Evryn stood near the high, narrow window, staring out at the sun she didn't remember rising.
The thirst had faded, but the heat had not. It pulsed inside her skin now …less like hunger, more like an ember trapped beneath her ribs.
She didn't feel right.
She didn't feel human.
And yet… she felt herself. In fragments. In instincts. In questions that wouldn't go quiet.
Her eyes flicked down to her reflection in the window.
The hair ,the eyes like molten gold. It wasn't just the color that had changed. It was the intent behind them. She looked like someone watching from inside her own skull.
"i need to get out from this place" evryn said even she didn't know yet how.
A soft knock came at the door.
Evryn turned too fast … her body moving before her thoughts caught up.
She cleared her throat.
"Yes?"
The door opened slowly.
Not Asric.
A girl stepped inside…barely older than Evryn.
She was pale, freckled, her hair pulled into a tight braid, her eyes lowered in quiet deference. She wore a simple black servant's uniform, clean and perfectly pressed. Her steps were careful. Silent.
In her arms, neatly folded clothes.
She crossed the room without hesitation, bowed slightly, and placed the garments at the foot of the bed. She did not speak.
Evryn's breath caught.
She recognized her immediately.
"Brinna…?" Evryn said softly, disbelief tightening her chest.
Brinna lifted her head at last.
"Yes," she answered calmly.
Evryn stepped toward her, her heart racing. "What are you doing here?" Her voice shook despite her effort to stay steady. "How did you get here?"
Brinna's expression did not change.
"I woke up in this palace," she said. "Just like you "
Evryn swallowed. " they turned you too?"
"Yes."
The word was flat. Final.
"They told me I'm a vampire now ,I woke up three days before your awake now" Brinna continued, her tone strangely practical. "They gave me work. They said I would serve you. Stay with you."
Evryn stared at her, fear rising fast.
"You're talking like you accept it," she said, her voice breaking. "Like this doesn't matter."
Brinna looked away, adjusting her grip on her hands.
"They pay me well," she replied simply. "More than we ever earned as humans. I don't care if I'm human or vampire. Work is work."
The room seemed to tilt.
Evryn's head spun. "You don't care?" she whispered. "They changed us without asking. Without permission."
Her breath came faster now. "I don't even know who did this. Or why."
She searched Brinna's face desperately.
"My diary," Evryn said suddenly. "You know it. My book…I always kept it with me. Did you see it? Did anyone take it?"
Brinna shook her head once.
"I don't know," she said. "I didn't see anything." Then she added, colder now, "I'm like you, Evryn. Don't look to me for answers."
Evryn's chest tightened.
"They made you serve me," she said quietly. "Why?" Confusion and shame twisted together. "I'm not above you. I was a maid too. We were the same."
Brinna met her eyes briefly…no anger, no warmth.
"Not anymore," she said.
She turned, walked to the door, and left without another word.
The door closed softly behind her.
Evryn stood frozen, her hands trembling.
They changed us.
They separated us.
And they expect me to accept it.
Fear settled deep in her chest…not of what she had become…..of what this place would make her into.
Evryn wear the clothes Brinna had left, a simple black shift with a high collar and silver clasps.
She didn't feel tired and she didn't feel rested, either...Just… alert.
The room felt too large, too quiet, like a place meant to watch her rather than shelter her. She crossed to the wardrobe first, hands trembling as she pulled it open.
Clothes.
Black dresses. Dark cloaks. Heavy fabric meant to hide a body, not free it.
An idea formed suddenly, desperate and clumsy…but it was something.
She grabbed the longest pieces and knelt, her fingers working fast, knotting fabric to fabric the way she had once tied laundry bundles as a maid, the knots were uneven, rushed, her hands slick with sweat, she tested the weight once, pulling hard.
It held.
Her heart hammered as she dragged the makeshift rope toward the window.
Evryn stepped closer, gripping the stone railing and leaning forward just enough to look down…
Too far.
The ground was impossibly distant, the height swallowing her breath whole, her stomach twisted violently, the window wasn't just high.
It was death.
Her legs weakened, and she stumbled back, pressing herself against the wall, shaking.
No.
No, I can't.
She imagined slipping. The fabric tearing. Her body breaking against stone. The image was too clear, too fast, and fear crashed through her hard enough to make her dizzy.
Her breathing came fast now. Too fast.
Think. Think.
Her eyes snapped to the door.
The handle.
She stared at it as if it might move on its own.
Slowly, carefully, she crossed the room again. Every step felt loud. Every breath felt watched. She reached out, fingers hovering for a moment before closing around the handle.
Cold metal.
She swallowed.
Locked… or not?
Evryn turned it…just a little at first, afraid of the sound it might make, afraid of what would happen if it didn't move.
The handle shifted and her heart jumped painfully in her chest with it.... it wasn't locked.
Not yet.
She froze there, hand still on the door, fear and hope colliding violently inside her. If she opened it, someone might be waiting. If she stayed, this room would become a cage.
Either way, she realized something with terrifying clarity:
She was not a guest , she was a prisoner who hadn't been told yet.
Evryn waited....nothing, there is no voices , no footsteps....
She turned the handle fully and slipped into the corridor.
The door closed behind her with a soft, final sound that made her flinch. The hallway stretched in both directions, long and identical, lit by evenly spaced wall lamps that cast pale, steady light, stone walls, dark runners on the floor, doors that all looked the same.
Too clean. Too calm.
She chose a direction at random and started walking.
Her steps were cautious, light, her body tense as if expecting hands to grab her from the shadows. Every sound felt too loud…her breath, the faint brush of her sleeve against stone, the soft echo of her feet.
The corridor turned.....then turned again.
She passed an open archway that led to another hall, wider than the first, then another passage, narrower, sloping slightly downward. The air felt cooler here. Older.
She slowed.
This place wasn't built to help anyone find their way then she stopped and looked back the corridor behind her looked… wrong.
The Not unfamiliar.
Different.
The door she had come through was gone she can feel her chest tightened, telling her self that's not possible she turned slowly scanning the walls, the floor, the lamps, nothing marked the path she had taken.
Every direction now looked equally empty.
Her breathing quickened despite her effort to control it.
She walked faster, then slower again, afraid of being heard, afraid of not being heard at all. The palace seemed endless…corridors branching without logic, stairs that led nowhere familiar, doors closed tight like sealed mouths.
She pushed one open…
Empty.
Another…
Storage. Linen. Stone.
No windows.
No signs.
"I just need one exit," she whispered, her voice sounding small and wrong in the open space.
She leaned against the wall, pressing her palm to the stone.
Evryn straightened abruptly as the sound of footsteps reached her ears footsteps that were not her own. She froze where she stood, her heart pounding hard in her chest, her eyes wide as she scanned the corridor ahead, every sense sharpened. The sound drew closer, steady and calm, then slowly faded as whoever it was turned away, not searching, not alarmed, moving through the halls with purpose but without concern for her presence. Whoever walked there was not looking for her, and that realization unsettled her more than if they had been.
She moved again, faster now, turning sharply at the next intersection without thinking, then another, then another…panic guiding her feet more than reason.
Stairs.
She took them two at a time.
Down.
Then up again.
Her sense of direction shattered completely.
She was lost.
Truly lost.
Evryn slid down the wall until she was sitting on the cold stone floor, hugging her knees tightly to her chest. Her breath shook. Her hands trembled.
If I scream… will anyone come?
If I don't… will anyone notice I'm gone?
The palace remained silent.
Watching.
And for the first time since she woke in that room, Evryn understood the most terrifying truth of all:
Escape wasn't about running fast enough.
It was about knowing where you were.
And she didn't.