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Chapter 11: A room full of gold

A/N: 15K kudos on Ao3!!! That's so incredible. When I first started this fic, I really didn't expect so many people to read and love this fic. Thank you so much for your encouragement and support in the comments as well! This is what I stay in fandom for - the awesome community <3

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Having spent a long time teaching the kids throughout the night, Cale feels incredibly sleepy when he wakes up for breakfast. He yawns as he heads downstairs in his pyjamas. The old wooden staircase creaks with every step, creating a cacophony in tandem with the screaming roosters outside.

The cats meow and escort him on his left and right side, making sure Cale doesn't stumble down the staircase of the house. Their meows keep him awake, but it's their presence that makes him step carefully - he doesn't want to accidentally step on their tails. Either way, it works and he reaches the dining room without falling.

Breakfast is a simple affair of buttered toast, sausages and sunnyside ups, but Cale's not one to be picky. He cuts the food into smaller pieces, making it easy for Raon to sneak a few bites when no one's looking. Cale chews with his eyes closed, looking ready to fall asleep while eating.

"You didn't sleep well?" Hans asks. He looks like the complete opposite of Cale, bright-eyed and happy to watch the kittens eating sausages. "Did you, err, eat your medicine?"

The mention of medicine has everyone's eyes on him. Cale swallows as he struggles with his sleep-addled mind to remember what Hans is talking about. Oh right, the vitamins. A vitamin deficiency would lead to a lack of energy.

"I forgot," Cale admits. Hans sighs and retrieves a bottle from his jacket, unscrewing the cap to hand Cale a white pill. Cale accepts it without question and just swallows it without water.

"Are you very ill, young master?" Ron asks, his tone a little strange as he smiles at Cale. "Here's some lemon tea. It'll help."

Cale's face falls. He hates sour things. He considers rejecting it, but Ron follows up with, "Beacrox personally squeezed the lemons for you."

"...Thanks," Cale replies grudgingly, picking up the cup with an unwilling expression. He takes a small sip and instantly grimaces when the unwelcome sourness bites his tongue. He certainly feels more awake now.

Beacrox walks down the stairs at that moment, carrying things to load up their carriage. His sleeves are rolled up to his elbow, revealing faded scars along his muscular arms. They're not scars a chef should have. He shoots Cale a sharp glance as he passes by, so Cale makes sure to drink as much as he can.

"Do you feel better, young master?" Ron's voice sounds teasing.

"No," Cale says petulantly, pushing the half-empty cup of lemon tea away from him. There are very soft tapping sounds on the table as Raon gets on it to sniff the cup curiously. Cale speaks a little louder to cover the sound. "The lack of drinking is getting to me, that's all."

Ron's smile seems amused. "You can drink when you get home, young master. I'm afraid it'll make you nauseous during the ride."

That's a fairly good point. Cale just nods.

Raon must've taken a lick of the lemon tea, because he rapidly backs away, the sound of his footsteps much louder. Cale urgently coughs to cover up the sound. He also drops his fork with a loud clatter.

"Oh my. Maybe the lemon tea was a little too sour for you," Ron muses, passing Cale a cup of plain water. Cale receives it and takes some much needed sips, but even then, the unwelcome taste of the lemons doesn't leave the tip of his tongue. Ron picks up the fallen fork and sets it back down on the table gently. "I'll help you change your clothes, young master."