I Was Born The Unloved Twin - 142 To the ports!

My not so loyal minions and all serving babysitters look up at me.

Yes up. For I had Yuna put me up on a stack of very tall boxes. The grumpy teenager is a strange sort of worker, but a very stable one when paid his weight in food and goodies. Which will be a great payoff today.

Now everyone must look up at me, or at least, not have to look down too bad

“Today will be a busy day. A possibly fun one, but still busy none the less. There must be order. A schedule. A system to things!” I command with all the grace and power in my natural bearing.

Until I feel my sailor hat slip a little. Gosh darn it, it’s still too big!

“How come I don’t get a dress?!” Lukas raises his hand in questioning, looking terrible too cute, even without an animal onesie. We’ve had quite enough animal onesies for a while yes.

“My legs are cold again.” Amar complains, feeling the exposed skin of his exposed thighs between schoolboy shorts and stockings.

He stares at the stupid cute frills and buttons, already missing the onesies.

Ah yes, you just can’t go wrong with the classic sailor suit!

“Ahahahah! Where do you even get these things?! ” laughs Tamera. Still very much laughing at each and every little sailor.

Culture of cuteness is lost on this world.

“Ahem. Order!” I call out, readjusting the thing atop my head.

What is this you may ask? Why am I, the Rosalia Ventrella, dressed in a little sailor dress with all the right touches of nautical themes? Just because it’s cute?

No!

It’s because we’re at the ports today! My family ports to be specific. Mine! Bwhahahaha!

Yuna pats my back a bit painfully until I cough out my not so evil laughter. Very hard to be threatening when you’re as small and cute like me.

Anyway today I am dressed up for the occasion.

Not only am I back home, to the main villa, but today is a special day at the ports. A never seen before sort of day.

An autumn tasting festival!

How exciting.

And stupid.

Not the idea itself but the fact that it was implemented. Here of all places. Each farming village may be too small to host or get the word out. They might fight or try to compete with one another despite their limited size. It’s just a lot to set an actual tasting festival up.

A neutral ground like the ports avoids a lot of those problems and intervillage tensions.

The ports not only have more professional building manpower but the potential guests. From traveling sailors, merchant ships, the troops with snack money to spend, to even any free and curious locals who may want to catch a wagon bus down.

I think the local roads have gotten a bit better? More efficient?

It does make a lot of sense from those many standpoints. But how much time did father waste on it? Seriously what is he doing?

That nerd, always biting off more and more stupid working projects. No wonder he doesn’t have any time left to follow the damn original timeline?!

Stupid stupid stupid. Ruining my plans like that. What am I supposed to do about the plans regarding his politcal career and taking over the household in his absense now? What other abnormalities do I have to account for? Is everything messed up!?

Might as well be!

Well, at least some things are better. The prep work, building projects, and overall production efficiency are going well on both large and small scale.

We can even afford to host this autumn festival.

Odd right? One would think that we should be stocking up and hoarding every crumb and morsel in preparation for the long winter. Not wasting it out like this.

But no. The trade opportunity outweighs the costs, for the domestic market alone. Let alone any impressions that may be taken by travelers. Besides, it’s good for the local villagers to sell their crafts. Trade around abut, have some fun, make a bit of extra money. All good.

Imagine the results if it all goes well and word gets out.

Thus, I, Rosalia Therese Ventrella, must do my part in setting a standard of quality control.

“I’m going to taste…everything.” I declare, a raging fire of determination in my guts.

“Isn’t that just you being hungry?” the brain-damaged minion down below raises his hand in questioning.

“Shush! It’s judging, quality control, a full evaluation to burn into the hearts and minds of anyone who dares sells a thing. Think of the reputation if anyone got sick? Or worse, if they said the food here sucks?!” I point and announce.

“I want bacon pops!” the not exactly brain damaged, for I’m not entirely sure he even had one, other minion speaks up his requests.

“Are there any sweets here?” Amar sniffs around, ignoring my orders. It takes exactly one arm reach from Tamera to reach over and stop him from wandering off, even if she’s still laughing at it all.

“The sweetest thing is bacon,” Lukas is already drooling, head spinning in looking at everything around us and possibly beyond.

“No.” Amar pats him from where he dangles in Tamera’s grip.

“No Lukas, it’s really not. ” I sigh up above.

There’s…a lot of work to do with that one.

“Onwards, I don’t have much time before papa finishes up work and catches me. He wants to do something stupid I bet…” I shiver in thinking of all the mundane things that could attract and keep my father’s attention.

So many commoners, so many rural tools and techniques. If I waited around for father to take me around the festival like he planned, I’ll never get enough time to do anything.

You know how hard it is for me to sneak out? I

“You didn’t, princess. There’s like 3 guards following after us.” Yuna points out.

“Onwards I say! Georgie, stop being shy and let’s get going. ” I order to my young assistant.

Reluctantly, Georgie steps out from the corner. Back out into the light of the world. I don’t see the problem. He looks the best he ever has. Sharply dressed in one of my modified cosplay butler suit designs, black tailcoat and all. Yes absolutely wonderful

The bear hood and ears really make it. So cute.

“AHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!” Tamera doubles over laughing at the reveal.

Half of her head is still mysteriously bleached blond, the unsymmetrical half is growing back dark. I wonder what hair dyes she uses. Previously when I first met her it was a baked shade of red and black. Though according to Amar and Yuna, they’re all ‘bad accidents’ and not dyes. Still, something to look into. I would make so much money if hair dye was that easier, and much safer.

“Georgie, come along now. ” I snap for my bear butler.

Oh ho ho, revenge is a full circle. He looks absolutely adorable! Oh ohoho~

“So stupid. It’s so stupid it’s great. ” Yuna laughs along, pointing and prodding at an embarrassed Georgie.

“Haha yes, laugh it up. ” Georgie grits out.

The teenager doing his very best to suck it up, through all the laughter and public staring.

It’s one thing for a child to be running about in a cute little animal onesie. It’s a lot different for a full grown boy like Georgie to be modeling about not just my butler suit, but to do so with cute beary bear attachments! Ribbons! Accessories! Fuzzy ears.

Ah, I am so satisfied like this.

“Let’s laugh at him as we walk, come on!” I struggle to hop down the boxes. For they are stacked very vertically, and the drop is quite steep.

