Rose couldn’t carry on this way forever; she was a clever girl. He just had to talk to her calmly sensibly and she would see reason. He would be sorry to see her go, but he would remember her for the rest of his life and he would know that he gave her a real chance at happiness. He barely used this room, and as he entered he was startled by its transformation. Rose had cleaned his house slowly and methodically, so while he had noticed and appreciated the change, he had also had time to become used to it as it happened. It was only in looking at a room that remembered as dusty and derelict that he realised just how much she had accomplished.The room had a grandeur that reminded him forcibly of his early life as a minor prince. Tall windows with heavy velvet curtains looked out onto his garden where winter snow glistened on the leaves and branches, and opulent seating was scattered tastefully around the fireplace, a low, healthy blaze radiating a fierce, steady heat. Among the seats. The soldier with his hands free hefted his musket and shot the dog. It somersaulted and kicked a few times, making a bloody pool in the dirt, its head at an odd angle. Forest jumped to his feet, fist clenched at his side."What the hell was that?" the sergeant yelled from the back door before he saw the dog's body. "Lookit wha' I found," he cried, stepping out of the house with my rifle in his hands. "I think you's the one they was lookin' for, rebel, ain't ya?" He kicked at me, and I grabbed his foot and yanked. The back of his head hit the porch with a satisfying crack before he bounced in the dirt and dropped my rifle. I booted him in the side as Forest yelled something and dashed past me, straight at the soldier who had killed his dog and was busy reloading his weapon. I stomped on the sergeant's chest with my heel and then kicked him in the ballocks before I picked up my gun, cocked it, checked the pan and turned to see how Booker Forest was doing.He had smashed into the soldier,.
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