lady of the house. Anna would live a long peaceful life and die of old age. That was the dream I had. It was so blissful and fulfilling that I woke up in tears. That night Anna had fallen asleep playing in my room. She was sound asleep in my bed, curled into a fetal position, her thumb halfway in her mouth. I softly flicked the pink mochi cheek, gently patted her head, and silently watched the tender belly that went up and down as she breathed.

I was thinking. Hadn’t the goddesses told me Firis was here because of a major shitstorm on the horizon? Would Anna really throw herself into the fray?

“Do you have any preference in men? As a husband, I mean.” I asked Anna the next morning.

‘Jehan.’

“Yeah… never mind.”

I scratched my head. She was still too young to answer such a question properly. Jehan was alright, but I did not see a man of his statue marrying a La Rose. It would never happen.

On a side note, I later learned, much to my horror, that my colleagues in the Council had pitched an idea to the Baron and the Baroness behind my back. An eventual engagement between Anna and… ME!

“Nonsense. That would be in-breeding,” the Baroness, apparently, dismissed the idea immediately. Thank God, she unconsciously regarded me as her son. I must admit, her response did not make any sense either. I was told that many eyes then blinked in confusion upon hearing the Baroness’ reasoning. She must have forgotten Anna and I did not share a single drop of blood.

But on the other hand, she was somewhat right. Anna and I. We were so intertwined in our roots that we were inseparable. Each of us was dependent on the other at the existential level. To each other, we were more than anything any mortal could imagine.

###

Spring came, and Anna turned five. By now, she and I had almost fully recovered, albeit still scarred. I was back to my work and busied myself with the council member’s duties to the Baron. After all, we had a vast land and its many people to rule and manage.

I went and bought myself a donkey. Not Slinky; Slinky would come later. With the acquisition of a humble transport of my own, I no longer needed to ask for a full-scale horse-driven carriage whenever I wanted to go somewhere. My father, though, was disappointed that I had not consulted him before my first big purchase.

“Son, you should have talked to me first,” dad said when I visited him at our tavern. With non-trusting eyes, he inspected my donkey’s teeth, hooves, and squinted his eyes and checked the ear canals. In the end, reluctantly satisfied, he slapped the donkey on the ass.

“How much did you pay for it?”

I told him how much, to which he scoffed, finding nothing negative to comment about it. I thought he worried too much. Nobody would dare to mess with a member of the Baron’s Council.

“Hmpf. I must say the price is about right, but still, that’s quite an amount for a nine-year-old boy.”

He crossed his arms and looked me up and down. “I was not aware you had such wealth.”

“Huh, did you not know? His Lordship does pay me for my service. Besides, I’ve been sending three quarters to mama for all these years…”

I trailed off, realizing what dad’s bulging eyes meant. He stomped into the tavern, and there was loud shouting and arguing. Minutes later, father slumped out of the tavern, massaging his blackened eye. He sat down on the doorstep, called me over, and put a hand on my shoulder.

“Son, take my advice. Never question your woman where the coppers and silvers went.”

And because I now had a donkey, Anna decided she was suddenly in need of a pony. When she made her wish be known, men were dispatched within the blink of an eye, who then returned with a snow-white pony, its beauty befitting the little princess-tyrant. No, not Lily; it was years before Lily. The pony was pretty as heck. It was like a miniature unicorn but without the corn. Even without a horn, the pony was quite unique. From day one, it obeyed Anna’s silent command as if it could read the child’s mind. When Anna rode, the two moved as if one. I couldn’t quite tell whether it was the pony or Firis’ innate, built-in feature.

“My! She is a natural!” the Baron exclaimed excitedly, his eyes following Anna as she effortlessly pulled off a series of sophisticated equestrian tricks. Everyone was impressed, and they cheered and clapped. I, on the other hand, felt a bit of doom. Not out of jealousy, but because Firis on horseback meant she now was one step closer to riding into a battle.

‘Next would come the weapons,’ I thought to myself and dreaded.

So, one day I asked her.

“What exactly is your plan?”

She was on her pony, I on my donkey. We were casually trotting back to the manor after having fished at a lake couple of miles away. The dirt road we were on led us through rolling fields where peasants were working the earth and sowing for the season. They bowed and cheered as the noble child passed by, and Anna waved back with a big smile. She proudly raised a small fish high above her head for display; her only catch that day. The folks laughed and congratulated the heiress. Anna shifted her attention back to me.

