Finally, another story. Took forever to get FF to not be glitchy on my computer.

Rating: T

Warnings: suggested sexual content and slight language, future fluff

Summary: He was coming back home, and he wanted a party. The idiot.

Word Count: 465 words.


Merry frowned. Her slim digits fingered the marked parchment then, in a show of most unladylike grandeur, lobbed it in a roll across the desk to lightly smack her butler.

"Good shot, Miss Merry," he remarked dryly, retrieving the document from his feet.

A habitual thank-you was hastily flung aside as Merry stiffly asked Riff, "And exactly when did this arrive?"

"This morning at eight thirty-nine and fourteen seconds," he answered, placing the letter back on her desk. Moments later, it soared into his chest again. Evidently Oscar had taught the heiress something useful.

"And the ninny wants me to throw a feast for him today?!" she demanded. "He knows the mail routes' speeds well enough to calculate when I would receive his letter—and he still makes such rude orders?! I manage his estate to the best of my ability, I remove all female nuisances from the premises—" Here, the barely-adult's eyes glared at the picture frame that was seemingly glued to her desk. Despite her best efforts, Merry could not dislodge it from its position. The former owner of the desk seemed to regard the smiling lady quite well: her breasts were gargantuan, after all.

"—and what do I get for it?" She continued her tirade with a bratty stomp of her foot. "A letter demanding a welcome party for him with plenty of viable ladies and duchesses and who-have-you's as if he's still of unmarried status!" About to have a tantrum of disastrous proportions, Merryweather was stopped by a nearly-silent yawn.

Riff moved aside for the new visitor and she complained, "I'm hungry."

All angry antics forgotten, Merry knelt to the child's side and looked her in the eyes, a pair of green-gold's not unlike her father's. "Wait until supper like a good girl," she said sternly. Then her eyes softened at the babe's podgy cheeks. "Well, maybe just one tart. Go ask Kendra and tell her Mummy is too busy to worry about your appetite."

Her goal accomplished, the girl flounced out, feigned sleepiness a fading silhouette. Riff chuckled. "You spoil her, if I may say so."

"You may, because I don't deny it," Merry laughed, anger forgotten. Wistfully happy eyes trailed to the iridescent black opal ringed with white gold on her finger. She sighed, defeated at last.

"Follow Alice and tell Kendra to prepare the best banquet she can in three hours, then ask Gordon to prepare my horse, please," the countess ordered. "I have some heavy riding to do if I want at least ten hussies at this party."

"Right away, lady Hargreaves." Riff bowed out of the study and Merry turned to the other photograph on the cluttered desk. She smiled, then swept out of the room.

"Cain, you bastard. No Merry for you tonight."


chaos-naga does not own Count/Earl/Hakushaku Cain, the Cain Saga, or Godchild.