Did he know his master was dying?
Had they trained him to sense this?
“Hey,” I whispered to the dog. “Calm down, hey—”
I stopped when it turned toward me, barking with a fierce, guttural sound that knocked me off balance. I crawled back on my butt. Was this the dog I thought I knew?
“Okay, listen,” I said, raising my hands in surrender. His growls intensified, and I had no idea what to do. “You don’t want to do this. Calm down.”
Something in my tone shifted. The snarling stopped, and the hostility faded from his eyes. What replaced it was a deep, quiet sorrow. It was as though it understood the situation, and with that shift, I felt a pang in my chest.
The dog rested its head back on Artur’s chest, emitting a low, mournful sound. It knew. It understood what was happening.
I stood, my hands itching to comfort it. I loved dogs more than anything, and this sweet creature had been reduced to this. I was about to reach out to it when a voice cut through the room.
“What are you doing?”
Artur’s voice was low and strained, but still commanding. I blinked, my breath catching. Wasn’t he just dying? But there he was, propped up against the armrest, running a hand over the dog’s back.
The dog loved him too much, and to be honest, Artur loved it back. I took a step back as I smoothed my skirt, trying to regain some semblance of composure. My mind screamed at me to run, to leave before he could say anything more, but my feet refused to move. I held his gaze, and time stood still.
“Aren’t you supposed to have your dinner?” I asked, the words escaping before I could stop them. Did I really say that out loud? I quickly corrected myself. “I thought you died... though.”
What was I saying?
The silence hung between us like a thick fog. Artur’s jaw twitched, and he shifted, trying to sit up. My breath caught. I moved away to put distance between us.
“Just leave.”
I turned and left the room, feeling the weight of his gaze on my back. My mind wandered back to the dog, to the deep sorrow I had seen in his eyes. Could Vivo have done the same for me?Would he have cried out if he had seen me dying?
A sudden ache gnawed at my chest. The reminder of my dog came with a sting of homesickness. I wanted to curl up with my dog, feel the warmth of my family, even if it was just a fleeting memory. I missed home.
I walked into the girls’ quarters and collapsed onto my bed, burying my face in the pillow. The tears came, hot and uncontrollable. I missed my life. The memories from a time before clung to me, like ghosts that refused to leave.
I must have fallen asleep because someone shook me awake, their hand digging into my shoulder. I jerked upright, disoriented.
“What?” My voice was hoarse as I blinked.
“Girl, are you always eager to get into trouble?” Clara’s voice cut through the fog. “It’s noon, and you’re still in bed?”
Yawning, I flopped back on the bed, pulling the covers over my head. I was exhausted.
“Get up. The boss is around, so you need to serve him.” Clara nudged me again.
A groan escaped me, and I pulled myself up again. “I wish someone else could handle it.”
With a heavy sigh, Clara sank onto the bed beside me. “Girl, you’re the one working for him now. No one else can go near the East Wing. It’s on you.”
Memories of last night came crashing down on me. I couldn’t help but remember Artur lying in agony on that sofa. It was a puzzle I couldn’t solve. Something about it didn’t sit right.
Her voice snapped me out of my thoughts. “Aren’t you getting up?”
“I’m starving.” I dragged myself out of bed and headed for the washroom.
A shower was first on the agenda.
“I’ll finish what I was doing,” Clara yelled from outside.