Boreas had been moved to Otto and Minerva's residence the morning after Victor's first visit.
Dean had objected until Boreas growled at Arion twice during breakfast.
Not aggressively enough to attack, but enough that the dog remained tense whenever Arion released more than the faintest trace of vetiver. Keeping him in their residence while repeatedly exposing him to something he clearly perceived as dangerous had stopped being useful and started becoming cruel.
Minerva had taken him without complaint.
Boreas knew the emperor's palace almost as well as their own and had happily followed her into the gardens after one last suspicious glance at Arion.
Three days later, Victor still had no explanation.
Dean stood inside the isolated testing room beneath the private medical wing, arms folded over a loose black sweater while yet another set of results filled the screens along the wall.
Everything was normal.
Again.
