Cavall's Three Days of Giving

     The young Blue Cybunny smiled as he sat up; it was winter, which meant the large oak branches and the vines that usually covered his window were bare, and he had a much better view of the outside than he normally did. Wrapping his blanket around himself, he peered out the window and saw the pure white blanket of snow draped over the exposed hedge branches, the cobblestone paths and the frozen pond.

     Still in his nightshirt and blanket, Cathton stepped out of his bedroom, closing his door carefully and walking as quietly as possible down the hallway and into the spacious living room. The candles in the ornate chandelier overhead had already burned out early in the morning, but the sunlight streaming through the only window – which was etched with more bare vines – provided enough light for him to look around. Here were the cushy, patterned couch and matching armchairs; the pristine coffee table with several fragile knickknacks that Cathton knew to be made of real gold and gemstones; the paintings of his parents, Lord Lotham and Lady Elesia Wincott, mounted on the wall; and the plush carpet imported from Altador.

     But the highlight was the only sign that the Day of Giving had come to the manor: a tree decorated with shiny, colourful ornaments and glittery tinsel, with wrapped presents at its foot. Cathton didn’t need to go outside to know that his parents wouldn’t bother decorating the outside of their mansion.

     He approached the tree and knelt in front of it, examining the presents. Judging from their shapes, Cathton could make out one that resembled a stack of books – the books he had asked for as Day of Giving gifts. There was another that was soft to the touch, likely a plushie. Still another was in a box, and he shook it lightly. The contents rattled inside, but the Cybunny had no idea what they were, as he had already pinpointed the gifts that had been on his Day of Giving wish list.

     Cathton smiled ruefully, remembering a time when he had exclaimed that Santa Claws had come during the night to deliver everything on his list. He was around three years old at the time, and his parents had immediately chastised him for saying it was Santa Claws who was giving him presents. No, they had said, Santa Claws did not exist, and was a silly story not meant for young lords-in-waiting, especially when the lord-in-waiting in question had a mother and a father who could so easily give him everything he wanted.

     Not everything, he thought, staring at the presents after perfectly rearranging them the way they were when he had found them. He sighed, crossing his legs and reaching out to touch a silvery tree ornament in the shape of a crown. It left glitter on his fingers.

     “Cathton! Are you opening your presents already?”

     Jumping to his feet, his blanket falling away from him, he whipped around to find a Royal Cybunny standing in the doorway of the living room. She was clad in a plush lavender bathrobe over her silk nightgown and fluffy slippers, and she wagged a finger at him.

     “N-No, Mother,” he said, gesturing to the presents under the tree before hurriedly brushing the glitter off his hands. “I was waiting for you.”

     “Good. Remember what your father said. We always open our presents together.”

     “Yes, Mother.”

     “Now come on, your father does not want you to be late for breakfast, either.”

     * * *

     “It’s the complete set of books on the history of Krawk Island dubloons.” Cathton showed the unwrapped books to his parents, trying to look surprised and pleased.

     “It’s exactly what you wanted,” said the Royal Usul sitting in one armchair, sipping a cup of tea. On the coffee table in front of him was a miniature marble statue of himself in the middle of golden wrapping paper and string. “I got you those books, from that passing book seller I keep telling you about.” The Usul puffed out his chest with pride. “Now, what do you say?”

     “Thank you, Father,” said Cathton automatically, thumbing through the pages of Volume One.

     Lord Lotham’s brows furrowed ever so slightly. “Do you really mean that, Cathton? You certainly don’t sound like it.”

     Breathing in, Cathton repeated, “Thank you, Father. I’m real happy you got the books for me.”

     “See, you don’t need Santa Claws unlike those other kids. You have me, and your mother, who always know exactly what you want.”

     Not always. But Cathton didn’t dare utter those words aloud as he set aside the books and reached out for the soft present.

     “I bet you can’t guess what I bought for you,” said Elesia, running her hands through a beautiful dress that she had lifted from a red and white striped box.

     The Blue Cybunny arranged his face into what he hoped was his most expectant, excited expression. “Is it…is it a King Terask Plushie?” He immediately tore through the wrapping and, as though he had practiced it before, widened his eyes and his mouth into the biggest smile he could muster. “Thank you, Mother! Thank you so much!”

     “And that’s how you thank your parents,” Lotham commented, looking at Cathton over his cup of tea. “Aren’t you excited that we give you everything you ask for every Day of Giving, and every birthday, and more?”

     “O-Of course I am, Father.”

     Elesia sighed. “Don’t forget your studies, okay? Just because I gave you this new plushie to play with…”

     “No, Mother, I won’t.”

     “That’s our little lord,” said Lotham, beaming. “Now, open the last present. It’s from both of us.”

     “Oh, I can’t wait to see the look on his face when he sees what’s inside, Lotham!” Elesia poured him another cup of tea.

     Cathton got the box that still remained a mystery to him. Well, maybe this time I’ll be surprised for real. I really don’t know what’s inside. Ripping apart the wrapping paper and opening up the box, he peered inside.

     Oh.

     “Your very own office supplies!” exclaimed the Royal Cybunny. “Don’t you feel all grown up, like your father? Everything you need to be the perfect young lord. Recording books, only the best fountain pens, even a set of inkwells that will never spill, all in your favorite colours…”

     “And of course, your own seal,” said Lotham, nodding with approval as Cathton picked up the rubber stamp.

