Nothing symbolizes the cruelty of fauna more than a Roman rooster.
The size of a toddling child, this motley-plumed monster slips through a crack in the larder door, head bobbing with every step through the pre-dawn darkness. It loiters near the hearth, soaking in what warmth remains before ambling over to the bed.
It is day three—this cocker’s last day on the planet.
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I posted back to back chapters recently - oh, and finally caught up on my damn reading here at Tapas!! Now I have a bunch of comics to binge over at Lezhin 0_0
Next chapter will be from Aedan's perspective - it's going to get dirty real fast.
Episode will post on Sunday night - as always, I've gone just over the 15k character mark and I'm not splitting up a small chapter for Tapas. Will have to condense - thank the fates for Pixiv, Bear House, and AO3.gay
Flora gazes at the lofty Gaul. “How’d you know I—”
“-I grew up with eight sisters, they all shared rooms and, eventually, blood days. You will keep the staff on schedule since you work through your pains every month,” Welle then mumbles, “and Julia takes to her bed at the first drop,”
“I don’t get the blood anymore,” Vibia offers.
Hosta says, “I get a spot now and then, every few months,”
A portion of Caeso’s upper lip rises as he turns to Marilla.
“Are you wearing the rag right now?”
“Can we please talk about something else,” Optus begs.
Welle claps once, silencing them.
“We have a busy day ahead,”
“Yes, we should focus,” says Flora. “Since Julia’s taken to her bed, Marilla, me and you can divide the first floor,”
“I have an announcement,” Welle declares. “Starting tomorrow, I’ll be serving as Lord Skipio’s attendant,”
Niko nods to himself while Flora gives a start.
“You’re no longer overseeing us?” Marilla asks, a bit too cheerful as the boys smirk openly; at least the kitchen mavens have the sense to hide their happiness.
“Oh, I’ll still be watching,” he assures. “But after tomorrow, you’ll all be answering to Flora,”
“Are you sure, Master Welletrix?” Flora asks. “Julia Paulina’s been in this house longer than I have,”
“Yes,” he says. “And Julia retires to her room on blood days, and here you are, standing here, rag in place,”
Flora spins around, frantic, craning her neck to see her backside. “Do I have a spot?”
“No, your tunic is unstained,” Welle says as Niko nods.