Peasants talked at him now. Peasants! First it was that French beggar-king, and now even the servants were making eye contact! The gall!

It didn’t help that he slunk more than skittered now.

Roderick was pulling petals off one of his mother’s favorite flowers when he startled far more mildly than years past – a mere jump of the shoulders rather than full-body hurling himself under the bench.

“I could ask the same of you,” he said, haughtily.

But he didn’t.