Winfred

32

Official Report

British Intelligence

Code: 3986

Kathleen Winfred

The next night, I was awakened by voices. They were too low for me to make out the identity of the speakers, but I knew that one of them must be Albert, on guard duty that night. 

I remained on my cot, cradling Schubert, trying to go back to sleep. 

Moments later, however, Schubert sat bolt upright, waiting for a few moments before leaping down and squeezing through the bars just as Von Steubon began to come down the hallway.

I do not think that he knew I was awake, so I watched for a moment, as he bent to pet Schubert on the head, smiling slightly at the dog and muttering quietly in German. 

I remained, propping myself up on my elbows, and watched Schubert's happiness at having his master back. Von Steubon, however, seemed tired, or upset about something.

At that moment, Von Steubon looked up, noticing me awake. 

I lowered my head, ashamed to be caught in my staring. 

After a few seconds of silence, I heard slow footsteps making their way towards me, then come to a stop.

I hesitated before looking up at Von Steubon. He was keeping his head lowered, and in the shadow of the hallway, I could not see his face. I wondered if he was angry at me.

"Thank you," he said, finally, after what seemed forever. "For taking care of Schubert."

"I...I didn't...I mean...Pirot made sure he had food..."

"Still, he seems fond of you. I appreciate your care of him." He looked down at Schubert, for a moment, before speaking once more, curtly. "I apologize for waking you. Go back to sleep."

I nodded.

He turned to leave, his face finally catching the light. I was surprised to see a rather ugly wound marring his face, as if someone had hit him on the cheek, leaving behind a painful-looking gash.

He seemed to recognize that I was staring again, as he turned around, frowning slightly, his face in shadow once more.

I said nothing to explain myself, simply brought my own hand to my own cheek, in a gesture of question. Had he received this wound for what he had done for us? Was his long absence one of punishment?

His frown deepened. "Es ist nichts," he said, hurriedly, forgetting to speak English, his voice tense.

It is nothing.

With that, he turned, abruptly, and left, snapping his fingers once in a command for Schubert to follow. Unnecessary, really, since the little dachshund was already on his master's heels.

***

image: the character Germany from the anime Hetalia: reminds me somewhat of Von Steubon.