Thus I land on the boys. Very squishy little bones yes.

“Let’s go!” Lukas hops, throwing me over his shoulder again.

“Wait wait wait, not upside down,” I complain. But alas, the scent of something grilling is too strong and Lukas is too fast.

Oh my motion sickness.

“That!” he stops at the nearest stall of meat, grilling up strangely shaped sausages.

Only then can I scramble my way down, after bouncing the whole way as a sack of potatoes on his tiny shoulders. Back down to solid ground. Blessed solid ground.

“Ahahaha! Ah don’t just go grabbing food again, remember to pay. ” Tamera shouts out as she follows easily, dropping off Amar with her.

“Oh yeah! ” Lukas hops in place, eyes impatiently sparkling over at the babysitters to get him one. For he does not carry money, not even a single coin on him.

How wonderful, he knows how to stay.

“Here. We’ll have that one, and that one.” I point to two different fresh grilling items, while pulling out the correct amount from my purse. The jingle of the tossing coins immediately gets a stall keeper to bend and squat to receive my orders.

It’s very hard to get anyone to take me seriously, but money talks the best language.

“Whoopee! I don’t have to get chased.” Lukas cheers, hugging me for paying.

Excuse me? You brat? What kind of nonsense food stealing situations have you gotten into Lukas? Just how did you survive before Gable? Is the concept of money that strange and foreign?!

Well for most children, yes I suppose so.

Especially since this kid lives in the damn forest now. Sometimes I suspect he may have just come out of one, as an airy stack of snowballs come to life.

Well, they’re admittedly cuter at this age when they’re a little silly and stupid.

“Don’t get it wrong. I want to bite everything, and you’re all just my disposal unit when I get tired.” I wave off.

This is my foolproof technique for being able to eat more things.

The more the merrier, but only to a certain point. This is the prime size to pass and share around food. More importantly, the minions seem to have enviously bottomless stomachs. Despite Amar’s usual pickiness, he can eat quite a lot. All seemingly without gaining weight? As for Lukas, does anything need to even be said? Is it because they’re boys?

Ah, really not fair.

Deja vu hits me.

I’ve said this exact complaint before. I’ve said it again and again at night markets and bar counters, in crazy buffets and fine dining establishments. I’ve complained jokingly and seriously to those silly fools who dared befriend me only to be used as a food eating buddy. Too many regular buddies. Even my own younger brother. Their smiles and gluttony flash before me, a little too nostalgic for my tastes.

I remember a dumb boy that stuck around the most to finish my food for me.

And that’s it!

Before my thoughts can wander off to another group of friends, a much older and much less magical one, who would also share my street foods with me, I shake my head and slap my cheeks. Slap slap slap! This is not the time nor place for such thought.

“Why is Rosa doing that?” Lukas whispers not so conspicuously.

“I don’t know? But we should watch her really carefully. Last year she fainted really bad at the sausage stuffing. ” Amar answers.

“AHhaha Rosa’s scared of sausages?! Oooooh scary scary~ Don’t worry. I’ll eat all the yummy scary sausages and save the day!” Lukas taunts me.

Really now, let’s not think too much with these foolish children in front of me.

Onwards to eat the world!

The front stall seller squats ridiculously low to hand the food down to some very short little children.

“Thank you. ” I say cutely, stepping on Lukas’s foot to stop him from chomping down immediately.

“Thanks a bunch. ” Lukas says only when I grind my foot down, indicating him to use manners.

“Oh? Thank you. ” Amar tilts his head questioningly when he receives an additional stick himself.

One that no one even ordered, on the house apparently. All eyes behind the stall peeked over to stare down at us kids. As if waiting for us to take our first bites.

Oh the blessings of cuteness.

“One bite, you all get one bite first, then pass it. That’s the point of tasting.” I instruct in the art of sharing.

Unfortunately, one bite for Lukas is very big and messy. Unsalvageably.

“You gotta eat first, then hand the rest it to Lukas. ” Amar says as we trade sticks.

“I see. My bad. ” I nod munching away.

“And if you don’t watch him, he can eat all your money. Or just eat. Everything. And the owners yells at you because Lukas ran away or made them more mad with something he said. Even if you don’t know him or anything. Then you gotta run too because they chase you with oils and pans and stuff. ” Amar tells me in too specific detail.

Like speaking from a possibly traumatizing experience.

“How fun?” I munch

Mmm these dough balls are better than whatever I got. It deserves another half bite. Don’t want to get too full off the first stall.

“It was! I never got chased by angry shopkeepers before? It was really silly and fun.” Amar takes a tiny nibble of the tough meat skewer, then another, before sticking his tongue out in rejection.

“Are you gonna finish those?” said subject of the too specific story asks, his own unshared stick chewed clean.

I mean Lukas did offer to share, but with how he destroyed the meat skewer on the first bite, we all saw fit to just let him have it.

“B+ rating, overcooked ordinary sausages but the char is nice. The dumplings are better and good service.” I rate and stamp, snapping for Georgie to mark the stall off the draft paper map father gave me.

We then throw Lukas the meat skewer, hand Yuna the dumplings, for fairness, and move on.

Meanwhile, Yuna still has not eased up on the teasing, in fact making it worse for my assistant with every passing minute. Only food will distract him from torturing Georgie and his lovely new ensemble.

“Just you wait~” Georgie grits, letting out a tense but suspicious grin to the laughing younger boy.

“Whatcha gonna do? Crown me with a bear ear tiara and hug me to death in the kiddy club? ” Yuna eats up the offered dumplings, waving the stick like a delicate little fairy wand.

This baby sitter of mine has never been through the horror of hugs in my family, and that is for the best. May he survive as long as possible. I must grow up enough to profit lots of his potential modeling career after all.

In dirty rough clothes and a tiny barely there pony tail, clearly that of a prepared albeit crass adventurer, Yuna stands out as a very good-looking youth. Even next to my absolutely adorable bear-themed butler in training. When Yuna laughs out unrestrained, he gets more than a few second glances.

It could be flattering. But there are too many way too old people, not just young maidens, who glance back with a slightly dazed look.

“Moving on.” I clap, demanding the march.

“Yes, listen to the princess. Best get moving Georgie-bear.” Yuna copies my little claps and smirks at my still flustered assistant.

