They sold Gus in the next village. They’d been haggling over a loaf of bread when it became clear that the baker’s young son had become enthralled with the little dog. Since the feeling seemed to be mutual, Tom reluctantly let him go.
“How could you keep him?” Cat said as they were leaving. “We can barely support ourselves. You can’t have a pet.”
Tom didn’t feel like mentioning that a lot of people would say he already had one. That would just provoke her, and he knew creatures like Catherine could not be owned. He had liked Gus though.
“What did those chickens say?” she asked, distracting him.
Tom always made an effort to try and speak with every new animal he came across. Usually he only got random words in return. In this town the hens were the closest to actually conversing with him, but only to repeatedly remark that they thought he was ugly.
“Not much,” he admitted. “Hey, has it ever struck you as odd that I can talk to other creatures and you can’t?”
“Magic is weird. That’s all the explanation we need. Who wants to talk to chickens anyway?”
“What have you got against chickens?”
“I love chickens. They’re delicious.”
He winced. He couldn’t blame Cat for being an unrepentant carnivore, but he avoided eating meat when he could. He just couldn’t bring himself to think of creatures he could understand as food, even if they never actually said anything.
He refrained from commenting and simply munched on the bread as they meandered through the little town. Cat kept disappearing into tucked away shops and returning empty-handed.
“What are you up to?” he finally asked her.
“You’ll see,” she answered, practically purring even in human form. “I have an idea, but we need to get you new cloths first.”
Except the things she procured for him were practically rags.
“How are those better than what I’ve got on?”
“They were obviously of high quality once upon a time. Besides, the purple will really bring out your eyes.”
“Both my eyes have been blackened at the moment,” he said, crossly.
“Exactly.”
He stared at her, trying to decipher what was making her celery eyes light up so much.
“Tell me what you’re planning.”
“You might not approve,” she said, suddenly demure.
“All the more reason to tell me now.”
She grinned at him. “Since it is so obvious you’ve been attacked recently, we are going to go complain to the duke.”
“It was out own fault we got jumped,” Tom pointed out. “Why should he care what happened to a peasant?”
“He won’t. But the duke won’t know you as Tom the miller’s son. We are going to introduce you as the great wizard Caligula.”
Tom frowned at her. He could see how the idea could work. He didn’t have the requisite finery, but they could pretend it was all stolen. That must be what she meant by making him change clothes. Every other discrepancy could be passed off as the eccentricity of a mage.
But there was no way he could do something like that. It wasn’t ethical, and he said as much.
“It’s not like you don’t actually have magical powers,” Cat told him.
“It’s still tricking people! I’m not that powerful!”
“Tom, your parents left you with nothing, and your brother treated you like his own personal servant. You deserve so much better than that.”
He looked at the ground, blushing.
“We need something like this to get us set up,” she continued. “Let me do this for you, just once. If you don’t like it, we won’t ever have to do something like this again”
The temptation was strong. It was so much fun to imagine himself being treated like a young lord, and it would be awfully enjoyable to play such a joke on the nobility. Catherine tapped he booted floor, waiting for him to respond.
“Okay,” he finally said.
Gender:
Points: 2952
Reviews: 136