way across the marble floor, one stroke at a time. She was not intimidated by this sort of work, as Toula no doubt had hoped. It gave her time to think of what she had overheard the night before, of Damon’s need for a scribe. She also learned the layout of the villa, particularly where Straton’s office was located, behind locked doors.
But soon the lye had turned her hands red, her skin itching and burning, and Evadne stopped to rest, sprawled in the center of the empty dining room. She groaned, drawing her right ankle closer to rub the stiffness away. That was when she noticed the dog, lying a few paces away in a patch of sunlight, watching her.
Evadne froze.
The dog blinked, raised his head as if he smelled her fear. His fur was long and copper brown, a few patches of white on his chest and paws. He did not have a malicious gleam in his eyes as the shepherd’s dog had, but all the same, Evadne was terrified.
She crawled away backward, keeping her eyes on the dog, dragging her bucket with her.
“By the gods, girl, what are you doing?”
Evadne whirled to see Toula standing in the dining room, bearing a tray of silver plates.
“Th-there’s a dog.”
Toula frowned, glancing to where the dog still rested in the sun.
“Arcalos is old and gentle. No need to be afraid of him.”
Evadne still hesitated, and Toula hefted a sigh. “Go on, girl. Finish the floor.”
Toula departed, and Evadne worked and silently cried, washing the floor with her tears. Arcalos did not move, but he reached his head out as if to nuzzle her.
She looked at the dog and saw nothing but gentleness in his eyes, his muzzle gray with age.
“You do not understand,” she whispered to him.
Arcalos only blinked, drowsy from the sun.
Evadne finished the floor in the dining room and moved down the corridor. She heard the clicking of nails and turned to see, in horror, Arcalos was following her, leaving a trail of paw prints on her drying floor.
“No, stop,” she pleaded.
Arcalos paused, smile-panting at her.
She would have to rescrub the floor again, to wash away his prints, and her back was aching and her skin felt like it would crack and peel away, and she knew she was one breath from sobbing. Evadne leaned against the wall. Arcalos approached her and lay down at her side, his fur warm against her legs. She had nowhere to go and was too exhausted to flee from him, and so she remained there in the shadows of the corridor, weeping quietly, with her worst nightmare curled up against her.
A whistle sounded down the hallway.
Arcalos’s ears perked, but he remained next to Evadne. Evadne did not move, did not breathe, praying that whoever it was did not stray down the corridor to find her so unraveled.
“Arcalos? Arcalos, come,” Damon called, and the dog instantly obeyed, struggling to rise as if he was just as stiff as Evadne.
Of course you would be Damon’s dog! Evadne thought, hurrying to her knees. She plunged her brush into the bucket and began to clean the paw prints.
“Is he bothering you, Evadne?”
For the second time that day, she startled. She had not heard Damon approach, but now that she knew he stood behind her, she sensed his presence.
“No,” she said, continuing to scrub. She kept her face angled away, her braid falling over her shoulder, to hide her tears.
He stood there a moment longer, watching her. And then he was gone, taking the old dog with him.
She worked until sundown, when it was time for her to serve the wine. And Evadne had discovered that every time she lifted the wine to her lips to taste it for poison, her desires sharpened. She felt cut by her own longings for life, for escape. To return home with Halcyon. Her desires bled as she waited to see if she would die for a man like Straton. But the wine was clean that night, as it had been all the nights before.
Evadne moved to Straton’s side, doing her best to conceal her limp, which had flared with all the crawling and crouching she had done.
His chalice was half-full when he noticed it. “What has happened to your hands, Evadne?”
She paused, feeling Cosima, Lyra, and Damon look at her raw fingers.
“It is from the lye I cleaned with today, Lord,” she replied, moving to the lady’s cup.
“You need to wear gloves, then. Toula should be able to provide a pair