I examined the vial. It looked similar to the higher end medication I had been prescribed early on before we had to look to other methods once the money was out and we had to put everything on credit. But I knew better than to trust blindly in this place.
I lowered the vial, tucking it into my palm. “What about Silas? Where would he be during the day?”
“Master is busy during those hours, and you must not disturb him. You are only required to dine with him during the evening hours, and for now, that is all the direction he wishes to give at this time.”
“Oh,” I said, heart sinking. I sat at the edge of the bed, comprehending a few truths that became more unreal not by the day but by the very hour the longer I went on knowing such a man and the ghosts he carried.
Ebony floated up from the bed to the window, disappearing, then reappearing into the dark corner of the room, her form flickering as an old lamp does. “I can leave you to dress if you like. As I have mentioned, we will work on getting a proper wardrobe that you require, but the dresses from our previous guestshould suffice.” With a wave of her hand, the armoire shifted back to its original spot, and the doors flung open.
A dress of crimson accented in black lace floated toward me.
I ran a hand over the beautiful satin organza fabric. Despite centuries-old the fashion, it was apparent the woman who had stayed in this room had gorgeous taste.
I glanced up, ready to thank Ebony, only to find no one there. The vial sparkled in my palm, crimson glass flanked between gold fringes.
There was something Silas and Ebony was hiding, that much I was sure about. But what exactly, tumbled against my head in the same way the liquid knocked against the glass. What I did know was to trust my own instincts.
I tossed the vial into the nightstand, slamming the drawer closed, then dressed quickly. First order of business was to get a better grasp on my situation, and that involved nerves of steel and daylight.
I ate alone at the massive table surrounded by beautiful artwork I could not fully appreciate the night before. I pushed around a bowl of porridge, taking in many statues and vases. A priceless collection that belonged in a museum and not in a rotting castle. I avoided the empty chair at the end of the table, sitting there in silence with me, mocking its own emptiness.
Once finished, I took to exploring the place I was unwillingly to call home. I walked the long corridors to the room.
Large bookshelves touching the mosaic ceiling greeted me warmly, wrapping itself around the vastness. I ran my head along the wood of the desk, papers aged yellow strewn about in handwriting either illegible or in an entirely different language.
Musk and a touch of spice covered the books. Despite the shelves only being touched by one living thing, they were immaculate and free of dust thanks to Ebony.
I ran a finger along the spines of the books. I would’ve loved to spend the entire day in this little room alone, but I needed to know what lay in the rest of the castle before I could settle, especially the areas in which are of special interests.
I moved on into the bowels, finding room after room of crumbling elegance in disrepair over the last few centuries. None were of any particular interest, as most were receiving rooms or bedrooms no one had stayed in for a number of years. Down the grand staircase, sunlight streamed through the large windows, illuminating the chilled bones of the castle.
The echoes of my heels on the marbled floors reverberated into the hushed space. I heaved the door open, taking special care to glance behind to see that no one was stopping me. Silas didn’t rush down the stairs, demanding I be locked away in a faraway tower alone. Nor did the ghosts or Ebony stop me as I pulled the door open and graced the warmth of the day’s rays.
Down the steps, green shrubbery lined the property with white buds hiding themselves from the height of the day. I came upon the rose garden my room overlooked. Roses of crimson curled their petals toward the sky with such brilliance. I took one by the stem and breathed in its sweet scent, a remembrance of the ignorance stored itself away into the dark recesses of my heart. For there is no other way if I were to survive the beast.
Stone benches peered out into the garden basked in the warmth of the sun, the cool rock against my back as I sat and admired the beauty before me. The garden afforded one vantage point, overlooking a small village to the east of the castle. Tiny houses dotted the landscape, standing against the thick fog permeating the road and surrounding fauna. I trotted to the iron gates towering in reach of the little village, careful to not trip over my dress.
There were no locks or chains that kept me in.
Or kept me from going out.
I glanced back, expecting to see someone—anyone to stop me from making a grand escape down to the village. But no one came out.
The castle sighed in resignation as I pushed the heavy gate open and stumbled into the fog. I trudged down the path, the fog thicker the closer I got. A river boarded the town with its dark, murky depth as I crossed over a rickety bridge. One wrong step, and I’d be swept under the current below.
I passed by crumbling buildings of red clay bricks and thatched roofs. Several buildings were missingpieces of bricks and were on the brink of collapse. Decay hung heavy in the air, tickling my lungs the closer to the center of town I walked.
I covered my mouth and coughed into my handkerchief, continuing further into the deserted village. The cobblestone path gave way to the town square where a large fountain gurgled softly in the spring light. The market was in full swing, with many somber townsfolk haggled for goods or services.
Not too far off from the hustle and bustle of the market was a funeral procession somber march through the town square silenced some of the transactions. Six men carried a wooden coffin as a crowd clothed in black followed the casket, singing hushed hymns. Women cried out, wailing to the sky, their song crescendoing as the drummers rolled their drumstick, kicking in time to the mourners’ march. Those in the market turned their attention and bowed their heads low, paying respects to the newly dead.
“Tragic, isn’t it? Makes it the fifth funeral held this month.” A woman in a simple blue dress and an apron walked up beside me, her basket nudging my side. An icy blue smiled from underneath a purple cloak. “I haven’t seen you around these parts before.”
“I moved here recently.”
I lied, avoiding her intense gaze.
She hummed a tune. “Interesting, seeing as no one just ‘moves’ here. I see you’re married.” When I shifted my hand out of sight, hiding the ring, the woman’s lips thinned. “I’d be careful where you say you are from. Most do not take kindly to outsiders, especially notnow. They very well may pin what’s been happening on you.”
