   The time for Count Alan and Lady Agnes to leave came. The Lord did not come down to bid them farewell. They left, giving Marie and me their good wishes to pass on to him, and I stood in the courtyard, watching as their lavish carriage was drawn past the castle gates. My eyes focused on it until it was but a tiny dot in the distance.
   “And things were going so well,” Marie muttered under her breath. Her voice was small—sad. I looked at her from the corner of my eyes. Her graying hair was cupped around her face, and her hands rippled with protruding veins clenched to the coat she has draped around her. The day was cold. Spring had that unpredictability to it.
   We both went back into the castle and went about our duties like we were supposed to.
   The Lord didn’t come down for lunch and dinner, and Marie had to deliver his food to him upstairs. Night came, and when it reached the hour that I would go to check up on him, I did. I knocked on his door. Once, twice, three times before letting myself in. He wasn’t there. I stepped into his chamber, standing in the middle of the bedroom as I turned around, looking from end to end. The chandelier was off, so the lamp I was holding up was the only thing keeping the room from dissolving into darkness.
   My mind tried to make sense of his absence. As I tried to shuffle through my confusion, I heard a loud sob from the west side of the building. There was heaving, and something fell. I flinched, realizing he was still in the drawing-room in the west wing.
   Should I? I asked myself, wondering if I should head to the west wing to check on him. I looked back at the door that I hadn’t closed behind me, staring out into the hallway drowned in the yellow light of the hanging oil lamps. No, I shouldn’t. I scolded myself, clenching my fist as I nibbled on my lower lip. The Lord had told me not to go there. Not even Marie could go beyond the main doors. She had to drop his tray of food at the feet of the large wooden doors that led to that section of the castle. I knew that. I had watched her do it.
   With a sigh, I went to close the door, but I remained in the Lord’s room, telling myself that he would come to his room sooner or later. As always, I dropped my lamp on the top of his drawer. Without him here to tell me where to sit it took a while for me to choose his armchair. I snuggled up in it, closing my eyes for a bit and taking in the Lord’s scent. It soothed me.
   As I clenched the armrests of the chair, feeling my knuckles pop as I looked out into the room. The books he had stacked up by his desk was in disarray, and the pile of papers that normally sat on one of his bedside tables wasn’t there. He might have taken them with him.
   I assured myself that he would be back as I listened to the sound of owls hooting fill in the void. Minutes passed. Then hours. And before I knew it, I was asleep in the Lord’s armchair.
   My eyelids didn’t flutter open until I heard birds singing outside. I was greeted with the sight of the sun rays coming from the window dancing on the carpet. A frown formed on my face, and my eyes went wide when I noticed that I had slept on the armchair all night. My gaze moved down, and I noticed that I had been draped with a blanket.
   “He was here,” I said under my breath, pulling the blanket away before getting up. I made his bed and folded the blankets. Looking around the room I noticed that he had pulled the curtains apart and had taken some books from the pile by his desk. I left his bedchamber and went about my duties hoping to see him in the common room later in the day, but he never appeared.
   Sometimes as Marie and I were working we would hear a piano wailing, and other times the sound of something being moved or falling would reverberate through the castle. Marie would take drinks up with her, and I would just watch, asking for an update whenever she got back.
   Trying to take my mind off things, I went outside for a bit to walk Bessa around the castle’s courtyard with a lease. It was cold, and it snowed a bit for an hour or so. It was as if the weather was adjusting for the Lord’s mood. The spring spinning a chill wind and thin frost over the castle as the sound of a piano rang through the castle walls.
   I was disappointed to find out that he was still in the drawing-room when I came into the castle through the back door that led to the kitchen. I had brought fresh laundry with me but had been distracted by the sound of loud banging.
   “What on earth is he doing in that room?” I asked, looking up at the kitchen ceiling when the sound of something falling rang through the walls.
   Marie sighed from the kitchen slab. “I wish I knew,” she said, making me look over at her. She was hard at work, making bread dough. “I wish I knew Manfred,” she said again, looking away from me before licking her lips. I didn’t miss the underlying worry in her tone. There was also an agitation to her overall composer for the past day and a half. From how she was behaving it was clear something like this had happened before. Why would the Lord lock himself away in a drawing room for hours on end?
   “Marie.” My voice came out as a small whisper. She looked up at me. “Is there something I should know?” I asked, watching as her eyes glossed over with sadness as her lips pulled into a thin line. My heart was thumping. I had promised myself that I would wait for the Lord to share things with me, but curiosity was biting me—leaking impatient poison in my veins.
   I needed to know.
“There was someone Evenus loved very much.” Marie started, giving me a sad smile before looking away from me. She sighed, kneading the dough in front of her. “He hasn’t gotten over losing them.”
   There were questions at the tip of my tongue. I wanted to ask what type of loss. Was the person still alive and had just broken things off with him? I was sure things like that happened all the time between men when one person had to get married. Or, had this person died?
   Marie didn’t explain any of that to me, she just kept going. “He’ll come out.” She paused. “eventually.”
   “What’s the longest he’s locked himself up like this?” I asked.
   “Two months,” she said in a clipped tone.
   “Two months?” I repeated Marie’s words as my face drained of color. “Two months? Something bad must have happened then.”
   “It’s not my place to say.” Marie stopped there, saying nothing more to me.
   A lump formed in my throat at her dismissal of me. I knew it wasn’t my place to poke around and she’d already told me too much, but it still hurt a bit. Lord Evenus was in pain. I heard it when I stood at the stairs and debated if I should head to the west wing. He cried sometimes, and sometimes he would spit curses out in succession. My patience was waning, and I was desperate to help.
   “Okay,” I said, my voice shaking with emotion as I picked up the bucket of fresh laundry in front of me. The dissatisfaction in my voice had been evident, but I didn’t wait for Marie to turn and make eye contact with me before heading out the kitchen door.
   I wondered if the person—Sawyer—had anything to do with Lord Evenus’ present mood as I walked through the hallway. I climbed the stairs and made my way to the Lord’s chamber. I needed to drop off his clean laundry. I did my routine of knocking thrice before letting myself in. Lord Evenus was still not in his room, but I noticed that a coat and a pair of slippers were missing. I frowned as I folded and put hid laundry away, getting annoyed with him for wandering his own castle like a ghost.
   I left his room, wandering about the castle until night came again. The Lord still hadn’t shown himself, and I was getting tense with worry and frustration. I started to wonder if I maybe had something to do with it. What if he was avoiding me specifically? It would make sense. He had disappeared just after we touched each other that night. I had tried not to make that connection before, but once I let it linger in my mind it made me run made with panic.
   What would happen if the Lord finally stepped out?
   Would he tell me he wanted nothing to do with me?
   The thoughts running through my mind scared me more than I would wish to admit. When I had first come to the Barcombe castle I had just wanted to watch him from afar and serve him, but now I was too invested in his life—too greedy for a concrete place in it. Why had the Lord approached me if there was someone he still loved? Someone who made him hurt so much.
   There was a part of me that believed that what I had told him about Alistair had warranted this reaction. Maybe something similar happened to him and his lover? I didn’t even know if this Sawyer person was dead or alive.
   My eyes stung from the tears welling up in my ducts as all the pieces and clues of his past played in my mind.
   I still couldn’t figure it out.
   With a sigh I curled up on my bed, pulling the covers over myself as I looked out the window. I sucked on my teeth. As much as it made my heart pang, it seemed that I would have to wait for the Lord to show himself to me, and then I would get him to explain.Â
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