I peer through the hedges, searching for any sight of guards. “It most certainly cannot.”

“So, how are we getting in?” Ana asks. “Doesn’t the magistrate have guards?”

I pat the satchel I brought with me for precisely this purpose. “I have a secret weapon.” Putting two fingers into my mouth, I let out a whistle.

It takes no more than a few seconds before I hear them approach. Steps trotting toward us, breath heavy.

“Ozzy,” I say softly. Too softly for human ears.

“Who?”

I shush Ana just as a massive shepherd with jaws big enough to snap a grown man’s femur in half comes into view. From my satchel, I extract said secret weapon and unwrap the paper that envelops it. Once the scent hits the air, the hound takes a generous snuff.

“Come here, boy.”

Ana tenses beside me, her arm twitching toward her sword, but I still her hand with my own on her elbow.

The dog trots up to us, tongue lolling. I toss the seared meat to the ground.

“It’s fine.” I crouch as the dog approaches, his large paws indenting the flower beds. “Ozzy knows me.”

Ana looks at me skeptically. “Ozzy?”

The dog sniffs my hand once before flopping onto his back and exposing his belly. Smiling, I scratch his belly. The charm of dogs is irresistible. His back leg twitches happily. “He used to accompany the magistrate when he came by Father’s house. You would have befriended him, too, if you hadn’t been so busy hiding every time Father had guests over.”

Ana shifts a little uncomfortably where she stands, scratching at her hip the way she does whenever she’s feeling a bit out of place. “Well, it’s not like any of those high-society friends ever wanted to make my acquaintance.”

It’s true. She was more often than not met with curious glances at best and thinly veiled derision at worst. When Father’s business contacts were at the villa, Ana would disappear into the orchard or go into town from sunup until sundown. She was rather a champion at making herself scarce when she wanted to be.

I give the dog’s belly a good and thorough scratch. “Well, Ozzy and I took a liking to each other quickly, but that might be because I bribed him with my table scraps. His full and proper name is Ozymandias.”

“God bless you.”

I roll my eyes. “It was what the Greeks of antiquity called Ramses II. He was a pharaoh, one of Egypt’s most noteworthy.”

“I know who Ramses is,” Ana grumbles.

“Terribly sorry. I didn’t mean to condescend.”

“And yet, you manage to condescend so often.”

“It’s part of my charm.” I stand.

Ozzy whines as if to say, How dare you stop rubbing my belly and also I love you and also please never stop rubbing my belly.

But alas, I must.