‘I am waiting.’

“For what?”

‘I don’t know, but there’s bound to be something. Eventually.’

“Erm…,” I squinted my eyes, trying to think, “judging by what you are, I assume you are talking about a full-blown war?”

Anna nodded nonchalantly.

“What if it doesn’t happen?”

Anna sighed. She proceeded to tell me that she used to whisper into men’s ears. When she did that, they would suddenly go batshit crazy and find whatever excuses to go bash on the group of people they deemed an enemy. With a sad face, Anna lamented she had lost that power.

‘But it is alright. Men always find ways on their own. In fact, I think that’s exactly why I’m fading.’

I shuddered. How could she be so casual about this? She noticed my expression.

‘Do not fear. I keep you safe when the time comes,’ said the five-year-old child.

No, I wanted to tell her. You got the priority wrong, kid.

“And who keeps you safe?”

‘Your unwavering faith in me.’ With that, she flashed me a child’s grin. But she had a whole lot of growing up to do first, ‘in which I will be in your care,’ she added.

###

We rode the rest of the way in silence. After reaching the manor and resting for a bit, I headed out again. To my hometown.

I stopped by at my family’s tavern to say hello and spent a few minutes chatting. Back on the street, I checked in with people how they were doing, asked merchants about their businesses, and so on. But I was heading to the blacksmith’s workshop, at which I eventually arrived. The master blacksmith Marcel, who had worked for the Baron countless times, greeted me and rubbed his hands in anticipation.

“What are the traits I should look for in a good sword?” I asked.

“Depends. What would be its intended purpose?”

He went on to explain. For the Baron, a sword would be mainly for ceremonial purposes and would thus need elaborate engravings and decorated hilt. An executioner, on the other hand, would need something weighty and long, so a single swing delivered enough force to power through a neck.

I was lost. I realized I had no idea about the swords.

“Just… something for general use, please. Slashing and stabbing, and so on. Something easy for a novice.”

“And who would be that novice? You, my lad?” Master Marcel asked, eyeing me up and down, probably trying to gauge the appropriate length of the sword.

“It’s for the young Lady,” I confessed sheepishly.

“Aha, for the Roseborn, I see… The Lady is about this high?”, with a hand, Marcel indicated imaginary Anna’s height.

“Shorter,” I corrected him.

Marcel lowered his hand in the air by a notch. He scowled.

“Hmm, how about a dagger instead? A generic dagger would be equivalent to a short sword to the young Lady.”

“That sounds reasonable,” I agreed and nodded. “The finest of your finest, please. For the Baron’s child. But with a properly functioning blade.”

“Excellent!” The blacksmith shook my hand. “I have one particular piece in my mind, but I need to do a bit on the handguard. I better make it safer for the child’s use. Wouldn’t take more than a day or two.”

I was okay with the wait, so we shook hands. I left the blacksmith and returned to the manor.

Three days later, the dagger was delivered to the manor. Marcel had thrown in a beautiful leather sheath for free; dark brown leather, red threads patterned around the edges, and tiny sparkling pearls dotted in as to shape a rose. I wrapped the whole thing in a rose-scented sheet of paper. I finished the gift wrap by a red ribbon embroidered with gold threads.

When I presented this to her, Anna was delighted. She shrieked, jumped up and down, kissed me on my lips and cheeks, and hugged me with a crushing force. She was so happy because she saw that I understood what it meant to her. So happy that her eyes were filled with tears. Her glowing face made me smile, and smile I did, like a happy fool. But deep down, there were dark balloons of confusion and contradiction and desperation inflating within me. Please, Anna, my sweet yet worse half. You can count on me to be by your side, but please. I am really really terrified of where we are heading.

###

By clipping the sheath onto her belt, Anna carried the dagger everywhere she went. The downside was she often found herself wearing a boys’ belt over girls’ dress, but she did not mind. Thankfully, Anna was sensible about the dagger and used it mostly as a tool; when cutting ropes or small twigs of woods, or when gutting fish, et cetera. One day, though, she did jab the dagger into a solid piece of a log as a test. The blade bounced off, leaving only a small dent on the surface. I suspected she was hoping the dagger would pierce into the wood.

