Becca ushered her cart inside, and I followed closely. As she pushed the door shut, I froze, shocked by the chilling beauty of the vast hall. Radiant chandeliers hung from a lofty ceiling, scattering faint light across polished black tiles and pale grey walls.
The air was bitterly cold. Shivers rippled through me, and Becca trembled too. We nearly doubled over, struggling to regain our composure before venturing through an arched entryway that led into another corridor lined with doors. At the passage's end, loomed one far larger than the rest.
Lord Fashire's bed chamber.
Silence pressed in, and the temperature plunged further with every step we took. My pace slowed. Becca seemed to falter. I summoned the last vestiges of my courage and opened my mouth to speak when a deep voice interjected.
"Come in."
His voice slid through the air, smooth as silk, yet foreboding. My breath clouded in the air. The very air that carried his voice.
"Ye—Yes, my Lord," I stammered.
Becca reached for the door when it swung open of its own accord. A gust of icy wind struck me. I stood frozen, terrified the tray would slip from my hands.
'MOVE!'
My legs moved, and just like that, I took my very first step into the lair of the most fearsome predator.
The chamber was dim. Then, furniture emerged slowly as my eyes adjusted. Curtains drawn shut, dark recesses, and Becca pushing her cart into the shadows ahead of me. A faint whimper reached me, and it tugged at my chest.
Becca continued forging ahead, gradually approaching the shadowy abyss I was beginning to see through.
Wait.
Becca was ahead of me.
Too far ahead.
'Oh, lords! How long have I been standing here?'
My heart plummeted to my feet.
Lord Fashire stood right before me.
"Now, how long did you intend to dawdle here?" His growl cut into me, cold enough to numb my bones.
The air thickened, and my lungs strained as he loomed closer, silver-grey eyes pinning me in place.
My skin prickled. Madness danced in those eyes, sharp and consuming.
'Run. Run!'
My lips trembled soundlessly. But I could not move. I could not do anything.
'Move! Please…'
His gaze dropped to the tray. A predatory smile curved his lips.
"You." His voice crept out, an undercurrent of menace.
I did not know how, but deep down, I had the distinct feeling that he wasn't addressing me.
"My Lord?" Becca's voice trembled.
"Take that cart somewhere else. This one here will perform her duties," he commanded, his eyes sliding back up to meet mine.
"Yes, my Lord." Becca rushed past us. The door slammed shut, leaving me alone with him.
Panic rose in my throat.
'I can't breathe…'
"M…y…m…"
I tore my eyes from his and forced the words out, my voice barely above a whisper. "The… the food, my Lord."
"I see."
Without another word, he retreated, disappearing into the dark recesses of the room.
"Carry on, then," his words trailed to meet me.
My numb legs took hesitant steps forward.
As I slowly started to adjust to the dark, my eyes honed in on him. I stilled. Lord Fashire's frame lounged on a divan in a secluded corner, his gaze tracking my every move.
"Is there something wrong with your eyes?"
'No. No. No. Stop this!'
"I am very sorry, my Lord!" I said a little too loudly before wincing at the high pitch of my voice.
I turned quickly, forcing myself to focus on the room. I had to get this done with and away from here. I should be more worried about his discovering my true identity than being concerned about his presence!
Muffled sobs drew my attention to another corner of the chamber. My heart sank.
A boy huddled there, no older than seven. Tear-streaked face, swollen eyes, and quaking shoulders. Mucus streamed down his nose, and his quivering mouth was clamped shut. His new overalls hung loose on his small frame.
My eyes stung.
I moved towards him, but he shrank back with each step. To him, I was one of them. A monster. His eyes held no hatred. That was the worst part.
'How can he do this? This is a child!'
The air dripped with Lord Fashire's disdain. "It seems a certain mongrel isn't afraid of death."
My heart thundered as his chilling words echoed within the chamber. I jolted back to my senses and lowered the tray onto the low table beside the trembling boy.
'Get to work. Get to work!'
