"Everything will be fine," Becca murmured beside me, pushing her metal cart. "We serve the pets, we leave. Simple."
There was nothing simple about this!
The Lords had returned ahead of schedule. Two of them, with new human pets. And with four servants still on vacation, Becca and I had been ordered to serve them in their private chambers.
My grip tightened around the edges of the heavy tray.
I just could not stay calm.
I had been hiding in this castle for five years. Five years of taking my aunt's potion that turned me into a vampire.
But there were rules.
Each sip was enough to last me a week.
I could not stay too long around the noble Lords, and I most certainly should not be anywhere around them when the effects of the potion was wearing out.
Like now.
I had taken a sip three days ago, and its effects were already weakening.
I was feeling oddly sluggish, too, and it terrified me.
If anyone discovered what I was, I would become one of those unfortunate human pets. Blood bags for high-ranking vampires.
And Lord Fashire...
My stomach clenched at the thought of him. He was the most ruthless Lord in the castle, and we were serving him first. I had seen his ever-changing parade of human playthings discarded like broken toys.
None of them lasted up to a month.
We soon came to a stop before a grand set of double doors. Gold-etched texts and patterns embellished the dark wood, and its imposing presence served as a point of no return.
This was it.
Lord Fashire's wing of the castle.
'Do not look into the Lords' eyes.'
'Keep your head down. Breathe, and move.'
'Simple.'
Becca caught my eye and nodded. Her earlier spark had died, and her skin was a shade paler than before.
We pushed open the heavy doors, and when we entered, I was shocked by the cold air.
It felt unnatural.
We walked through dark hallways before finally finding ourselves in front of the large double door that led directly to his bed chamber.
My heart thundered in my chest.
I hoped the potion would not fail me now, of all times, because I could not turn back.
Becca opened her mouth, about to announce us when his voice slid through the air, smooth as silk, yet foreboding.
"Come in."
"Ye—Yes, my Lord," we answered.
Becca reached for the door, and it swung open on its own. The very next moment, a gust of icy wind struck me, but I still forced my legs forward, and stepped into the lair of the most fearsome predator.
The chamber was dim, filled with dark recesses, and the curtains were drawn shut. A faint whimpering sound reached me, and it tugged at my chest. It sounded like his pet was crying.
Becca was still pushing her cart ahead, and it took me several long seconds to realise that she was far ahead of me. With an unsettling chill, I realised I had been standing still and not actually walking.
But my heart plummeted to my feet as something even worse happened the very next moment.
Lord Fashire had suddenly appeared right in front of me.
I had seen him once before when I had first come to the castle. His cruel eyes had locked onto mine, and I had frozen then, too. But that had been from a distance.
This was nothing like back then.
He was far more imposing up close. Silver-grey eyes pinned me in place, and the madness that danced in their depths was sharp and consuming.
"Now, how long did you intend to dawdle here?" His growl cut into me, cold enough to numb my bones.
'Run. Run! RUN!'
My lips trembled. No sound came out.
'Move! Please...'
His gaze dropped to the tray in my hands. A predatory smile curved his lips.
"You," his voice crept out with a menacing undercurrent.
'He knows.'
My heart thrashed against my ribs.
"My Lord?" Becca's voice trembled from somewhere behind him.
Why was Becca answering?
"Take that cart somewhere else." His eyes never left mine. "This one here will perform her duties."
Oh...
"Yes, my Lord."
Becca rushed past us. The door slammed shut.
I was alone with him.
'He knows…'
Panic clawed up my throat.
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 back into the dark recesses of the room.
"Carry on, then," his words trailed to meet me from where I stood.
'He didn't notice?'
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?"
"I—I am very sorry, my Lord!" I said a little too loud 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 and 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 I took. 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!' I quickly told myself.
Distraction meant death.
I set the tray on the low table, arms aching, and lifted the metal lid to reveal four steaming dishes. I prepared to lower it to the boy's level, hoping he would choose whichever appealed to him most.
It was the only kindness I could offer.
"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.
The sluggishness had vanished. The potion was still working... for now.
"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.'
What did Lord Fashire want with a child? Vampires didn't keep children as pets. They couldn't provide enough blood.
The thought burned in my chest. I swallowed it down. There was nothing I could do.
I served him another plate, and he emptied it too. When I reached for the third, his eyes lifted briefly to mine. They were empty.
My stomach rolled and I looked away.
'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 and his intense eyes never left me as I walked out of the chamber.
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 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.
"Hiln…" her voice trembled.
I soon noticed her fidgeting with her fingers. Her face was twisted with worry. "I was so scared, Hiln. What took you so long?"
I slowly placed the tray on the floor beside me. "I don't understand. What do you—"
"I have been waiting… for a long time now. I—I thought…" She sighed. Her eyes darted to her cart behind her before returning to me. "I was even starting to think something might have… happened to you."
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 it.
Just how long had I remained in his chambers?
"I… I…" I faced Becca. "I could have sworn, I wasn't in there for that long…"
It did not make sense for Becca to have served all the pets while I only served one.
"No… that's impossible," I murmured.
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 am just… glad this is over."
Lord Fashire didn't detain me or interrogate me or hold me hostage.
So everything was fine.
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 sensation that just wouldn't leave me.
Just how long had I spent in Lord Fashire's chamber?
Little did I know just how worse it would get the following day.
When Becca emerged from serving Lord Fashire in my place, her face was drained of colour. She wouldn't speak of it at first.
It wasn't until later, after I dragged her to the village pastry shop hoping some time away from the castle's suffocating atmosphere would help, that she finally told me.
Lord Fashire had asked about me.
And he wanted me to serve him tonight.