‘I’m merely a child,’ Anna blushed and made up a lame excuse, wincing and shaking the pain off her wrist, ‘besides, this is made by a mortal and for a mortal.’

“But you are no longer immortal either,” I pointed the fact out to the goddess diffused into a chunk of meat that had an expiration date. Anna, in all practical sense, was a downgraded deity, but at the same time also one lucky mortal human who had built-in divine powers. This had been her choice. She had thrown her everything into this tiny crucible made of meat and bones, in order to come down and share the burden on my shoulders, the weight of a goddess’ fate. Her own.

‘True. All the more reason why you should look after me,’ she said.

“I am honored, milady,” I answered in a sarcastic tone and bowed low. Anna giggled and slapped the back of my head. After a bit more chatting and a short stroll in the garden, I excused myself and returned to my work.

I had been busy lately, and couldn’t spare much time for the little girl. The spring festival was rapidly approaching, and there were so many things to organize. I had to step up as the Majordome was getting old. Long hours of minding and keeping track of multiple items simultaneously tired him quickly.

“I would not know what to do if you weren’t to help,” said the old man.

I liked the Majordome. He carried a calm and gentle grandpa vibe despite the sharp, piercing eyes and the hawk-like impression. He liked me, too… I hoped. Apparently, he had been around for ages, from the time when the Baron was a child. For long, he had been an uncle to the Baron, then a loving teacher, a loyal servant, a wise adviser, and, ultimately, a trusted friend. This man was the rock on which the workings of the manor were founded. Sort of Alfred to Bruce Wayne, so to speak, but as for the Majordome, nobody seemed to know his name. He had been THE Majordome for that long. To Anna, though, all those years and status and stuff did not matter. To her, the Majordome was her personal Santa Claus. With an imaginary sack of infinite capacity, from which treats and toys and fascinating stories endlessly tumbled out like a vending machine. Anna would cling onto the old man and talk and talk. With her hands, of course. Although he did not understand a single word of the sign language, the Majordome would nod and smile and occasionally say, “Ohoho! Yes, yes,” and his eyes would quiver. The man would soak in every essence of the child sitting in his lap, burning and etching Anna onto his existence, so when his soul eventually left the frail body, he would take the vivid memories of her with him.

It was my first time getting involved in preparing for the spring festival, and I was obsessed with getting everything right. I went over things again and again. I nagged the town’s merchants and officials to the extent they felt harassed. Even my dad was irritated by my behavior. I was worried sick. I feared any slight hiccup on my part would disappoint my dear colleagues.

“You are pushing yourself too much, René. That is not healthy,” said the Majordome with a soothing smile. Damn, he must have read my mind. But that somehow worked. One single passing remark from him, and my mind was at ease. I slowed down and took a breather. When I stopped nitpicking on the smallest details, I then saw the big picture. It was alright; Things did not have to be perfect. What mattered was that there be a time of the year for the folks who needed suitable excuses to drop everything, temporarily freed from everyday tasks and worries, and just have a good time with their pals and families.

###

On the first day of the spring festival, the Majordome himself took Anna and me to the town. It was early in the afternoon. Stalls had just been opened, and I could sense the excitement in the air. Kids were running around, shouting to their friends, and laughing for no reason. I saw men already red-faced, strolling down the road, belching happy tunes. Young maidens passed us by in groups of three or four; arms locked side by side. They often whispered among themselves and burst out in incomprehensible giggles. And thank God, thank the fat boy, the sun was great. The air was just warm enough to be pleasant and carried the irresistible smell of meaty things being roasted by fire. There was also a slight hint of bitter ales and sweet honey meads, mixed with a whiff of fresh roses.

“We have done all we could. Now it is all down to the folks themselves,” said the old man. He held our tiny hands on both sides and led us through the town at a casual pace.

Anna was, of course, excited. She had been to the festival every year, but then she had been too young to appreciate what the heck was going on. Now her brain had grown slightly bigger, she could at least grasp the basic concept of festivity, and that was more than enough to fully charge up this child. Anna let go of the Majordome’s hand and ran around in excitement, her tiny feet making ‘pat pat pat’ sound as she circled around the old man and me like a satellite.