“Gonna put a cat bell on you one day, pretty boy. Gonna make you so damn cute you choke and die at yourself. ” Georgie grumbles in frustration at his unlikely friend, escorting me as both Yuna and Tamera continue laughing at him.

Especially when he walks away, the attached fuzzball of a tail moving with each step. Their volume still ever-growing and attracting passing attention.

Ah such fun.

“Ahahahaha! Ha! Cute enough to hunt down and eat! Whoooooo boy. Shame Vinny’s missing out on this. ” Tamera wipes the tears from her eyes.

“Real shame. I get to miss out on him dying. Again.” Yuna rolls his eyes, directing Amar and Lukas from running off.

“Oi, not too far you brats. You’re dolled up like rich targets today. ” Yuna warns them, roughly taking Amar’s hand.

With Lukas on Amar’s other hand, and Yuna leading, they look like a pathetic little choo choo train. Not that trains exist here but the image sticks.

Tamera laughs, but she stays back, scouting the area. A couple of birds flap around up above and she nods, continuing to walk along with us.

We stop by every booth we can. Lots of detours at this autumn ‘tasting’ festival.

My goal is food, but sometimes it’s nice to give myself more time to digest and look around. More importantly, stop and stare at all the technical details that can be clearly improved.

Layout and space safety.

Lack of information and front booths.

Hygiene standards.

All that and more. I couldn’t even stop myself if I wanted to. The experiences years I spent working in this field, in every practical event planning and comparing, makes it almost like another instinct. Working mode always on, even in things like this. Always taking in another reference to use. I’m only missing my phone, camera, and crews.

I’m missing my nagging manager Yao for this. Or my silly co-workers.

Or even sillier tag alongs.

“If I have to taste another bland tasteless thing only salvageable by being fried in crude oils all around, I’m going to throw myself into the ocean.” Georgie complains at another D rated stall.

“Free food is free” Yuna splits the oily leftovers with Tamera. The two soldiers taking in the most calories with Lukas not far behind.

“Nah he’s got a point. It gets pretty tiring at some point. Like the seafood here are great, and you can’t go wrong with fried but a lot of the offerings are pretty much the same. ” Tamera chews down on another fried polenta, popping olives, dried smoked meats, and other little snack foods like a true champ, carrying most everything.

It’s true. There’s not a lot of variety in the cooked food offerings. The same kind of street offerings you can see anywhere around here with few variations.

Any stall with a bit more creativity or foreign tastes immediately stands out, and reasonably more popular. It doesn’t need my judgment for the masses to see that.

First time festivals are always messy, and this one is no exception. I suppose it can only run as well as it does with my father, and most likely my grandpa, as the behind the scenes host and sponsor.

It is after all my family’s ports.

Thus the turnout is quite high.

The fresh produce and natural selections are much more interesting though, even if they’re common. Things taste best when they’re in season. It’s worth the trip then, for the farmers who set up stalls. Even more so if they were savy and risky enough to do produce selling and cooking.

The tastes speak for themselves!

“Needs more bacon! Here” Lukas declares, handing Amar the rest of a very strange fried vegetable. Only veggies are safe from Lukas’s monstrous mouth.

“Yummy.” the other boy crunches down, slow and steady.

Amar’s much pickier than Lukas, but that’s not saying much. When he does like something, his little tummy is just as strong and worryingly infinite. ….Well, I suppose it’s a good thing to feed this one a bit more?

“Trade. Don’t be picky, you gotta taste everything at least once. ” I demand, handing him my grilled cheese mushroom for the fake tempura.

I think this is a good way to get Lilyanne into veggies. This world is amazing for breeding a mushroom that tastes and melts like a semi-soft cheese! How fascinating! It can be eaten on its own or mashed and grounded into further cheesy like applications.

“I smell meat?!” Lukas drools, turning his head up

“Smells a little sweet? Not meat. Fake meat. ” Amar nods to the scent while pulling a long string of cheese in his nibbles.

“It’s so aromatic? What is it?” I hand Georgie the rest of my stick but order three more different fried and grilled veggies to go.

Or at least I think they’re veggies?

Ah, what strange and tasty things this world has? So many different textures and applications. From those cheese shrooms to berries that pop and sizzle like fizzy candy. So many.

With such naturally tasty produce, it’s disappointing but no wonder that cooking here tends to be so rustic and simplistic. Give or take the region and their specialties.

Lukas runs up to the stall with the strangely familiar, but not, tasty scent.

They look like apples. Grilling apples.

“Meat apples!” Lukas hops in excitement.

Ah yes, how could I forget? This world has meat apples, though it’s not native to my territory. Much more common in more…apple bearing regions. Either to the West or North of here.

Please don’t bite down raw. Please cook it like any other meat. Apparently, there are trees and species that taste more or less like different meats. But in some places, much colder places, they’re common enough to be considered peasant fare.

I remember.

I remember a certain not so considerate fiancee of mine. These strange apples weren’t native to my home, and thus I had reasonably and curiously asked about them at one of our unfortunate meetings. Those long dragged out tea times.

Even sweets get tiring when it’s all the same, year after year. Without anyone’s knowledge, I already had Alfonso and the secret guards arrange for me a serving. Both in my own private quarters and to sneak me out to some common street stall in the middle of winter. It really does taste best-grilled whole.

I was just bringing up small talk. Differences. Trade. I don’t know, whatever we’re supposed to do in our official meeting time together.

Not only did that stupid rock coldly brush me off then, he even scoffed at me.

“So there are things even you don’t know? I suppose …it’s a testament to your ladyship to be so ignorantly uninformed. Especially of the peons. Too poor and weak to afford meat, they can only gather those things. Are such unimportant things what you waste your spare time in? Isn’t it better to spend more time with your ill sister, waiting for you?”

It was the most he spoke to me that year. More than a lot of years.

I would have preferred he ignored me as usual, or even left it at that. But no. The next month, after I had returned back to my territory, my fiancee had sent me cases of them.

Rotting.

Me. Specifically. With orders, no one else should open. I was assaulted with horrors that nearly knocked me out, had I not ignored those instructions and had my guards do it for me from a safe distance.

They’re meat apples?! Do you know what that smells like?

