I opened my mouth but was unsure how to reply, so I didn’t say anything. I heard Henri chuckle low in his chest as I walked away, color rising to my cheeks once more.
Deep shadows began to pool around the château by the time I finished with my duties for the day, and even though I would need to be up by six, I was wide awake. It was past midnight when I gave up on trying to sleep and took the servants’ stairs down to the second floor, walking along the darkened back hall toward the balcony.
I started when I rounded a corner to find myself face-to-face with a badger, drawing itself up, teeth bared. A taxidermy figure. I chuckled at how easily I’d been frightened and stepped closer to the tableau taking place in a patch of clover and weeds, which I realized had been dried and painted to resemble life. The badger’s glass eyes gleamed, almost appearing real, its impressive snarl a work of great skill, no doubt, but I was still left unsettled by the mammal. I sympathized with the reaction of the mouse that cowered before the badger.
I shook my head as I continued to the balcony. As soon as I let myself out into the night’s embrace, I sighed with pleasure, a soft breeze caressing my skin. I’d always loved the night: the stars overhead, the buzz of insects, and that feeling of being the only person awake in the universe. For me, night had always been a time of contemplation, reflection, philosophy. I hadn’t had that since I’d run away from home, and I missed it terribly. I felt so scattered and harried here. I didn’t know how servants did this for a living. With any luck, I would only need to hide away until my eighteenth birthday, whereupon I could claim my inheritance. I still wasn’t sure how I was going to do that, given my aunt’s interference, but I had six months to find a way.
I leaned against the balcony railing and stared up at the sky until the chill of the evening chased gooseflesh across my arms. I lingered still, reluctant to return to my claustrophobic room, when I looked out over the hedge maze and noticed a peculiar light emanating from beyond the manicured bushes. It was a pale glow that wavered like candlelight from a white-marbled building near the tree line.
A mausoleum.
I shivered. I wasn’t one to believe in superstition, but the flickering light made the trees around the mausoleum appear as if they were alive, or dark figures moved about them.
Nonsense,I chided myself, shaking my head.You’re more tired than you realized.
But then I swore I saw a dark shadow dart out from the cover of the forest to enter the hedge maze from the opposite end. But why would anyone do that at this hour? Then again, why would anyone be at a mausoleum in the middle of the night? Something felt wrong, and I briefly considered rousing Grimes but quickly decided against it. He’d already made a comment about how I was disrupting the peace of the house. This would only add fuel to that fire.
I couldn’t dismiss what I was seeing any more than I could have ignored that hand off the footpath. Resolving to uncover the source of the strange phenomenon, I hurried inside and down the servants’ stairs before I could change my mind. As much as my mind wanted to jump to thoughts of ghosts and grave robbers, I wasn’t expecting to run into anything of the sort. That would be absurd. There was sure to be a perfectly reasonable explanation for the events that were playing out. But I also knew that I wouldn’t be able to get a good night’s rest at the château ever again if I didn’t investigate.
My steps faltered briefly as I stepped out into the night air, where I debated whether I should turn back for a light. But by the time I returned, any sign of whoever had entered the maze might have vanished. In any case, the moon was enough to see by, even if it was still over a week away from being full.
Footfalls muffled by grass, I approached the main entrance to the hedge maze and hesitated. I’d never been in the maze before. It hadn’t looked terribly elaborate from the second-floor balcony, and really, it was meant for a leisurely walk rather than some puzzle, so I figured it would be safe enough to enter, even at such a late hour. While servants weren’t strictly forbidden from entering the maze, there was an unspoken line between what was for servants and what was for the family of the house and their guests. It would be looked upon unfavorably if I was caught in the hedge maze. And so, I simply needed to avoid being observed. Easy enough under cover of darkness.
Guarding the entrance of the maze, pouring from out of the side of a hedge, was a figure etched in milky white stone, arms positioned to convey the act of escape, as if it had run from something within. Not creepy at all. Its head was angled as if looking about for its pursuer, eyes solid orbs of white. The figure was naked with snakes arranged in a halo around a woman’s head. Medusa, clearly. Ironic that she was the one made of stone in this instance.
