Tiger's meowing woke me from my slumber, and I automatically reached out to reassure her with a stroke that breakfast was on its way. Confusion followed when my hand felt nothing, causing me to force my eyes open and turn my head to the source of the sound.

Baffled by the sight before me, I raised an eyebrow as I watched Tiger trampling over Tobi's neck, pawing his cheek. I was about to scold her when the slender man on the other side of my bed released the most beautiful giggle I'd ever heard, causing my heart to flutter as I watched their interaction.

"Morning," I smiled at Tobi as he attempted to stroke Tiger while simultaneously trying to stop her sitting on his face.

Unable to do anything but splutter, he rolled his head to face mine before responding.

"Is she always like this?" he chuckled, as he shielded himself from an oncoming paw.

"Yeah, pretty much," I confirmed jovially, sitting upright as the tabby meowed again. "She's just hungry, and it looks like I'm no longer the favourite around here. Do you want to feed her today?"

Nodding enthusiastically, the blond man managed to get himself into a sitting position.

Concluding that her mission had been successful, Tiger trotted to the end of the bed and leapt off to go downstairs, leaving Tobi and I smiling at each other.

Waking up like this was nice, I realised. It had only been a couple of days since Tobi had awakened from the drug in his system, but I already didn't mind at all if we continued sharing my bed in this manner.

But this wasn't just about what I wanted, and I had no idea how Tobi would feel about it being like this for a longer period than I'd initially alluded to.

"We should probably decide what to do about the sleeping arrangements," I ventured.

"Oh," Tobi replied in a neutral tone, his smile fading slightly. "All right."

"I mean, I have no problem with them staying as they are," I admitted. "I just thought you might be more comfortable if we got you something separate?"

Tobi shook his head in response, blue eyes still trained on me.

"This is fine with me," he said, smiling again and looking a little bit relieved. "When I was at the Kinnisvara, the Katki slept in communal spaces, with the children separated from the adults. So, I'm used to sleeping in the same room as others. And actually, it would feel strange not to."

I relaxed a little, glad that this seemed to be working for him too. Swinging his legs off the side of the bed, the platinum blond disappeared to feed the hungry cat as I disappeared into the shower.

As I was rinsing the suds from my hair, I considered how my original goal for the week may need revising. The aim had been either to tame the beast that emerged from the Ravim cocoon, or to put him back on the drug if that turned out to be unachievable.

But it now that objective was no longer valid since there hadn't been a beast to tame. Instead, when the shell cracked, I discovered a timid, caring man who, apparently, I already trusted enough to be downstairs feeding my cat.

Grabbing a fluffy towel as I stepped out of the shower, I decided that my new objective for the week would be largely observational. After the success of our games yesterday, gathering information about him in different situations seemed like the most sensible next course of action. Perhaps his behaviour would give me a clue to what exactly I was dealing with. After all, I wouldn't be able to find a cure for the Katki if I didn't fully understand the problem.

I also pondered whether it was too soon to start bringing the knives and ornaments back in from the shed. But by the time Tobi had showered and we'd both eaten breakfast, I'd concluded that it was likely to be fine.

It occurred to me that this would be a good opportunity to tell him why the knives and ornaments had been removed in the first place. Previously, I'd withheld the information in case it changed his behaviour, but since it seemed we were both in the dark about what the Katki template represented, it now made more sense to share as much knowledge as possible with each other.

As I suspected, Tobi hadn't known that civilians were told that the Katki were inherently violent, and although he was surprised when I told him, he took it well, all things considered. Certainly, he understood why I would take precautions like removing potential hazards from my living space with the beliefs that had been passed on to me.

And so, with Tobi's assistance, the bulk of the morning was spent putting my lounge back to the way it had been before, including unpacking the kitchen knives so that they were readily available for food preparation again.

It was hungry work, and by the time midday came around, we were both ravenous. Rummaging through the fridge, I found some cold meat, salad leaves, tomato and cucumber, and brought them to the table. Tobi sliced up some fresh crusty bread and we made ourselves some sandwiches for lunch.

Shortly after we'd eaten, we found post had delivered, and Tobi asked if he could have the largest envelope when he saw I was about to discard it. After also borrowing a pencil, he sat in the armchair, and, leaning on one of the larger books, started to use the implement on the back of the envelope.

I was about to ask what he was doing when the screen used by the Andekas for communications lit up, and the face of a blond lady in her mid-twenties appeared. The caption beneath told me her name was Patience McKay. The accompanying caption told the public that she was wanted for questioning by our ruling family, and I wondered what she might have done to incur their wrath.

I sighed inwardly. I knew the most probable explanation was that she was the mother of a newborn Katki who didn't want her child taken away, and so presumably she fled with her baby. It happened sometimes. I knew the maternal instinct could be very powerful.

But this time I found myself viewing the situation in a different light. The Andekas were recalling her as a danger to society, but what if the child was destined to turn out like Tobi? From everything I'd learned from my investigations so far, she may have been justified in her doubts about the Katki system. A pang of guilt shot through me. Given the timing of the broadcast, it could have been me that carried out the blood test for her baby and therefore created this situation for her.