Placing the heavy tray down brought a mix of agony and relief to my aching arms, even though they still shook as I lifted the metal lid to reveal four steaming dishes. Their aroma drifted upward, but my dry mouth remained stubbornly shut. I gripped the tray tightly, preparing to lower it even further to the boy's level, hoping that—no matter how scared he was—he would choose the dish that appealed to him most.
It was the utmost kindness I could bear to offer.
"I do not like repeating myself, servant. Put that tray back. Give the boy a plate," his voice cut through the darkness.
"Yes, my Lord," my voice rasped, and I hurried to obey. I chose the plate of whole chicken, still warm, and set the plate on the floor before the boy. He recoiled, whimpering.
"Eat," Lord Fashire's command cracked like a whip.
Both the boy and I flinched. And for a sudden moment, the driving force of his tone almost compelled me to eat too.
The boy lunged at the dish and tore into the chicken with feral hunger. Grease streaked his face, and his tiny hands trembled as he devoured each mouthful of the soft meat. I clasped my hands together, stomach twisting as I watched the boy eat.
'This is wrong. So wrong.'
I couldn't just stand there and do nothing, but I couldn't get myself killed, either. What did Lord Fashire want with a child? I had never witnessed or heard about him bringing in children before, nor did any of the vampires in this castle keep children as pets. They couldn't provide the sustenance or amount of blood vampires needed. So why was he here?
The thought burned within my chest. I swallowed it down. There was nothing I could do to change the situation. Nothing.
I served him another plate, and he emptied it too. When I reached for the third, his eyes lifted briefly to mine. Empty.
'No. Please.'
I looked away. My stomach rolled.
'Clean up. Just clean up and leave.'
The minutes passed in a blur, my body operating as my mind shut down. I had served him another plate and cleaned up the area.
All without looking at the boy.
Once I was done, I excused myself from Lord Fashire's chambers with a small bow, eager to escape the oppressive atmosphere.
His silence pressed heavier than words. As I walked out of the chamber, his silver-grey eyes never left me. The doors closed behind me, and a sudden burst of energy surged through my veins.
I ran. Sprinting past the silent hallways, through the expansive hall, and out of Lord Fashire's wing.
The doors shut behind me with a finality that made my knees give way. I collapsed to the floor, clutching the covered tray. My chest heaved as I gulped in mouthfuls of warm air.
A shadow fell over me.
"Becca?" I whispered, straining my neck to look up at her.
I sighed and straightened my back, still cradling the tray as I looked back at it. "I only have one plate left, but I can still—"
"Hiln…" Becca's voice trembled.
I paused, then looked at her.
She fidgeted with her fingers, her face twisted with worry. "I was so scared, Hiln. What took you so long?"
I blinked a few times. I placed the tray on the floor, still seated. "I don't understand. What do you—"
Becca shook her head. "I have been waiting… for a long time now. I—I thought…" She sighed. Her eyes darted toward her cart behind her before returning to me. "I was even starting to think something might have… happened."
I shook my head. "I am confused. What—"
A sudden realisation made the rest of my words die in my throat.
Her cart. Nearly all the plates were empty, and previously folded towels were now arranged at the bottom row of the cart. I slowly stood up, staring at the cart.
How long was I in his chambers?
"I… I…" I breathed, slowly facing Becca. "I could have sworn I wasn't there for that long…"
Or was I?
'Even if you wasted time there, it surely couldn't have been so long for Becca to have finished serving all the other pets.'
"No… that's impossible," I murmured, touching my wrist.
I was certain I hadn't wasted that much time standing idly by. He was already irritated enough. And the boy had eaten quickly.
"You know…" I touched Becca's arm, whispering more to myself than to her. "Let's not think too much of it. I'm just… glad this is over."
Becca nodded quickly, almost too quickly. She tucked one of her blonde curls behind her ear and lifted my tray from the floor.
"Thank you," I murmured as she went to add it to her cart.
Becca looked at me and offered a faint smile.
Together, we left the Lords' wings. But no matter how much I tried to push my worries aside, I had a strange foreboding that just wouldn't leave me.
Just how long had I spent in Lord Fashire's chamber?