By the time they reached the second level, Mina realized the driver had vanished, leaving only the three of them to navigate the castle. The passage opened into a long corridor lined with narrow windows overlooking the dark night beyond. They were then led down a side hall that turned sharply inward, the air growing colder as the stone pressed close on either side.
The ceiling arched high above them, their footsteps echoing through the emptiness as though they were the only people in the castle.
“Do you ever get lost in these halls?” Jonathan asked with a smile.
Sofia slowed, as though only just remembering their presence. She looked at him, grave concern etched across her face. “No, Mr. Harker. But I have been here for many years. The castle is certainly dangerous for those unfamiliar with its ways.”
Mina swallowed, struggling to imagine that such a place could ever be a home.
“Certainly,” Jonathan said. “I spoke only in jest.”
Sofia nodded slowly, her expression unchanged as she turned and continued to lead them down the hall. Mina and Jonathan exchanged glances before following.
They turned down another corridor, the castle beginning to feel like a maze, but Mina’s heart clenched when she caught sight of the room ahead. A carved stone fireplace dominated thefar wall, its flames providing most of the room’s light despite a large, intricate chandelier hanging unlit in the center. Beneath it stood a long wooden table that could have seated twenty guests comfortably, yet only four chairs were set out, one on each side.
As they stepped fully inside, Mina realized the ceilings were far taller than expected, nearly twice the height of the hall. Any lingering doubt about the castle’s grandeur vanished.
“The Count will join you shortly,” Sofia said, her eyes avoiding theirs. “You may take your seats and help yourselves to supper.” She gestured to the table, laid with thick slices of brown bread, bowls of pickled vegetables, wedges of sharp cheese, and a platter of roasted chicken, its skin golden and crisp.
“Thank you, Sofia,” Jonathan said. She nodded, a pinched expression on her face as she moved to the perimeter of the room, standing rigidly while they waited for the Count.
Mina’s gaze drifted to the chairs, and she hesitated, unsure of which seat to take. Her eyes flicked to the head of the table, nearest the entrance—surely that was where the Count would sit. In the end, she chose a place near the middle, lingering just behind the chair as though waiting for permission she was not certain she needed.
A figure stepped into the room without a sound, the ease of their movement sending a shiver down her spine. From a single glance, Mina knew this was the Count. His hair was stark black, his eyes ice blue, and there was a symmetry to his face—his bone structure pleasing to behold—yet something about his presencewas undeniably intimidating. When his gaze met Mina’s, she looked away, a flush rising to her cheeks.
“Good evening,” the Count said, his voice low and smooth. His expression was calm, almost pleasant, and he seemed entirely at ease to find the two of them—utter strangers—in his home. “I am Dracula. I hope your journey has been pleasant.”
“Good evening,” Mina said. She inclined her head in a small bow, feeling suddenly aware of him in a way she could not quite explain. She was not easily struck by most men, and yet her heart fluttered, absurdly, like a schoolgirl’s. When she had been told she was to marry a Count from the Carpathians, she had never imagined someone likethis. He seemed older than her twenty-three years, but not by much.
“Count Dracula,” Jonathan said, crossing the room to shake his hand. “Good evening. Jonathan Harker.”
“Mr. Harker,” the Count said, “I am pleased to finally make your acquaintance.” Mina thought back to what Jonathan had told her of the property just outside of London—the paperwork he’d brought along. It seemed strange that her husband should have had contact with Jonathan before she ever had.
“Certainly,” Jonathan said.
“Please, sit,” the Count said, gesturing to the table. He moved to Mina’s side and drew out her chair. “And you, my bride? How was your journey?”
She thanked him as she eased into the seat. “It was long but rather beautiful.”
“Ah, yes,” the Count said, taking his own chair. “I am glad to know you have both seen the beauty of our lands. I have travelled to many places, but none as breathtaking as Transylvania.”
Only once he had sat did Sofia step away from her place against the wall to take Mina’s empty plate, filling it with the food prepared for them.
“Oh, I can do that myself,” Mina said.
“Nonsense,” the Count said, offering her a soft smile. “Sofia has been with my family for many years. She enjoys serving the guests of the castle.”
He rose then, lifted a decanter of clear liquid from the table, and came to Mina’s side once more. Raising her glass, he poured less than a quarter full.
“Plum brandy,” he said, holding it out to her. “Have you ever tried it?” His voice had dropped now, as though meant for her alone.
She swallowed and shook her head. “No, I haven’t.”
“Well, let’s see if you have a taste for the Transylvanian.” His eyes were magnetic, and she looked away as she took a sip.
“It’s good,” she said.
“I am glad you enjoy it, Wilhelmina.”