Oh the stench?! The mess!!! Almost as bad as a pile of corpses, but with all the rot! Oh and don’t get me started on the pests that gathered and were squirming around. Absolutely disgusting! A pure waste and treacherous statement!

“Disgusting…so disgusting.” I shake in memory and fear, feeling it as if it were my own real experiences.

“Noooooooo they’re really yummy Rosa. Because they taste like…BACON! But you can go crunch crunch munch into the whole fruit.” Lukas points and waves to the roasting apples.

“Rosa? Are you okay? Are you feeling sleepy and weird again?” Amar asks, poking my sides.

“Fine!” I brush off, staring moodily at nothing in particular.

All those tasty meat apples. Gone to waste. That just goes to show why the north had such food shortages, suspectable to famines, and slower recovery periods. Not just because of the bad weather. That idiot of a prince was there as it’s the heir.

Disgusting.

Is it even worth reaching out a hand to saving his pathetic land? The common citizens, those poor apple munching peasants, are innocent. But I’m no hero.

I don’t even know how to save myself.

“…Do you wanna see the apples better?” Amar bothers my thoughts again with a shake and hold of my shoulders.

In his own way, he’s not relenting in treating me like a stupid baby about to fall over in a spontaneous nap. A little too worried about a repeat of last year’s harvest. His stupid little head turns too obvious and panicked in signaling all the babysitters to look after me closer.

“…Fine.” I relent, thus allowing Georgie to pick me up into his arms. If anything to get a better view of the grilling fruit over the market stalls.

“One of each flavor,” I growl out my orders.

“One of each variety?” Georgie cautiously looks over to every nodding and grinning head.

The babysitters have been mostly eating my leftovers, after all, I have a game plan to not get too full, but some things they’ll get on their own. This seems like a popular choice. And so, everyone gets a meat apple, all the meat apples apparently.

“A- on the offerings alone, because your competition is just so sad. You’ll be more popular if you offer sliced options for sharing. Even if it’s just half apples to mix and match flavors.” I rank and judge the poor bumbling stall keepers.

“Sheesh Rosa! Say thanks!” Lukas sticks a tongue at me, repeating my own lesson from earlier back at me.

My glare is mistaken by the stallkeepers and the workers rush to chop up some of the finished grilled apples. They even add tiny toothpicks to them.

“Thank you. You may have an A+ rating now due to service.” I thank them, getting sighs of relief all around as well as reverently bowing thanks.

Is it just me or is service getting better all around the further we go? In fact, many places refuse to even take my money anymore. Not even if the babysitters offer to pay.

Oh well.

I much on my bite-sized apples pieces and it’s tasty. Meat apples are so juicy and delicious even when grilled with nothing but their own apple skin and juices. Very tasty, the delectable juice squirting out with each bite.

“Moving on! It doesn’t matter if it’s common or boring or only good for peons to eat as cheap fare. I shall take a bite of everything with rightful judgement. Everything!” my gluttony knows no bounds.

Except for my kid-sized stomach. Burp. Just a few bites of everything. Nothing more.

“Whoa, now that’s a big fish. ” Yuna points to a section of the edge of the docks.

“Nice. Probably just caught a few hours ago, think they’ll be slicing it up soon? “Georgie’s eyes start sparkling at the prime ingredient.

“What do you think they’ll be doing with that big on sword and daggers on it? ” Tamera eyes the hanging deadly ocean fish for entirely different reasons.

Say the razor-sharp fins and very obvious chainsaw of a head. Like a swordfish, but uh…much sharper. Obviously bigger. What’s wrong with this world? Is there more oxygen or something? Why are so many things so huge?

“I can catch bigger ones.” Lukas brags with his apple stick raised high, marching and munching.

“We didn’t catch them, they ate us? Then it swam off with us inside. ” Amar reminds, only for Lukas to stuff half an apple into his little mouth.

“Get fatter. Fat fat fat!” Lukas happily threatens, sounding suspiciously like my own mother in that tone.

I think he’s learning bad influences being around my family too much.

“Let’s take a better look,” Georgie can hardly hold back his excitement, in fact, he’s already power walking over there.

“But calamari.” I pull him back by the cutesey ribbon on his neck, much like the reigns on a horse.

And so, we stop by the stall midway, picking up little cups and buckets of chopped calamari and seafood. Complete with little wedges of lemon.

“A! But I suggest you invest in experimenting with dipping sauces. Try it by next year, try it! Marinara!” I munch away, still giving rankings and advice even as Georgie drags me away from the stall. Helpless in his arms while popping hot crispy fried oysters and calamari into my mouth like popcorn.

“What’s Marinara? Wasn’t it one of the pizzas? ” Tamera asks not so quietly.

“Blood sauce! Kinda chunky blood sauce.” Lukas exclaims in explanation.

“…I think I’m good with them plain with lemon or vinegar.” Tamera munches a little slower at the thought.

“No that brat means tomatoes, it’s red. The plain red tomato sauce with onions and shit. ” Yuna translates a little tiredly, oddly fluent at Lukas speech.

“Oh oh oh get some good seats, I wanna see how they slice this species up. ” Georgie squeals in glee as the crowd gets rowdy over the hanging literal swordfish.

An announcement bellows out from a senior fisherman with one of grampa’s strange megaphones. A bidding auction for the sword pieces on the catch. Something that has Tamera forcing her way through, making a seat for us all

“I’m thirsty.” Amar finishes up his cup of fried goodies and tugs up at the older blond. Immediately drawing Yuna’s attention.

It’s subtle, but there’s obvious favoritism from the grumpy cat. The normal harsh teen may say rude things or give those classic rebellious teenaged expressions, but he always goes to hold Amar’s hand or keep watch of that boy first.

To be fair Amar is a lot easier to keep track of than Lukas. Normally.

“Well then what are we waiting for? Yo, I’m taking this one. Ya’ll want anything? ” Yuna doesn’t even bother sitting down, taking Amar’s hand the moment the boy wipes himself clean of crumbs.

“Whatever you’re having!” Tamera waves him off, eyes on the prize.

“Same. ” Georgie drools a bit over the fish as if imagining all the ways it could be sliced, maimed and burned into a dish worthy of my table.

“I want that sword. ” Lukas points.

