Xx I ate breakfast alone. Ronan must have left for Moscow before I even woke, and the lack of his presence intensified an uneasy feeling in my chest. Had I given him exactly what he wanted, so he now had no reservations about handing me over in return for my papa? I chewed my lip and walked through the house in a daze, trying to find something to do—anything to distract my mind from its horrid musings. I stopped short at the sight of the quiet serving girl in the laundry room. “Oh, yov’re back.” With a wild flare of uncertainty in her eyes, she dropped her head and focused on the laundry she was folding, her movements nervous. I noted she looked better than I’d ever seen her. She was usually so pale, so fragile, but today, a healthy glow warmed her skin. Days ago, Ronan told me her disappearance was “none of my business,” and I suddenly knew he was responsible for her change in appearance. Having nothing better to do, I moved closer, picked up a towel, and began folding it. She tensed, keeping her gaze lowered, but when her shaking hand lifted to her cheek, I realized she was wiping away a tear. The air really needed to be cleared. “I know you poisoned me,” I said simply and grabbed another towel. She dropped one of Ronan’s undershirts, her terror-filled eyes shooting to me. I didn’t know what compelled her to serve me a cup of cyanide, but I did have the gut instinct it was one of those gray moments in life that couldn’t be categorized. “I forgive you, you know? But please don’t do it again. It really sucked.” I didn’t know how much English she understood, though I believed she got the gist by the feel of her incredulous gaze on me for a long moment while I worked my way through the bath towels. “T am sorry,” she finally said softly, tears running down her cheeks. “I promise, I vill not do again.”