Ksenia followed Goth, trailing behind that bizarre, oversized gown as they ascended to the third floor. It was much quieter here—and much colder.
"This was the ancestral home of the Williams family, until the last of their bloodline took their final breath here. Do you know why Henry refuses to talk about it?" Goth paused, turning back. Her eyes flickered behind her mask. "You don't. Because you aren't close. You don't really care about him, do you?"
Ksenia felt a lump in her throat, but before she could retort, Goth pressed on.
"The last generation of Williams had only one daughter. Legend says she tried to escape a forced marriage to an American. She used the curtains to climb out in the dead of night to elope with her lover, but she slipped. That was the end of her. Now, her soul is trapped here. And the man who was supposed to run away with her? He was Henry's great-great-great-grandfather. He didn't believe me when I first told him, but he went home and asked his family. Haha... it was exactly as I said."
"Her soul is trapped here?" Ksenia was skeptical. She had always been a firm materialist.
"Do you believe it?"
"Not really."
Goth turned fully to face her. "But people love a tragic story. If you told them it wasn't true, they'd probably bite your head off. Ksenia, Henry might hate this ghost story, but he is obsessed with another story you don't believe in—his faith. If you two are really going to be together, you'll have to be just like him. You'll have to believe."
Ksenia was getting dizzy from the wordplay. "I think I see your point, but Henry and I are just dating. I'm not at the stage where I have to martyriz myself for his beliefs."
Goth gave a satisfied smile. "The men of the Courtney family are usually too afraid to even come near this castle. Only Henry shows up every year with his 'Book of Answers' to a party he despises. It's as if he's trying to prove the story is fake—but the more he tries to disprove it, the more it shows he's haunted by it. I think the ghosts here cursed him. Cursed him to love someone who doesn't love him back."
Goth was a master at poking wounds. She was an uncomfortable presence.
"I'm a bit tired. I'm going back down."
"Go on then, child. Watch out for Dracula."
Goth's words and the castle's legends felt like tiny hairs growing over Ksenia's heart—uncomfortable, impossible to ignore. She found herself stopping before a portrait.
The girl in the painting was pale, her half-open eyes gazing softly at the cat on her lap. Her slender fingers were buried in the cat's thick, fluffy fur.
Is it her? Miss Williams?
Ksenia's vivid imagination began to reconstruct the tragedy. Suddenly, a powerful hand clamped around her wrist. Her heart, already racing with dread, seemed to freeze solid.
The man dressed as "Dracula" drew closer. Ksenia went rigid. Between the heavy, grotesque makeup and the mask covering the upper half of his face, she couldn't see his real features—but his towering 6'2" frame was very real.
She couldn't move. She was pulled passively toward the dance floor.
The Gothic orchestral music surged, its tempo quickening like a frantic pulse. Every beat slammed against Ksenia's chest. Suddenly, as the cellos erupted, the other guests—who had been minding their own business—joined in this unidentifiable dance.
Looking closer, their eyes were all a dull, dead gray.
Only she and the man before her seemed to possess conscious will.
"Who are you?"
The man didn't speak. He simply followed the melody, forcing Ksenia step by step toward the roaring fireplace.
"Stop!"
He halted, elegantly supporting her waist as he spun her around.
"Who are you? I... I can't control my body!"
She felt like a marionette; every joint was tied to invisible strings, jerked by someone else's will. The dance continued—the friction of fingers, the mingling of breath. Every approach and retreat only deepened her terror. He was a human like her, so why was everything happening according to his will?
"Watch out for Dracula."
Goth's final, phantom-like smile echoed in Ksenia's mind. The last time she had felt this way was at the Manor.
She suddenly thought of the ring on her right pinky finger. But this time, there was no reaction.
"You're from the Manor."
The corners of the man's mouth finally twitched upward.
"What do you want? Why won't you speak?"
"Miss Ksenia," he finally whispered. "See you next weekend."
A snap of his fingers cracked like thunder in her ear.
"Ksenia!"
The first thing she saw was Henry's gentle face. The second was the portrait. The girl who had been looking at the kitten now seemed, from this angle, to be staring directly at her.
How was she back here? Shouldn't she be in the ballroom?
"Henry, where were you?"
"Got pulled into some mindless game," Henry explained.
"A game to 'find her'?"
Their eyes focused on the portrait.
"Do you believe the story, Ksenia?"
"Yes."
"Goth doesn't have it quite right. This woman... she didn't slip. She took her own life. That's why she's trapped here. That's why I told you that movie was wrong!"
Ksenia had no energy to argue about right or wrong. Too many things were haunting her: the Dracula man, the loss of her bodily autonomy, the castle's secrets.
"Why would she do that to herself?"