“So does everyone brat, get in line and shell out that cash. ” Tamera laughs, ruffling his hair as she sets him down into her lap.

Amar tugs the older boy from his fingers, something that Yuna responds to easily by bending down to hear his whispers. With them though, Yuna sighs and rolls his eyes.

“And the princess too. Come on. Pick what you want to drink yourself so I don’t get any complaints.” Yuna makes the grabby motions over to Georgie. Indicating for him to just hand me over like it was automatic.

Something my little assistant practically throws me over into his arms. How rude!

Is a big fish more important than me?!

“Let’s go before they start cutting guts.” Amar tugs Yuna along.

“Really now princess. You get scared of this shit? That’s no big deal you brat, the problem is not saying anything and sitting through it. Like an idiot.” Yuna scolds me for nothing, readjusting me to at least be comfortable in his arm.

I think there is a big misunderstanding going on.

“I don’t get scared? I love fish!” I defend myself from the false accusations.

“You like bacon too. ” Amar gives me the side-eye up.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I would demand and pull, but I am up here and the kid is down there.

It was once! Once! I’m not even scared of pigs or slaughter or anything like that. Blood? I’m Rosalia Ventrella? I make blood run, not the other way around. It was one freak moment of unexpected weakness on my part.

I am reasonably traumatized from getting pathetically murdered once, after all. Not that anyone needs to know that.

“I got in big trouble last time, even though I didn’t do anything? Not fun.” Amar complains a bit.

My anger at getting misunderstood deflates a bit with that. Ah it really can’t be helped, I have a cover to put up with and everyone lives with that repercussion. Even the kiddies.

“Sorry. ” I say out, not being specific or anything like that.

“Alright brats. Good enough. Now. Let’s go eat without those losers. ” Yuna grins wide enough to see his sharp canines and we both nod along to that plan.

Onwards!

“Quince Juice.” I point to one yellow stacked stall.

“Almond milk.” Amar tugs and points to another, bubbling and boiling the nuts into a creamy hot beverage.

“We can do both. ” Yuna, the greedy teenager, does more than just compromise.

Hot wooden cups of steaming local mandorle almond milk, naturally a bit sweet and with just a hint of added cinnamon, come first. No wonder Amar sniffed this stall out. It’s a very satisfying warmth against the slightly chilly ocean air. It’s when we finish up to return the stall’s cups, me passing a stamp of that rare A+ rating, that trouble decides to rear its ugly head.

“Hey there cutie. Aren’t you a little too young to be single with some brats?” A group of guys comes out of their dark corner, hitting on my baby sitter.

“It’s dangerous out there, want some company?” another one fake bows. Mostly ignoring us short little ones, if not to use us as a pickup excuse.

“Fuck off.” Yuna goes straight to the point.

“Oooooh, a nasty one. Nothing wrong with that. You sure you’re fit enough to be guarding some fancy young little masters? How about -” another faceless mob taunts.

“Take another step near them, and I’ll chop off your all your digits. ” Yuna grins, crossing his arms in a show of attitude.

Something tells me it’s nowhere near an empty threat. Another part of me shivers that he has a little too much experience in that.

“Oh come on honey, we don’t mean no harm. Little thing like you? All alone like this? You got it tough? How about we buy you a drink, buy you a break protecting those kids. Win-win?” sleazy number whatever says, reaching as arm over.

Yuna disappears before Amar pulls my hand to drag me behind him. Without even being able to track his movements, Yuna has that guy with his arm twisted over his own head. The screams of pain coming a little too late in the shock and surprise of his speed. Before he goes down, his pants falls, as if sliced at all the important parts holding them up.

Oh my poor eyes.

“I said I’d cut it off,” the small teen plays with a pouch, the other man’s stolen money purse, ” but you can’t even afford half a minute of my knife with this much. ”

“G-get him!” one of them gather’s his sense enough to order out.

“Maybe if you all hand over your cash and valuables, you can scrape together enough to kiss the floor I’m stepping on. Would you like that?” Yuna laughs eerily calm.

“Yuna? There’s more. A lot more.” Amar sniffs the air, pulling me close.

“It’s a stupid trap to catch you brats.” The teenager flips himself up and over, easily piling up the goons in a mess of violence, collecting purses and wallets as he goes.

This time, however, it’s not just pants and purses he aims for. Yuna goes low, leaving a trail of blood splatter and cut ligaments. Ankles, knees, and screeches.

“Wanna play a game?! It’s really good, I promise.” Amar yells up at the ceiling, before turning over to me. His usual dopeness intensified like a child who found something very amusing.

A dark figure drops down from the support beams, standing out far too much in daylight. Too tall, too dark, even in a hood.

“Him…” I feel myself wonder over Amar’s strange words, though I recognize one of my father’s men.

“Awww that’s not as fun? But ok. That’s fair. ” Amar says when the man stretches his arms out silently.

“Rosa, they’re here to pick you up. Sorry, you can’t play. ” Amar opens up as if to hand me over to the hidden guard

“Hey wait wait wait, I don’t trust you and your games. You always do something stupid on your own.” I cling on the kid’s sailor suit, for he really does have a bad history of shit he finds fun.

“Ah. You really want to play too, don’t you?” Amar tilts his head with a very big smile.

No. No I do not! Especially not anything I don’t understand!

I just wanted to eat the world like a little piggie. Not that I am a piggie. Was that too much to ask?

“Okay. If you wanna stop, run to a guard. If you wanna play, run and fall backward. There’s a trap behind us. I’ll go left, and we’ll meet up? Bye bye for now.” he laughs, patting me on the head, easily prying my little fingers off.

He really does run left, but too slow. Too loud. Not like him at all.

“Got one!” another hidden pair of men scoop the running kid up. Easy for the picking.

“You’re very silly.” Amar giggles at them.

“Oh, you know what. I’ll chop your hands off for free.” Yuna growls out, getting distracted by Amar’s ‘kidnapping’.

“Come on, It will be fun? ” Amar waves at the not so secret guard the split second before he disappears with the kidnappers. A setup path already established in their plans.

The secret guard sighs, bringing a gloved hand to this masked face as if to rub his temples.

And like same, what a mood.

If it wasn’t obvious enough, it’s official now. My minion is heavily brain damaged. He can’t operate like a normal fear feeling child. Please don’t even talk about common sense.