“Careful, milady! You will get mud on your dress!” I tried to calm her down but to no avail. Anna wore for the day a single-piece olive-green dress that came down to her ankles. I quite liked this one because it had a velvet-like texture that was soft and relaxingly smooth to the touch. The lower end of the skirt had a layer of four-inch-wide lace of ivory white sewn over the olive-green fabric. The lace itself was further decorated and was embroidered with varying shades of gold threads depicting the four seasons of a man working the farm. If one went around Anna looking at the thing, one would learn the repeating cycle of crop farming; from working the soil to sowing and the harvest. I thought it was quite fitting to the occasion. After all, the central theme of the spring festival was to wish for a prosperous year. Unfortunately, there already were spots of mud on her beautiful dress, the results of Anna running around.

She also wore a pair of dark brown, sturdy leather boots. Anna liked to wear them every day, citing comfort and solid feel. When ordering the boots be made, we had felt gold on those would be a bit ‘meh~.’ So we had instead opted for pearl-studded toes. The milky-white beads went surprisingly well with the leather’s deep dark brown colour and were pleasing to look at. Of course, Anna being Anna, the pearls were covered in dust and mud most of the time throughout the year. I had a maid clean the boots that morning, so every time Anna trotted on a puddle or patch of mud or dogshits, I winced and grimaced.

Earlier that day, I had combed and parted the back of Anna’s hair into three and crisscrossed them to a long braid that came down to her waist. I had also added a finishing touch by a wide red ribbon tied at the end. When Anna skipped and waltzed and ran, her braided hair swung left and right, and the ribbon was like a butterfly. Doing her hair had somewhat become my hobby; ponytail, twin-tails, braids, buns, and so on. Ribbons, clips, and sometimes flowers, too. So, I would become quite disappointed when Anna later cut her long hair. But for today, though, I was pleased. Anna was more than presentable and looked the way she should. The golden threads, the white pearls, the silk ribbons, the ivory buttons, and the high-end fabric. With a simple glance in her general direction, even a traveler, a foreigner to the Roseland, would instantly know this was not an ordinary child. A wealthy nobleman’s precious. And when one’s eyes eventually spotted the rose drawn by the tiny pearls studded on her dagger’s sheath, or the rose blossom sculpted of amber layered and inserted into a small black granite that made the centerpiece of the child’s necklace, one then would know, without a doubt, that this girl was a La Rose.

But for the people of the Barony, they were already familiar with Anna La Rose’s face. Heck, moms and wives of the Roseland had breastfed baby Anna in their own bosoms. This was THEIR girl. An extraordinary child allegedly born of the roses, as befitting the names of the land and the family she would eventually inherit. And so, as Anna skipped and hopped and waltzed through the festive town, folks greeted her with delighted smiles and affectionate hugs. She was raking in a tremendous amount of treats and snacks; milk duds, fruit tarts, egg tarts, and honey drops. Cheeses, too, and skewered pork-chops, beef-chops, lamb-chops, chicken-chops, grilled, roasted, and steamed. They went quite well with creamed potatoes, mashed, baked, and or boiled. And, of course, we had slices of smoked hams, salted hams, peppered hams, and some more cheeses to go with the tankard of fizzy bitter ale-, wait a second. I stepped in to decline the ale offered by a drunken man with a very red face.

“Pardonez, but it is a bit too strong for the young Lady,”

“Aw, what a shame,” the man shook his head in disappointment.

“But I am more than certain I can handle it. May I?” said the Majordome and took over the beverage, and the man watched in glee as the Majordome gulped down the whole thing in one go. Anna wanted to clap at this incredible feat, but she had her hands and mouth full. She instead bobbed up and down and nodded in approval.

Anna had received so many goodwill stuff I went and got her a small woven basket. She clutched the basket tight in her chest as she walked, and shook her head when the Majordome offered to carry it for her.

I spotted a gang of kids ahead of us, about six boys, my kid brother among them. I called them over, and the kids ran up to me, and for some reason, they giggled and shuffled and nudged each other. I had a brief chat with my brother but meanwhile noticed the boys had begun to pat down bad hairs and straighten up shirts and so on, as to appear proper to the noble girl before them. It was cute. These boys and Anna… they had known each other for some time. They were friends through my little brother, who, in turn, was a very good friend with Anna himself. Now, a bunch of friends had appeared before her, and Anna sensed the inevitable. She tried to hide all those good stuff by turning sideways, keeping the basket out of the boys’ reach.