As I slid past the statue, it seemed to stare at me imploringly, its position of flight causing me to hesitate, as if it were warning me not to enter. But that was silly, of course. It only felt ominous because of the stillness of the night. It made me feel alone, vulnerable, as if I was being watched. But if I gazed upon this statue in the middle of the day, I knew that it would be more amusing and beautiful than portentous.
The path was much darker than I anticipated, the angle of the moon throwing much of the maze into inky blackness, while only slivers of the ground were illuminated to see by. I rounded one corner and then another, choosing my way at random, until I came upon a dead end and was forced to retreat my steps briefly before carrying on. This occurred several times before I began to worry that I would find myself lost within the hedges. But the maze was not limitless, and I eventually stumbled upon a clearing at the center of the maze. Columns lined the wide area, with red flowers overflowing from pots. I was sure they were lovely during a noonday stroll, but in the dead of night, they looked like blood spilling from their containers.
A fountain gurgled at the center of the clearing, a sound calming to my nerves just then. I approached the fountain cautiously. It was elaborate, with three statues standing at the center, back-to-back. These weren’t creatures like Medusa; they were goddesses, faces tilted up toward the night sky, as if they could sense the presence of the stars overhead. I had an interest in Greek mythology, so as I slowly circled the three statues, I recognized Selene with a crescent moon atop her flowing hair like a crown brandishing a torch. Next to her was Artemis, a quiver of arrows dangling from her back as she considered an arrow that she held up to the sky. Finally came Hecate in swirling robes, pressing a large key to her lips. The goddess of the moon, the goddess of the hunt, and the goddess of witchcraft and magic. The white stone seemed to glow with an unearthly radiance, as if they had been conjured by some fairy magic, an impression magnified by the clear sky reflected in the water around them. The scene was ghostly and surreal, making me feel like a trespasser on some sacred land, finding my way there by accident as I stumbled through the maze.
The crack of a twig snapping directly behind me broke the spell, and I whirled around, eyes wide and half expecting a ghost to materialize. The figure that I faced was no spirit, however, but a woman wrapped in a dark hooded cloak. I was sure it was the same figure I’d spied running from the mausoleum. Red hair spilled out from around her neck, and I could make out a spray of freckles across her nose. Her green eyes widened as she took me in and retreated a step.
“Where’s Hargrove?” she exclaimed, voice accusing.
My heart pounded as the woman’s eyes raked over me, assessing. “I … I saw a light in the mausoleum. I’m Hargrove’s replacement.”
The woman drew back, as if I’d struck her. She paled, those freckles standing out even starker against her nose. “No.” She put a hand to her head and turned away. I watched her awkwardly, feeling like I’d walked in on some sort of secret rendezvous between two lovers.
Of course,I realized, closing my eyes. The candle at the mausoleum had been a signal for Hargrove to meet his sweetheart in the maze. It all made sense now.
The woman suddenly faced me again and took a step nearer, threateningly. “You never saw me.”
“What?” I blinked at her curiously before it dawned on me that finding her in this compromising situation could be ruinous to her virtue.
She scoffed. “Just promise me.”
“I don’t even know you. What could I possibly have to say?”
“I think it would be in both of our interests if—”
Her voice broke off as the sound of voices spooled out to meet us. I couldn’t hear what was being said, but they were drawing nearer. Someone else was in the maze. Someone might find me there, where I definitely should not be.
Before I even had a chance to consider my options, the woman fled, her cloak billowing out behind her as she darted out of the clearing in the direction of the mausoleum entrance. I stared after her silently until the voices came to me again, this time even closer. They were clearly headed this way. I had to leavenow.
I sprang toward the exit the girl had disappeared through, but before I reached it, the voices cleared, and I saw two figures rounding the hedges at the opposite end. I dropped quickly behind a stone bench and tried to steady my breathing as I heard a girl sigh.
Was I really about to be caught in the middle of another lover’s rendezvous? Was thisthespot for couples to court each other unchaperoned? It was scandalous. I couldn’t imagine why any woman found a man’s attentions worth the risk of her reputation.
