Laurel arrived at her work just as master Brown was handing out instructions. He was an older rabbit, but that didn’t mean he was weak. He had worked for the commandment for a long time, until he decided to retire. He was given his reward for serving Morbin and the commandment by living in a large house with servants to do his bidding, plenty of money, and the power to even throw a rabbut in prison... or worse. However, just because he was retired, that didn’t mean he was done with working for the administration. He often had lieutenants come and go, some with questions, others sharing news. Thankfully, Dylan was no where in sight.      Master Brown stared at Laurel as she lined up, keeping her eyes lowered. “Sir, where would you like me to work?” She asked quietly, trying to keep her cool. The back of his hand slapped her across her jaw. “Don’t you know to speak up, rat? Where are your manners?” He hissed. Laurel tried to keep the tears from spilling down her face. If Master Brown saw her crying, she would be done for. “Beg pardon, sir,” she expressed louder, but still keeping her head down. He shoved a list into her hands and balked away, shouting over his shoulder, “all of it must be done before dusk, you hear me? Or else!” He threatened.      Once he was out of sight, Laurel wiped her eyes and looked around. All the other servants were scurrying about with their new tasks and paid no attention to her. Well, except Helen. The brown doe had a broom in her hand and made a quick flicking motion with the handle. When Laurel met her eyes, she realized she was motioning her to follow. Making it look like she was going to find something, Laurel headed towards the servants hall where most of their cleaning supplies were situated. Glancing at her list, she knew she would need a bucket and a rag. But this would also help her find out what was new.      Helen entered the closet first, and waiting for a few seconds, Laurel followed. Inside, Helen bit her lip and hugged Laurel. “I thought he would kill you yesterday,” she whispered. Laurel smiled ruefully, though her headache had begun its painful return. “Nah, he can’t kill me yet… I’m supposed to break us out of here, remember?” The playful joke fell on dead ears. Helen looked her friend in the eye, her expression dead serious. “That lieutenant has been asking around about you today.” Laurel had never told Helen about Dylan always seeking her out. But this news startled her.      “Lieutenant Dylan Walter’s?” She asked. Helen nodded. “Yesterday he gambled his pay away with Brown in order to give you the day off. But now that you’re here, it wont go over well with him.” Laurel glared at her. “He came this morning and has been asking the other servants if they’d heard anything about you. He sure looked shaken up.” Helen explained, though she had no idea about what this could mean. Laurel grabbed a bucket and a rag and hugged her friend again.      “Thanks for updating me. Be careful.” Helen whispered “you too" as Laurel hurried out of the closet and to her first task.        Laurel scrubbed at the stone floor in the courtyard for at least two hours, her back, neck, and shoulders protesting to continue. Her fur was damp with sweat and she felt lightheaded. But she had to keep going. It was her choice to come and work when she didn’t have to; she couldn’t stop. She plunged the rag into the dirty water bucket and slopped the liquid all over the ground. She didn’t understand why master Brown requested for the courtyard to be washed down by hand when they had mops and brooms. But, she remembered with a scowl, that they were servants; he could make their lives as miserable as he wanted.      She didn’t hear the approaching footsteps until a shadow fell over the ground in front of her. Laurel looked up and nearly passed out. Lieutenant Dylan. His silver fur gleamed in the morning sunlight and his uniform looked perfect, as always. She didn’t realize she was staring until she tried to see his face, but the sun that was just behind his head hindered that. She quickly lowered her head and worked faster, hoping he would go away.      “Master Brown is inside, sir,” she said quietly, wishing that he was here to speak to the old captain. He didn’t move or say anything. Instead, he knelt in front of her and gently placed his fingers under her chin, tilting her head up to face him. Laurel could see his face now. His mouth was pressed in a thin line and his eyes examined every wound that he could see. When he spoke, his voice was low and angry.      “I told him you would have the day off,” he growled. Laurel stiffened. “And I needed to work to support my family.” She spat. Dylan finally made eye contact with her. Those blue eyes were so different from those of the other leaders. While theirs were cold and malicious, Dylan’s were gentle and warm. That’s what scared her. Was he really different? Or was it just a mask that he wore, and he was waiting for the opportune moment to remove it and wreak havoc on their lives?      Dylan moved his hand and rested his arm on his knee, still watching her. “Laurel, he nearly killed you yesterday. You need to rest.” Laurel glared at him. If she looked at any other lieutenant in this way, she’d be sent off to Vit the Skinner in a heartbeat. “Yes, and my mom nearly killed my heart.” She hissed as she lowered her head and began to scrub all the harder. Dylan grabbed the rag from her and firmly grasped her hands in his, his grip hard and deliberate. Laurel winced as he put pressure on her hands. Dylan glared at her and gently let go.      “You’re no use to anyone if you work yourself to death.” He said in a whisper, his tough lieutenant persona melting away. Laurel leveled her gaze at his. “But that is the fate for everyone, isn’t it?” She challenged in a low, clipped tone. Dylan stared at her. He didn’t respond for a few minutes. When he did, he sounded amused. “You’re nothing like your parents,” he pointed out, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. Laurel wanted to smile, but she couldn’t; she had to keep her guard up. She still didn’t know why he kept trying to talk to her anyways.      “No, I’m not; and it’s not a good thing,” she answered, her cold tone finally easing up. Laurel grimaced as she thought of what she had to say, even if she didn’t want to. “I’m sorry I wasted your pay; I’m sure master Brown will taunt you about it.” Dylan sighed. “Don’t worry about it; I’ll survive till the next payday. You, however,” he added, his voice dropping low. Laurel tried to keep her composure. Here he was, another personality; what was a mask, and what was the real Dylan?      “You need to be careful. I need to talk to you about something, but now is not the time or place. Its important.” Laurel raised an eyebrow. “And I can trust you…?” She let the sentence hang for a few tense seconds. Dylan didn’t even flinch. His blue eyes bore into hers. “You can trust me… because your father swore he would have hitmen after me if I so much as deny or hurt his daughter and his last wishes. Now, if you’d like to find out what your father promised me to do, I suggest you get your work done fast and meet me at the sixth district wall. Tonight.” His gaze hardened as he stood. He turned to walk away, leaving Laurel in shock, but said over his shoulder, “be careful, Laurel.”