Chapter Two: The Need
Ten years later, the von Gikkingen family was attending another funeral; this being the one of the beloved grandmother.
Little Elly sniffed miserably, making her father search his pockets for another handkerchief. He never seemed to have quite enough to accommodate all the noses in the family.
He needed another hand, too, Baron decided as the coffin was solemnly lowered into the ground. Having three kittens and two hands seemed to cause more strife than he thought the occasion was worth. "Thomas, switch off," he whispered, making his striped son grimace slightly, but relinquish his father's hand all the same to his older sister, who clung to the hand as they accepted condolences from friends and acquaintances alike.
Even Prince Lune and Prince Edward came, although the human prince had a little trouble bending over to gravely shake hands, since the von Gikkingens were inescapably at feline height, since the charms that altered them to a human height weren't necessary right now.
"If my mother's cold had cleared up this morning, she would have come," Prince Edward offered sadly. "As things were, Father had to tie her to the bed to keep her down."
Baron chuckled, remembering that the queen and his mother had been close friends for years. "Tell her I appreciate her concern, Highness."
The dark prince nodded then bowed once to his feline counterpart, before returning to his carriage.
Prince Lune also clasped hands with his old friend. "I'd say something about my father, but it would ruin the moment. Just be sure to send word if you need anything, Baron."
"I'll be sure to, Highness. Thank you, for everything."
Lune nodded gravely, as his mismatched eyes briefly flicked over Baron's shoulder, making him chuckle darkly. "Better start running, Baron. She's coming this way."
The orange and cream tomcat stiffened, tightening his grip on Elly's hand slightly. "Thanks for the warning. Farewell, Lune."
The regal grey shorthair nodded once, and walked back to the royal rickshaw.
"Oh, Baron! It's absolutely dreadful, about your poor mother!"
The feline lord carefully fixed a polite smile on his face before turning to the speaker, who had been approaching him from behind.
She was lovely, Baron had to admit. Her fur was a rich red color, reminiscent of autumn leaves, and the black dress she was in fit her like a second coat of fur. She absently twirled a black parasol with her delicate paws over one shoulder as she artfully put on a face of compassion for the handsome lord's three children.
Unfortunately for her, Baron could read her like a book, and had done so since they had met, long before he had met Louise.
"For you three to be left so young without female guidance, it's such a shame. Well, if any of you need anything at all, you come to me, all right?"
"Yes, ma'am," the kittens said in unison, almost in monotone.
The red she-cat turned her huge black eyes up to their father, and batted them flirtatiously. "That goes double for you, Baron," she murmured softly.
He smiled stiffly, and released Elly's hand long enough to tip his hat in acknowledgement, and in farewell. "I'll be sure to do that, Sai," he said, almost through grated teeth. Immediately, he turned his children around, and headed from the family graveyard toward their modest manor house.
"Why are you always so nice to her, Father?" Thomas hissed as his fur stood on end underneath his black suit. Baron sighed, and gripped his son's gloved hand a little tighter.
"One thing you'll need to learn sooner or later, Thomas, is that just because you despise someone, doesn't mean that you can't treat them with courtesy. Believe me; it's easier to deal with undesirables when you refuse to stoop to their level."
"I don't like her," Elly announced firmly. "She makes my fur crawl."
Baron chuckled a bit, leaning down enough to pick her up, still being the smallest kitten of the litter. "To be perfectly honest, sweetheart, Sai makes my fur crawl too."
His eldest daughter tugged on one of his coat tails as he opened the side door to the family manor. "Father? What will we do without Grandmother?" Lily asked as she walked over to the tea cabinet, standing on her tiptoes to take two teacups as her brother did the same.
Baron sighed once more, setting his youngest down in order to pour the tea that had been warming throughout the funeral. "It will be difficult, I'll admit, but I think we can manage. You three are in school now. That should take care of you during most of the day." He poured the tea, and carefully monitored how much sugar and milk they individually mixed in as he placed precisely three drops of milk in his own tea. "I'll admit, evenings will be a bit more difficult, especially when I get called away for an assignment."
Not to mention the fact that his children were just learning to cook and clean, under the careful tutelage of their doting grandmother, and Baron wasn't confident enough of their abilities to leave them unattended in the kitchen, or even the house.
He shuddered, not liking his options.
Around a sip of tea, Lily spoke up. "What about a nanny, Father?"
Baron looked sharply at his eldest daughter, who already seemed so much wiser than her ten years of experience.
"I know you don't like the idea of servants, especially considering the borderland hazards, but what choice do we have?" she pressed. "Especially with villains like Renaldo Moon on the loose?"
Baron shuddered, remembering that terrible incident. He took another sip of tea, pondering his options. "All right. I'll phone the newspapers on both sides of the boundary. There's bound to be someone suitable."
"Can you make sure she can tell stories?" Elly piped up, her green eyes twinkling happily. "I miss stories."
Baron laughed, and kissed her forehead. "Of course. Any other requests, as long as we're discussing it?"
"Make sure that she can cook vegetarian meals," Lily pressed. "All this fish gets tiresome after a while, and it will be several more generations before someone in this family willingly eats a mouse."
Baron laughed, agreeing completely. Not even their mother had enjoyed eating mice, and she had been born a full-blood cat. "What about you, Thomas? Surely you have a request as well."
Thomas shrugged, tracing the teacup's edge with one finger. "Cleans well?" he suggested as his sisters laughed.
"That's part of the definition of housekeeper, silly!" Lily giggled as their father memorized the requests. He'd call the newspapers after the family finished their tea.
"Just to make sure you're aware, Thomas, just because I'll be paying her to keep the house clean doesn't mean that you'll be getting off scot-free. I'll make a point of talking to her about distribution of chores."
Thomas shrugged a bit, and sipped his tea. "Oh, well, it was worth a shot."