When we returned from the capital, Gache was still healthy and whole. Master Halvatt had no knowledge of our conversation from the day before the exhibition, saving me from a solemn confrontation. You were happy, and spent your first days back home in a state of unbridled joy.
The only unfortunate situation to visit us was that Gache was forced to stay in town for an extended period of time, possibly several more months, due to unforeseen circumstances. When I first heard the news, I bit my lip, feeling that this would be pushing our good fortune. It was a miracle that Gache had stayed unharmed for this long; and since you were insistent on visiting him regardless of whether fate was on your side, I feared for the worst. If your feelings were allowed to grow, there could only be one outcome waiting at the end.
And so, I waited with bated breath for the day of reckoning. But it never came.
Days became weeks, weeks became months, and I watched on with surprise each time I escorted you to Gache's lodgings, that the man had not died of dismemberment, an odd illness, or simply disappeared, like all the others. Perhaps it was his snarky, confident nature that saved him from death. He was certainly the type of man to believe he was king of the world, unable to be touched by anything so small as mortality. Perhaps such a philosophy was enough to save him from certain doom.
During this time, you grew from a shy bud into a fully blossomed flower. You lavished Gache with gifts and visited him on a daily basis, growing so bold as to even kiss him in front of the fountain at the center of town. And though it pained me as the one who was to ensure your safety, I allowed myself to turn a blind eye during the times you snuck out late at night, not returning until the sun had almost risen. You were utterly changed, as if the you from before was merely a prelude to what you were meant to be in the grand scheme of things. And for that, I was joyous beyond belief. It felt like a thousand blessings in itself, to have been able to bear witness to such a transformation. If the cost were merely to let you walk into town, just you and Gache alone, then I would gladly pay it all, each and every time.
As a consequence of your newfound self, I found that you relied on my presence less and less for matters you used to require assistance with. My schedule being freer than ever, I began to read more books, hoping to become as worldly as you were now, so that I might continue to be of aid in your times of need. That being said, I certainly was surprised when one day, you asked me to fetch you some books from the library. At this point, you usually went out to do such errands by yourself or with Gache. But the opportunity was a welcome one, giving me a chance to prove myself useful once again.
The journey to town was rather uneventful. Yet the minute I stepped into the square, I sensed something was amiss. There was tension in the air, and everybody seemed to be talking over each other in their own little groups about something or another.
I retrieved a selection of books for you as you requested, and on the way back to the manor, I bumped into one of the maids, Miss Risa. She was chatting with some friends of hers as she went about her daily errands when she noticed me and motioned for me to come closer.
I normally did not concern myself with gossip and drivel, but after seeing the state the other townspeople were in, I found myself curious enough to ask, amidst her shower of pleasantries and small talk. The other women looked at Risa with a confused expression when I presented my inquiry, and Risa's mouth became a thin line as she looked me in the eye and told me about the latest rumours.
As soon as the first sentence left her mouth, I immediately excused myself, nearly dropping the books I had in my arms as I ran off in the direction of the trader's guild.
On a bench outside, Gache was smoking a cigar, without a care in the world. As I approached him, I noticed the hat he was wearing was the one you gave him. He tipped it at me as I spoke to him in the calmest voice I could muster.
Before I could finish my anxious tirade, however, he cut me off with a wave of his hand. He gave a brisk apology, told me "there were no hard feelings", got up, and left, closing the door behind him.
It seemed that the rumours were indeed true, then. Feeling a heavy pit of despair in my stomach, I headed back to the manor immediately, not knowing how I would possibly explain this turn of events to someone like you. Someone like you couldn't hear things such as this.
Yet there was no need to explain what had happened.
By the time I reached the manor and headed to your quarters, you were already dead, throat cut from a blade held by your own hand.