Over the next three weeks, Lord Fluffington became the undisputed tyrant of the cliffside manor.
I had raised five chaotic beast-cubs, managed four overbearing Warlords, and run a high-end kitchen, but none of that prepared me for the sheer entitlement of a tiny yellow duck.
Cassian, who initially complained about avian hygiene, had entirely caved. He used his magic to weave a specialized, self-cleaning silk pillow for the duck to sleep on, claiming it was "to prevent cross-contamination," but I caught him hand-feeding the bird premium organic seeds when he thought no one was looking.
Rurik had taken it upon himself to train the "war-bird." This mostly consisted of the massive Wolf Warlord sitting on the patio, howling at the sky, and waiting for the tiny duckling to aggressively *honk* back.
