SIGRID

Obviously, and I don’t blame her—if you’re swallowed in darkness where no light reaches, and all you can see is a golden eye staring at you like a snake waiting to devour you.

“I…” she steps back in terror.

“Better stand in the other corner,” I order with a sigh, avoiding a tragedy.

Silas suddenly steps out from the corner where he had stationed himself.

He goes to the table and starts finely carving the meat the way I like it, serving the things I prefer onto my plate, trimming off the fatty bits of ham I don’t like, and pouring a bit of wine into my glass.

All done with skill and speed—I sit there, stunned, realizing he’s memorized all my preferences.

Must be part of his training to be the perfect slave.

“My lady, I’ll turn up the heat. You should take off that heavy cloak—it’ll be uncomfortable to eat in. Shall I bring you a lighter one?” he asks, playing it casual.

But his hands are already moving to lower the fluffy cloak, to reveal the top of my body.

The burgundy dress I