     ”My” seal? It’s our family crest. The W, the diamond and the sword…

     The Royal Usul knelt beside his son and patted his head. “We’re getting you ready for the real world. One day, we’ll finally present you at court as our worthy heir.”

     Cathton opened his mouth. He wanted to ask, “When?” But he found himself saying something entirely different.

     “Thank you, Mother. Thank you, Father.” His voice caught in his throat when he realised that he had sounded more subdued than he – no, his parents – would have preferred.

     And they noticed, too.

     “We worked hard to pick out only the best supplies for your continuing lessons,” said Elesia slowly. Dangerously. Her eyes narrowed. “Don’t you appreciate it, Cathton?”

     “Well, if they are not to your liking, you know you can tell us,” added Lotham brusquely, clearing his throat. “We’ll exchange them, if that’s what you want. After all, we only want you to be happy this Day of Giving. We only want to give you the best.”

     The Blue Cybunny shrank back from him, breathing in and out. Then he gave them a large smile that made the corners of his mouth twitch, and blurted out, “No, thank you, thank you! I’m very grateful! I’m going to use them…when I continue my lessons tomorrow!”

     Lotham and Elesia both relaxed, smiling right back. But Lotham’s smile, in particular, did not reach his eyes.

     “We’re so glad to hear that,” said Elesia, clasping her hands together.

     “Is there anything you and Father want as a gift, from me?” Cathton added hastily. “You give me presents, every Day of Giving, and every birthday, but you don’t ask me for anything.”

     “Excel in your studies. Grow up to be the great lord we have always wanted you to be,” answered Lotham, putting an arm around Cathton’s shoulders. “That is the greatest gift you can give us. “Our precious heir, who will carry on our family name.”

     “You are our greatest gift,” Elesia added. She stood up and then, smoothing out her skirts, she sat down on Cathton’s other side, embracing him.

     And the young Cybunny just sat there, the office supplies in his hands, his parents’ arms draped over him.

     He did not smile.

     * * *

     There was a question that was on the tip of Cathton’s tongue, as he watched Lotham and Elesia, who were resplendent in capes bordered with gold trim, silken robes in scarlet and forest green, and shiny accessories with gemstones. The two of them preened themselves in front of the full-length mirror in the master bedroom, and for a while, they did not notice their son standing awkwardly in the doorway, King Terask Plushie in hand.

     “If you get hungry, help yourself to the leftovers. That Day of Giving casserole is my specialty, and it’ll taste good even if you don’t heat it up,” said Elesia, sparing Cathton a mere glance as she moved toward the vanity table. “But no sweets.”

     “That’s why the Day of Giving cake was smaller this year. Too much sugar is too much energy for a young lord.” Lotham adjusted the small crown on his head and nodded at his reflection in the mirror. “You know what to do, Cathton. Never, ever, ever open the front door for anyone, shut all the windows, draw all the curtains, lock your bedroom door. Don’t bother waiting for us, we’ll be a little late.”

     “The count and countess of Noil’s Ridge really know how to throw a Day of Giving banquet, don’t they? And now’s our chance to close our deal.”

     “Absolutely. We won’t stop until we get that slice of their farmland. It’s perfect for a summer home. Well, once Cathton is older and after we unveil him for all the world to see.”

     Cathton opened his mouth, the question already on his lips.

     Maybe they’ll change their mind. Maybe this time…

     “What is it, Cathton?” the Royal Usul asked, meeting his son’s eyes.

     Cathton, glancing away from Lotham’s gaze, tried to find the words, but felt as though they had all vanished. Instead, he recalled the last time he asked that question, and flinched as he also recalled his father’s terrible glare, his mother’s pointing finger, their harsh words like thorns…

     Day of Giving is almost over. Maybe I shouldn’t ruin it.

     “Nothing.”

     “Good. Now be a good boy while your mother and I are gone, all right? You can do whatever you want tonight, just remember the house rules, don’t forget to go to bed at nine o’clock and remember that your lessons start again tomorrow.”

     Elesia swivelled around in her seat, lipstick in hand. “And don’t forget the most important rule.”

     Stifling a resigned sigh, Cathton drew himself to full height, clutching his plushie to his chest. He wondered if his mother had noticed him holding her Day of Giving present to him.

     “What’s the most important rule, Cathton?” Lotham said, as though he were talking to a subordinate in the workplace instead of a child.

     “Never leave the house,” the Blue Cybunny replied, raising his voice to what he had hoped was an acceptable tone: loud enough for his parents to hear him clearly, but not loud enough for them to think he was sassing them.

     “Exactly.” Lotham adjusted his jabot. “One day you will accompany us to these parties, but you aren’t ready. And some of the guests to this party…are terrible influences.”

     Elesia shook her head with disdain as she fetched a small silken purse that didn’t look like it could fit much. “Even those Noil’s Ridge nobles can be…ah, touchy. Anyway, Cathton, those kinds of Neopians would eat you alive once our backs are turned. And the things they can whisper into your ears…”

     “Yes, yes, I think Cathton knows he’s much safer here. But, son, since you are growing up, we’ll let you see us off at the front door. Just don’t step over the threshold.”

     “And lock the door right away once we’re gone.”

     “And shut the windows and the curtains. And try not to make too much noise.”

     Cathton merely nodded as he followed his parents out of their bedroom, and down the corridor – the maze of corridors.

     Well, at least I can spend the rest of today by myself. Even if I have to stay home alone.

To be continued…