“Take me back to the others and send a unit to follow after him, sheesh!” I order up, unseeing of all the guards but knowing without a doubt they’re there.

Unlike a certain very dumb child, I am not in the mood to play stupid games with child kidnappers. Thus I obviously choose to step forward with my own family guards. Duh

One step though has me almost slipping on something strange. A little lump on the floor.

I lift my foot and scream for dear life.

“AHHHHH! DOLL?! bAD DOLL?!!? BAD PONYO-CORA-ANABELLE!!!!? Ahhhhhh!!!” I screech.

Not just at the sudden appearance of the quite possibly haunted doll on the floor. But it’s appearance!? Red short hair, little blue and white dress, tiny sailor hat? Why is it dressed like me?! hOW IS THAT POSSIBLE!?AAAAAHHHHH!!!

Somehow, the floor breaks below my feet after I jump away in shocked fear. Being that this is a port, there’s plenty of water around and down before. However, it should not be so shoddily built to the point of breakage?

“Got the girl!” a small speedboat already propels me away before I even land, not in the cold bay water but a barely cushioned cage.

What. The. Fuck?!

“Just look at those clothes on that one. Man wonder how much she’ll be worth?” laughs one of the goons.

Do they not even know who I am? Me?! Did the stupid trash just kidnap me without knowing who I am?

“…Um..is it just me or is this kid kinda….scary?” one of them points out.

“You will die.” I do not threaten, but merely tell them the truth through the little bars of my cage.

“…Meh, it’s a little rich girl. Not even old enough for baptism. What don’t tell me you’re scared of babies now?” the driver laughs.

“I don’t know boss, I get this kinda bad feeling, ” a third one raises.

“Just throw a blanket over it if it scares you too much. Man red hair? Even if we can’t get a good ransom, she could sell for quite a bit on the southern slave market for that alone. Good face, looks to be a beauty, we’ll make a killing regardless. ”

“You will all die painful gruesome deaths, and that’s if you’re lucky” I repeat their fates again, and this time they really do throw a blanket over my cage.

In the darkness, I am forced to calm myself down and go over my survival plans.

While I have predicted I may get kidnapped again, with my identity, I did not think it would be like this.

“There are more. A lot more,” I repeat a certain brat’s words to myself out loud, piecing together all the clues.

Amar didn’t mean these creepy goons. Kids. He meant kids. There are more being kidnapped today, not just us! And the fact that we got taken means we’re being brought to the holding, where others may be.

Oh ho ho Sherlock Holmes, eat your heart out. Rosalia is here!

Whoa! Okay standing up was a bad idea, cage is rocky in boats. Oh wait no, I’m being moved?

Pulling away the edges of the blanket, I can peek and see ocean water and a much larger ship. One that’s currently being loaded with the speed boat.

The main holding. Oh ho ho ho! I knew it.

One stupid thing I don’t understand is how the kidnappers can get away with it. Can’t people just see and follow their stupid speed boat as they take their victims aboard this specific ship. Sure it’s floating out in open water but it’s still followable, right?

Or is there some device going on that cloaks them? But even if it did, one could see the water trails momentarily left?

Curiously I tap down through the cage.

Nope. Nothing. Can’t feel a thing. Is it because there’s no Lilyanne to source me with magic? Pffft this sucks. I knock again and nada.

“Did the buoy malfunction? It was kinda funny during the ride” one of the goons asks.

“Meh, best to take a break and get the boats looked after. It’s fine, we probably made more a profit with the two rich ones than any of the others. ” the driver’s deeper voice sounds out.

“I’ve never seen clothes that detailed or fine?” a new voice comes out.

“Or a kid that creepy…he’s very cute, no lie, I can think of some private buyers that would take him right away but….he was just smiling and laughing at us the whole time.” another sounds to be shaken.

“Don’t worry about it. Even nobles have a few loose screws. You should see the little redhead girl we caught. She kept trying to threaten we were going to ‘die’. Ahaha! Hilarious! ”

My cage rocks as it gets darker and darker on board. Soon to the point where there’s no need to even peek through the blankets. The air getting damper and more disgustingly foul. Whimpers and cries of not just small children but young attractive sounding women. Their sobs quite distinctive, very Lilyanne like.

Oh ho ho! What a big operation we have going on here?!

“Alright. The little prime cut meats can stay in here. Don’t want you too bruised up either way. ”

My cage is slid, one side opening enough for me to crawl out to a small hay-covered cell. A single tiny porthole window of alabaster or bone letting in murky sunlight.

“Rosa! You came after all? Knew you wanted to play.” Amar was already sitting in place, a tiny hamster in the middle of all this hay.

When I wobble out, he crawls over to help cushion the blow.

Urh, I think I’m already a little seasick from the speedboat, or just the moving me in general. Please don’t transport kids by a cage. Really bad time.

“Ah, over here. Do you have a water flask in your baggie?” the kid pulls me into the darker corner, away from any guarding eyes.

I nod, trying to hold in my nausea. Though I feel like I should just vomit all over him. Just for thinking this was a good idea to get involved in, at all.

A game? I’ll show you a game if it wouldn’t be so disgusting to live with my own sickness all over this small space. It’s smelly enough in here.

“Here, eat this and wash it down. Say ahhh.” he holds an herbal smelling pill in front of my mouth.

I pout and puff my cheeks.

“Ahhh. Rosa? It’s not tasty but it will make you feel better? Please? Ahhh. And this one too.” he stuffs it into my mouth regardless, and I claw at him even though I swallow down the medications.

Too bad my little well maintained nails were just cut and no use at all.

“Are you having fun? Is this the fun game? News flash, it’s not fun at all. ” I kick a bundle of hay after I choke down some water. With a rightfully dramatic hand, I gesture to the holding barely illuminated by our window.

It’s true that our modest cell is the most luxurious of all. Every other one is filled with people. Kids. Women. All young and helpless. Some are fighting among themselves, but for the most part, they cry. Curled up into themselves and various stages of health. Some have clearly been in here far longer than just today.

“Of course this isn’t the fun part? This is the sad part. Ah, I think Yuna will be sad if he sees this. I hope not too much?” Amar nods, eyes scanning the scene through what we can see through the cage.

