Viktor's bare feet crunched against the gravel path as he led Gareth deeper into the manor grounds. The garden stretched out before them—wild, overgrown, but with patches of newly cleared earth where Viktor had been working.
Gareth followed a few steps behind, his mind spinning.
Something was off.
He rubbed his eyes, blinking hard, as if trying to clear his vision. His gaze kept drifting to Viktor's back, his shoulders, the way his clothes hung on his frame.
'Wait.'
Gareth's eyes narrowed.
'Is this fat bastard... thinner?'
He'd last seen Viktor just three or four days ago. Back then, the young master had been a bloated mess—soft, weak, pathetic. But now, as Viktor moved with purpose through the garden, Gareth could see the difference.
The young man's movements were sharper. His frame leaner. There was muscle definition beneath his shirt where there had been nothing but flab before.
'What the hell?'