“Oh no, milady. You cannot possibly eat all that all by yourself. Am I not right, Master Majordome?” said I.

“You are absolutely right!” the old man agreed with a wink.

“Oh no, please don’t mind us,” my brother yelped, prompted by me kicking his ankle, “us little lowborn peasant boys who generally cannot afford such delicacies- your hair looks fabulous, by the way. Anyway, milady does not need to share if she doesn’t want to- oh my god, what beautiful pearls!”

Anna blushed. My brother went on, passive-aggressively demanding her to share the goodies, deliberately interrupting himself now and then with the mentions of how pretty Anna looked today. The other boys chimed in worshiping the little princess, who eventually caved in and presented her prized basket of goodies. We became quite a sight. The Majordome and I, surrounded by orbiting children, who fished out snacks and treats from Anna’s basket and shoved their mouths full. Once the basket was emptied of its content, the boys and my Anna skipped and hopped ahead of us, only to dash back and excitedly report to the old Majordome about some menial things that had caught their interest, before running ahead again to the next bend of our path.

“I am sorry, René,” the Majordome apologized out of the blue.

“What for?”

“This-, or lack thereof,” he motioned for me to see the happy kids on the street, “I fear we might have robbed you of such enjoyment.”

I stopped and hugged him, for which he had to bend down a bit because I still was only nine and small myself. That made him feel better. We smiled and resumed walking. For the rest of the afternoon, we strolled in the wake of Anna and the boys. I also enjoyed the time; I bought myself a delicious jam-filled pastry that had a brittle gold-brown puffy crust. I quite liked it, so I went and bought one for each of the kids and for the Majordome, too, and they said it was excellent.

The afternoon waned, and we headed to the large clearing, where the bonfire would later be held. We reached the place just as the Baron and his wife were arriving from the manor. The two nobles went around, greeting people. Anna ran across the clearing and jumped on her mom, who laughed and hugged the daughter briefly. Anna showed the Baroness her empty basket and listed the things that had been in it. Her mom didn’t quite get the sign language but smiled and nodded nonetheless, and together with the Baron, they went to have seats at the long table shared with the elders of the town.

As usual, dad and the Baron’s cook had set up a field kitchen each; boiling pots steaming white vapors, and skewered lumps of meat roasted over fire drizzling fats. Mom was by his side, providing assistance, and my older siblings were coming and going, bringing in plates and such. Together with my little brother, I went up to my family and said hello and had a nice chat.

After greeting my mom and dad, the Majordome went off to talk to folks of his age. I looked around and met the eyes of Marcel, the blacksmith. He waved, and patted the right side of his waist, indicating that he had noticed his proud dagger on the young Lady’s belt. I smiled and gave him a thumb up.

Scattered across the clearing were the people of the Baron’s manor, mingling with the townsfolk. I saw the treasurer having a drink with Master Ado, a merchant who owned business near my family’s tavern. I watched a familiar face, a young lad servant, who took deep breaths and approached an equally young maiden. She blushed, fidgeted her hands, but nodded to whatever the heck the lad had just said. Seeing the look of relief and delight on the young man’s face, I chuckled and silently wished him good luck.

My memory of waking up in Her Ladyship’s bosom flashed by. Oh, it felt like an eternity ago. I turned my head to see what the La Rose family was doing. At the head table, the Baron was conversing with the wrinkled elders of the town. The Baroness was listening with great interest. Anna, sitting next to her mom, also leaned in and listened to the wise words of those who had seen and heard a great many things in their lives. She had some questions to ask, and the adults flashed apologetic smiles. They craned their necks and searched left and right, looking for me. The Baron spotted me, and he smiled and beckoned me to come over. I nodded but took a moment to take in the scene before taking a step towards the table. The Baron and the Baroness were waiting for me with expecting faces and slight smiles. The elders frowned in concentration. Their old eyes followed the fast-moving fingers and hands, trying to figure out what the noble child was saying. She was asking about the smoked hams, by the way. ‘That girl,’ I chuckled to myself. I donned a smile and headed towards the table. To be her voice. On my way, I wished these days would last forever.