“…how much do you know about what happened to Yuna?” I finally ask, maybe at the wrong time

But when is ever the right time for a topic like that?

“I don’t know? How much do you know? Are we even supposed to know?” the kid crosses his legs and tilts his head.

I facepalm for lack of an answer. The most obvious one is no, no we’re not.

“I don’t want Yuna to be sad. He acts mad a lot, but really it’s just because he’s scared and sad. He doesn’t like chains. He doesn’t like people calling him pretty or thinking he’s a girl. He sleeps with his knives and daggers. Like me, he likes sleeping next to walls. Because that’s one more safe spot, and no one can get you on that side. ” Amar counts off, his words dragging out.

I look over to where his line of sight seems to be. Seeing nothing but crying women and children.

A young child, smaller than me, sobs into his mother’s arms, wailing. It does nothing but get a guard to yell at them to shut up. The noise startles the toddler and the mother tries her best to muffle the child’s cries.

“Stupid baby.” Amar seems to say.

Two guards and another man point, discussing something between themselves. They make to open the cell containing the crying child, pulling him away from the begging mother. She pleads with them, pulled up for a split second. As if her wish was granted. Only to be dragged out the cell herself, a guard and the man carrying her kicking and screaming up and away to the surface, the child taken elsewhere. Somewhere more soundproof.

“Really stupid.” Amar finally breaks his gaze on that horrifying sight. As if he understood everything that could possibly happen. Things no child should know.

“Rosa? Can I borrow one of your knitting needles?” he asks me politely.

A strange scent finally registers to me, one much more pleasant than the waste and musk the damp hay soaked up. It was already that way for a while, slowly getting stronger since I arrived. Looking over quickly, I notice how much of the cells next to us has already fallen asleep.

“You?” I look over to my cellmate.

The medicine I just ate? It wasn’t just for motion sickness, was it.

“Needle please?” he asks again.

“No need” I huff at him, picking the stupid oversized lock myself.

I keep more than just knitting crafts in my purse. Sheesh. To think I’d be using my commission skeleton key ring so soon, and here of all places. There are only so many unique combinations in medieval warded locks. Lucky for me, these backward warded locks are much easier to break through than modern ones. You can’t skeleton key those.

Nor can you skeleton key anything in my own house, but hey that’s a good thing. It’s everyone else that’s behind, and I’ll use that to my own benefit.

“Ah, I knew it. Having you along is a lot more fun.” the brain-damaged brat rains on the praise as the locks click open.

It’s because he’s too brain-damaged. That’s why he looks so sad like he knows a little too much of everything. That’s all. Just that.

“It isn’t fun idiot. Now what?”

“I don’t know?” he lies.

Already pulling us out and closing the cell gate back quietly, Amar pressing down on my head to indicate we need to keep low.

Not too hard with all this hay everywhere.

“Go unlock everyone, I’ll take care of the guard?” he whispers to me lightly.

There’s a lot I can complain about this very bad plan, but I nod and agree none the less. With that we split up, or more like he runs off while I go do the actual saving. I start with the sleeping snoozing cells, creaking the gates open just a bit for anyone inside to notice. Should they wake up.

Ah yes, a horrible cursed slave ship. Taken apart by two kiddos in sailor suits. Yep. Definitely how I saw my day going.

Maybe I should have waited for mother and father to take me after all?

“Eep, huh?”

“Ssshhhhhh!” I make a similar type of silent warning to people in still awake cells. Strangely it’s always children who notice me first, if at all. Maybe due to our similar small sizes and statures.

“Ssssshhh” I keep motioning for silence, but unfortunately, not everyone is born with a brain.

“We’e saved!”

“Please, hurry!”

“A noble?! So tiny!”

“Me next!”

Is there something wrong with the IQs of these people? I get it’s a different world and all with different education standards but… seriously! Isn’t it just common sense not to scream out like that!? No wonder you were all so easily caught!?

Thankfully I am not caught from everyone’s stupid screaming and cheering. For there is not a single guard or slaver on the floor.

That brat is a little too effective.

“Quiet and careful. Do you all want to be caught right away? Be loud again and I leave you here, you’ll only get in the way. Remember, one more sound!” I hiss, threatening with the still locked bars.

Once I got every gate unlocked, so people could at least leave their cells, reunited with others across bars or staggering to the hallways over being trapped in there, I make may up. Slowly. Carefully. Threatening people once more if they make noise we’ll all be caught.

It’s very unlikely that people would or should listen to a toddler, but the weight of a ‘noble’ carries an unreasonable amount of power and expectations. Just by the way I talk and dress, people already expect more from me despite my age. The young women have these children hushed and listening. Though they do seem to be getting drowsier and sleepier.

Worrisome but convenient.

The ship rocks violently, and I’m glad my motion sickness doesn’t kick in.

“Unforgiveable! Taking my sidekicks is a big NO NO!!!!” it rocks me to the other side, a little high pitched voice resounding from outside far more worrisome than any slavers.

It can’t be. But it is.

I poke my head out to the surface of the ship, the battleground I really was better off missing out on.

A human cannonball whizzes right by me, thrown at a great force. Ice chunks litter the sea. Seagulls pecking and attacking every working man on this ship.

“Yaaaaay! Smash smash grampy smash!” an even more terrifying voice rings out up high. I dare look and see nothing but a spot of yellow, like the sun itself.

But no, it is not the sun. It is Lilyanne, a ball of puffy yellow in her baby chick onesie.

Even worse, and far more distracting, is the man carrying her.

Tall, broad shoulder, his silhouette dramatically shadowing across the ship up high. All in…a white chicken onesie. Or is he a rooster?

Either way, I feel like fainting.

“Rosa!” my sister points out, spotting me with eagle eyes despite the considerable distance from mast to where I found my way onto the open deck.

“Ah yes, that’s where the tracker was beeping! Good job my little heroine Rosalia! So young yet so ready to drop everything and save all these innocent people!” the mighty rooster jumps down. Full superhero cool pose with his knee bent and squatting.

Realistically that landing has to hurt or at least be bad for one’s knees. But when has anything ever made sense in this world? Let alone with these characters?

“My sidekicks! Not yours! Bad, go get your own! But not like this!” sailor Lukas goes charging through some not so imposing kidnappers.

Maybe because he has iced part of the deck completely to his advantage, causing people to slip and slide all over the place.

