"But Aldric Valente commands every soldier, every capo, every made man in the syndicate. With this blade, you cannot defeat him."

"Please don't throw your life away for nothing."

"Your master said it himself. Trading one life for the future of every protégé in the crew was worth it."

But I knew Master was lying.

One look at the wreckage strewn across the Castellano house told the whole story. The moment Aldric destroyed him, every last protégé had followed the Boss away without hesitation.

Not a single one stayed behind to bury him.

For a pack of protégés that heartless, did Master truly believe it was worth it?

Faced with my silence, Donna Vittoria's eyes grew redder still.

But she was terrified I would do something reckless, so she swallowed her own tears and forced a smile.

"Nara, you came back, didn't you? As long as you remember your master, that's enough."

Desperate to smother the hatred in my heart, she hurried into the kitchen and brought out a pot still faintly warm with steam.

"Nara, our Castellano crew is small. We don't have the power. Let's not talk about revenge."

"Look. Your master stewed this pigeon soup for you right before he died."

"He said you must have suffered on the road. You were already too thin, he said. You needed to eat properly."

I reached out and touched the dried blood crusted on the side of the pot. My face showed nothing. "Was Master making me soup when he died?"

Donna Vittoria's hands trembled. Her voice cracked further.

"Yes. He was watching the pot. He was afraid it would turn bitter if it stewed too long."

"He said you hate anything sour or bitter."

I thought to myself, that foolish old man. He died without ever realizing I'd been lying to him.

I never actually minded sour or bitter things.

I just hated taking medicine.

When Master first found me, I was badly wounded. My health never fully recovered after that, and I needed medicine constantly just to stay alive.

It drove me mad. Every now and then I'd dump the doses in secret.

When Master caught on, he bought sour jujubes to coax me, saying that if I ate one first, the medicine wouldn't taste so bitter.

I didn't want to cooperate, so I told him offhandedly that I didn't like anything sour or bitter.

Even though I could never win against Master's relentless coaxing, I still obediently took my medicine for six years. But he kept those words of mine close to his heart.