STABLE BOY ; Trash of the Count's Family

44. CAREGIVING

And now, the trip home with two invisible guests. Everyone pretty much knows that the Young Master is hiding people at this point, they've just learned to not question it. It happened before with Taylor Stan and at this point it's better to feign ignorance.

"Someone get South off that horse, I need to bring all this food to the Young Master's tent," Hans hollered over the campsite, and then there's the rapid footsteps of Hillsmans realizing what's happening.

"Joycequine, no, STOP—!!"

South was usually good at horseback riding, but not when he falls asleep, of course. Even his impeccable balance is just a declaration of challenge to Joycequine, who's doing her best to rodeo him off.

"Is that five people's worth of food again?" Coachman Leon asked.

"Yes, with part of it less seasoned because it's obviously for the kittens," Hans said, and went into the tent without elaborating.

From inside, Cale can hear everyone yelling at each other.

They're treating South's situation like a high-risk rescue mission. There were yells of 'no, no, left! You cover the left!' and 'I got a sword! We need to cut his belt off the saddle!!' 'abort abort!' 'stop! Don't agitate the horse, she'll drop him and he'll hit his head on the ground—!' 'I GOT HIM! CLEAR, CLEAR!' 'IDIOT RETRIEVED, RUN!' 'HELP she's CHASING ME' and so on and so forth.

Cale's exasperated. Hans was still casually serving his meal on the table like nothing's happening. Why do they sound like they're enacting a dangerous mission to steal bear cubs?

"How many knights does it take to get a sleeping stable boy off a horse?"

Hans looked outside then said, "seven as of the moment, Young Master."

Cale wished he didn't ask.

"Just get out."

"Right!" Hans beamed, "please enjoy your meal."

It's only after he leaves that Cale realizes he didn't add the obligatory 'Young Master' at the end. Almost as if Hans knew he wasn't addressing just Cale.

Well, whatever.

"Just eat," Cale turns to Paseton and Whitira, who turn off their invisibility apparatus as the dragon also turns visible, landing on the table with a huff. "Ignore the commotion."

Hong and On have their heads out the slit of the tent.

"Come eat," Cale called, and they turn away like reluctant children being told to get off the TV for dinner.

-

"Can you find a pulse?"

"No, but maybe I'm checking wrong."

"I can't find one either."

"I found it!"

"What? No you didn't."

"No seriously it's super faint but it's there."

"HELLO," Coachman Leon yelled over the knights congregating over the stable boy like their newest dead body in the party, "sir knights, please go back to your training!"

"But Leon, isn't he like, dead?"

"Yeah his body's cold."

"He dies three times a day, it's called sleeping," Leon shoved them away, "go back to the damn training grounds already and stop bothering him!"

They did eventually scatter, and Leon sighed, laying a blanket over South as the boy slumped over the bench, clearly asleep. Amazing how all the commotion didn't wake him up at all.

"Hans-ssi," Leon called, "could you get the doctor? His temperature really isn't well, I'm thinking we keep him in the tents for the rest of the trip."

"Yes, yes," Hans responded, "if you can make South do anything against his will then be my guest."

-

Cale sighed deeply into his hands.

Paseton and Whitira were with the children now, peeking out the tent in mortified fascination. Cale honestly doesn't blame them, that stable boy of theirs is some kind of specimen that would be amusing to anyone sane.

"Weak human! The cold human's dead?!" the Black Dragon called out, alarmed.

"No he's not," Cale said, "his body's just adapting after drinking so many potions consecutively. He'll be fine, he survived a bomb at the Plaza."

"He survived a bombing? Despite being a human?" Paseton perked up.

"But he doesn't have a single scar under all that ink," Whitira added.

Cale wasn't going to ask why she's so sure of that. "Leave him be. Come eat before it goes cold, Vicross' food is good."

-

Waking up to a Dragon keeping you firmly down was actually really grounding. It's kind of like having a service dog trained for seizures, except, the Black Dragon seemed to have realized this was what he needed all on his own.

"Even your sweat is cold," the Black Dragon scowled, nose wrinkling.

South sighed, and caught his breath, trying to figure out where he was and what time it was. It was dark out already, and it seemed he was in a tent.

Coachman Leon must be with the night watch, if he's not here.

He sat up and just stared at the wall, dragon in his lap warm. His head was ringing and everything felt groggy and sick— definitely that high-effect potion was not going to be good for him when he stopped taking it. Even away from the sea, he felt as if he were going through drug withdrawals.

Oh well, he'll adapt.

But now, he felt sick and tired, and lost, and all he could think about was how quiet it was. Painfully quiet, with only the sound and feeling of his heartbeat slowly rising again as his body registered that he was awake.

His hands felt swollen and numb and weak. Every breath felt like a wheeze.

In his head, he kept calling for someone, but he already knew there would be no answer.

"Cold Human?" the Black dragon called, head tilted aside in confusion as a sniffle escaped South's orifices, and he sniffled, trying to catch his breath through the running nose.

"Ugh," South groaned, rubbing his face, "I need water. Can you let me get up?"

"No."

"Please, Dragon-nim, it's so cold I feel like I have the flu. You're going to catch it."

"Huh??? Then you're definitely not moving. I am a big strong dragon, I don't get sick!"