“Remember to melt all that ice before the ships come aboard Lukas-poo” Grampa calls out after him, picking me up in his other arm.

“Rosa no fair! Rosa run off without Lily!” my sister complains, looking extra cute with her bangs braided and hair done underneath the yellow chick hood.

“…I’m…no fair….you went with Gable! I know it! ” I yell back, feeling all my frustrations come to the surface since I’m unable to deal with …this.

“No fair no fair, Rosa bad. ” Lily cries.

“Now now girls, let’s focus on saving the day first. Then you can fight for dominance!” grampa laughs at us, bringing up to the front of the overtaken ship. Being sailed back to port with great fanfare.

From there I can see uncle Geoff, looking far too old and tired for this, stuck steering the ship. Somewhere on the side, Tamera laughs like a crazy bird lady, flinging bird feed at the army of seagulls and pelicans. Down by the sides of the ship, smaller boats flank. On the closest leading one I can see Georgie, screaming and pointing in his little bear butler suit at a not so secret guard.

The only people I can’t account for are….Yuna…and of course Amar.

“Secured!” another newly familiar voice sounds out.

I look up to see the flutter of long fluffy black skirts, kept modest by boots and layers underneath. A strange figure of maid cosplay dreams holding an automatic crossbow and magical communication device. Her normally long braided dark hair pinned up and ribboned properly.

A maid. A dream victorian maid stands there in the glory of wind, waves and …bear ears!!!

Ah, maybe today was a bad day to mandate my punishment outfits for the onesies. At least the maid dress suits Cass very well. Even much more so than Abbey. So cool looking, even with the cute teddy bear attachments.

“Not bad newbie! Keep up the good work!” Grampa gives her a close to a compliment as one of his station can give.

I wish I can say it’s all better. The day is saved. Eventually the ship docks with great security but even greater fanfare. Onlookers all witnessing the drama and excitement of such a capture and crime.

They cheer even harder when grampa steps off, recognizable even in a chicken suit. It’s made all the worse with Lilyanne and me in each arm.

If people didn’t recognize me before, they most certainly do now.

I wish I could say it was all ok. Because it is. I was never in any real danger and so many people were saved this way.

“Amar? And Yuna? Where are they? ” I clamor over grampa’s shoulder

I know they’re still missing because I can still hear Lukas. Running around shouting the other boy’s name like they’re playing a shipwreck game of hide and seek.

“If I tell you not to worry about it, would you listen?” Grampa asks of me. His most vulnerable side only shown when in a crowd, playing the smiling fool.

“Of course not. They’re my minions. ” I say quietly, even if my voice is drowned out in all the noise.

“If it hurts. If it’s something they’re not willing to share, or let you near, what can you do? Even animals hide their wounds. ” grampa walks off, taking me further and further away from the ship.

“….More than this. I can do more than leave them alone to lick their wounds. They’re too stupid. ” I tell him into his ear, maybe more to myself than anything. I hardly notice with my grip goes white into the cloth of his stupid shoulder.

“Takes time darling. Give them time to trust you, or decide if they want to at all. ” grampa hums.

“….I don’t want to know, do I? What happened to either of them.” is what I understand.

“It’s not up to you my Rosie girl. ”

I can see from the entrance at bridges and planks are drawn, the grateful survivors lining out. Among them, I even see a bedraggled mother and child, still sobbing but together.

I don’t see my minion or grumpy teenager. I have a feeling I won’t for another mysteriously unknown amount of time.

“Unfortunately, I already invested a little too much money and information on those henchmen. Grampa….can you check up on them then? When this is over? ”

“….. yeah. Yeah sure pumpkin. ”

The way he says it, the pause in his voice, tells more than I need to know. That he already knows exactly how bad it is. That he’s seen it before.

And here I am playing baby, able to do nothing.

Yuna’s right to call me a princess. All I do is be served, and then in the far off future, be punished for it.

“Oh my babies! What troubles have you caused now! Rosalia what did you do?! Oh!!!” mother’s voice comes rushing up, ready to suffocate us.

“My love, please don’t run like that.” father naturally follows.

The sight of Lady Ventrella, my honorable mother, bouncing up to smother us in gross affection is becoming oddly familiar to me as well.

But what is she wearing?!!

“How could you be running off like that? You’re far too young and cute to be playing ‘hero’! Oh! What to do with you?!” a green ferocious fuzzy T-Rex comes at me, chomping down.

Who is responsible for all the onesies and how do I best punish them?

Are we still in public? Oh yes, yes we are. Our noble family image is further smeared in the great crazy. Wonderful.

Caring for myself is hard enough? How can I afford to look after others? Ah such a headache. How to cope with this all?

“You’re late. ” I throw back, accusing as well as distracting them.

“You’re all late! And I’m very hungry from all this activity? How could you?! You said we’d go together and then you didn’t. Are you nothing but deceiving liars?! Hmmpf!” I fake being mad, redirecting my frustrations.

“Liars!” Lilyanne repeats, pointing to my parents.

“Disgusting! Cruel beyond belief. Absolutely horrible examples of parenting for not taking us to the festival on time. Right Lilyanne.”

“Disgusting!” she parrots.

“Are we going to dawdle, soaking in your lies, or will you be making it up to us. Me and your innocent suffering daughter?” I pull at my sister.

With some very….exasperated looks at each other, my parents give in and proceed to not make trouble. Leaving the issues of the ship, and any souls still on it, in peace to their misery.

I continue on with my strange and oddly pleasant day. For that’s the best I can do. And it’s fun, it’s actually sincerely fun despite the oddity that is this strange family.

I drink a lot of juice and try not to remember any bitter aftertastes of medicines taken today.

Especially after grampa patted my head and said he was off, his own work of cleaning up and even taking Lukas home. Whatever that meant. Because Lukas very well invaded the port festival grounds again, running straight to my mother in tears with a broken swordfish blade and a trail of angry shop keepers after him.

The festival was more than a success and public event. Security is a brand new concern, but public fear squashed in today’s display.

Today was so strange and fun that I fell asleep there, most likely in my father’s arms, without even noticing it. And that’s that. I can only focus on my own life, lending out a hand and key where I can. That’s that.

Nothing more.

I hope it’s enough.