However, with things as they currently were, there wasn't much I could do yet. The only way I could fix anything was to keep investigating and keep working on how this subclass of people could be integrated into society. And for that, I needed information.

My attention turned back to the platinum blond, who was too immersed on whatever he was doing to have noticed the screen.

"Are you happy for me to ask you a couple of things, or do you need me to be quiet so you can focus?" I asked him.

Tobi looked up and smiled at me, with contentment in his crystal blue eyes.

"You can ask me things, it's fine," he confirmed, as he returned his focus to the envelope and continued his doodles.

"How old are the Katki when the Andekas first give you the Ravim?" I asked. "Do you know?"

I'd always assumed the children were given the Ravim as well as the adults. But given that Tobi had already told me that the adults didn't receive the treatment unless they were being taken to the Mart, and I'd never seen children at the Mart, it now seemed like a reasonable question.

"I don't know," he confessed sadly, shaking his head as the pencil continued working on the paper.

"I guess ... I'm asking whether the Katki receive the treatment when they're children?" I clarified.

"Oh, I see," he responded without looking up at me. "No, the children don't get any. It's only for the adults and only when we're going to the Mart. That's also when we get these," he added, indicating his neck.

"The numbers are given to you when you first go to the Mart?" I clarified and Tobi nodded. Interesting. Again, I'd always assumed the numbers were tattooed on them as children. "Can you tell me about being a Katki child?" I probed further, hoping for a little more insight. "What's it like being brought up on the Kinnisvara?"

Pausing for a minute, Tobi looked like he was gathering his thoughts before the pencil in his hand landed on the paper again.

"Well, we have these numbers all our lives, but the children wear them on a bracelet until they're old enough to go to the Mart," he explained, evidently realising how little I knew about their identification system. "From a young age we're taught how to read and write, usually by one of the older Katki. We usually join them as soon as we can, to learn whatever skills they have and take on basic tasks. The children do a little bit of everything, but gardening was always my favourite. Even in the rain, I liked being outdoors."

Seren had never mentioned that there were children doing domestic chores when she'd returned from either of her trips.

"I understand that people like me sometimes visit the Kinnisvara for a few weeks at a time, from the surrounding towns and villages," I ventured. "Did you ever see anyone like that when you were a child?"

The blond man shook his head.

"Children are told to stay away from the visitors," he replied nonchalantly.

Given everything else I'd learned so far, it shouldn't really have surprised me that the Andekas kept the children away from those who were there trying to conceive, so I decided to try a different direction.

"What are the Andekas family like?" I tried.

"We're not allowed near them unless we've had Ravim," he said as he tilted his head sideways to look at the envelope before the pencil hit it again.

The logic behind this seemed rational. Even though it seemed the Andekas knew that the Katki weren't violent, they still probably wanted to ensure that encountering people that were being held against their will was safe for members of the revered family.

"I guess it makes sense that you've never approached any of them without Ravim," I conceded reluctantly. "So, even if you had been close to any of them, I guess you wouldn't remember."

"Well, we're not supposed to be near them," he answered thoughtfully, as thought he was remembering something. "But one of them used to come quite close to us sometimes. Usually when I was gardening with Doug." Tobi paused and smiled. "Doug was one of the older Katki who did a lot of outdoor work. We called him Doug because he was so muscular from all the digging that he did in the gardens."

How strange. What possible reason could one of the Andekas family have for approaching a gardener?

"Any idea why one of them came so close to you?" I asked.

Tobi continued to focus on his task as he considered his response.

"No," he replied after some deliberation, shaking his head slightly. "He never spoke. Just watched us working. But I knew he was one of them because he wore the mark of the Andekas and always had two guards with him."

"And none of the other Andekas family did the same?" I probed further to ensure I'd understood correctly. "Just this one?"

"Yep," Tobi confirmed. "Only ever that one man. What do you think?" he suddenly added, smiling and holding up the envelope to reveal a pencil sketch.

There was absolutely no doubt that the subject of the artwork was Tiger. Not just because of the distinct markings that Tobi had managed to capture in remarkable detail, but because somehow, he'd managed to also capture the essence of her personality too.

I stood up, stepped forward and reached out to take the envelope for a closer look, and the blond man happily obliged by handing it to me. Running my eyes over it, I could see that everything from the proportions to the shading was incredible.

"This is really good," I said, although even as the words tumbled out, I knew it was an understatement. "You learned this from one of the older Katki?"

"Not officially," he clarified. "What I mean is, it wasn't one of my assignments. I liked drawing anyway, and after we'd finished our daily training, one of the older Katki women would help me with getting better at it."

"I need to make sure you have access to paper and pencils then," I smiled. "You have a real talent, and I'd love to see more of it. Mind if I keep this?"

Tobi looked pleasantly surprised.

"No, not at all," he beamed, apparently pleased that I wanted the picture.

Making a mental note to ensure that I stocked up on art supplies the next time I was able, I put the envelope on the bookshelf so that I could keep it safe.

As I made my way back to the kitchen to tidy up, I couldn't help but ponder why a member of the prestigious Andekas family would make the effort to watch a Katki doing something as mundane as gardening.