"Because my ancestor came to this castle specifically to break up with her," Henry said. His eyes—inherited from that very ancestor—gazed at the portrait with the same tenderness his forefather must have shown. "She was destined for America; there was no escape. My ancestor had his own marriage arranged. They had to end it. But she..." He sighed. "She should have just let go."
Let go. Ksenia wondered if she broke up with him right now and told him the truth, would Henry be able to "let go"?
For days, Ksenia couldn't stop thinking about Dracula. She felt as though she had touched something she was never meant to see. She had to see the Bearded Man.
At the yacht rental docks, she spotted him from a distance.
"How much to rent this yacht, sir?" she asked.
"100 credits an hour for the boat. 150 if you want me to skipper it. Just you?"
"My friends are right behind me." She pointed over her shoulder.
A dozen people, including Henry, swarmed onto the yacht. Electronic music and flowing champagne provided the perfect cover for Ksenia's true objective. As the party reached its peak, Ksenia tapped Henry's shoulder and shouted over the music, "Henry, I'm going to talk to the captain about ending this early!"
"Good! My ears are about to explode."
She carefully shut the cabin door.
"How did you find me?" the Bearded Man asked, looking satisfied.
"You left me a sign. Those scratches on the bar table looked random, but they were the code you taught me. I'm done. I want out."
"So sudden. Did you find something?"
Ksenia recounted the events of Halloween. Instead of being concerned, the Bearded Man looked ecstatic.
"Perfect. The fish is on the hook. Ksenia, don't be afraid. Your mission is simple: make Henry love you, attend the party, and keep your mouth shut. It's not hard for you. I know it."
"No."
Her sharp refusal caused a flicker in his expression, but he quickly smoothed it back into a fatherly mask. "My dear child, we will protect you. There's no need for fear. We are one and the same."
"You told me nothing! You sent me into that dangerous place and call it protection? You know something else, tell me!"
He hesitated, then sighed. "I don't know much. But tell me... do you believe there are people in this world who can disrupt—even control—magnetic fields?"
"What?" Ksenia blinked rapidly. "What are you talking about?"
Just then, a knock came at the door. It was Henry. "Babe? Are you done yet?"
Ksenia froze. "Almost! Go back and wait for me."
The Bearded Man checked the monitor. Once Henry was gone, he whispered, "Why did you bring him?"
"He follows me everywhere. I think he's going to be a problem."
"Regardless," the Bearded Man continued, "keep the secret. Make him love you. As for the 'Special Ones,' don't worry. You've already seen what they can do, and they don't show up often."
"So I'm supposed to go up against people with powers? Are you insane?" Ksenia couldn't believe it. She thought this was a battle of wits against normal people. The mention of 'abilities' changed everything.
"If you can believe the legends of Goth's castle, why is it so hard to believe in the Gifted? This world is complex, Ksenia. With their help, the Manor acts with total impunity. They are plotting something that could threaten the world. We just need you to be our eyes inside. We'll handle the violence."
"You've been watching me this whole time," Ksenia said, her voice cracking. "Let me go. I just want to be a normal person. I just want to dance. I don't want to be a mole, and I don't want to save the world."
"There is no way back now."
But she didn't care about saving the world at the cost of her life.
On the drive back to Loughton, Ksenia was a hollow shell. She had been naive to think the Bearded Man would let her go. She was just a tool. But it was too late—the Manor was watching her, and M-6 was watching her.
"What's wrong? You look terrible. Are you sick?" Henry rubbed her shoulder gently.
"I'm fine." Her voice was empty. Who could she even tell?
"Is it because of Lu Jiting?"
Ksenia looked at him, baffled. Why did he always jump to that name when she was sad?
"You don't need to keep thinking about him. I have nothing to do with him. I only care about you. Why do you think I don't love you?"
"Well..." Henry sighed. "I thought when you love someone, your emotions shift with their every move. You don't seem to care who I talk to, where I go, or why I'm home late. You aren't even curious about my family, my parents, or my childhood."
"We just have different definitions of love. I don't like being controlled, so I don't control you. I want to give you the freedom to go out and come home whenever you like. As for your past... if you want to tell me, I'll listen. But family history is a minefield. I didn't know if I should touch it."
Her words were perfectly logical. Henry was silenced. He had intended to ask about the sudden, bizarre yacht party, but her comment about "not wanting to be controlled " stuck in his throat.
Despite her crushing reluctance, when the black sedan pulled up to her apartment, Ksenia had no choice but to put on her deep purple gown and say a natural goodbye to Henry.
Just like last time, she got into the car bound for the Manor. But this time, after the pat-downs, the fingerprint scans, and the grueling security checks, she wasn't taken to the room with the red walls.