I took in a deep breath and straightened my back. The air within the Lords' wing felt stifling, as if an invisible weight pressed down upon us, threatening to crush us beneath its oppressive presence. I swallowed the dry lump lodged in my throat, struggling to find my equilibrium amidst the suffocating atmosphere.
Our footsteps, normally muted and discreet, now echoed with an unnerving loudness. The hallowed halls stretched out endlessly before us, and we treaded cautiously, mindful that even the slightest sound, breath, or heartbeat could be easily detected by the Lords.
The very air we breathed felt like an extension of the Lords themselves—a potent mixture of power and otherworldly allure. The mere thought sent shivers down my spine. I fought to steady my racing heart, understanding that my emotions were like an open book and they could easily pick my emotions the moment we met them face to face. I looked at Becca and found her staring back at me. She nodded, appearing a little nervous. Her earlier excitement had died down a little, and her eyes seemed to mirror my thoughts.
It would be wise to avoid direct eye contact with the Lords—I knew this instinctively. Averting our gazes would help to maintain a semblance of subservience, of the proper order in this intricate dance between servant and master.
I relaxed. It did feel nice that I wasn't alone in this. I would have had a breakdown if I were to handle facing them alone. Every servant was afraid of the Lords except Matadre. Though some of the servants were already used to working around them.
I had never been to the Lords' wings before, so Becca led the way to the dining hall. She had been here once or twice to deliver a message to one of the other Lords.
But why the dining hall? I eyed Becca's tray and mine. Two people couldn't finish all of this unless we had to be feeding all the other pets.
My unease resurfaced. If all this food was for all the human pets of the Lords, then that meant all the Lords would be in the same room with them.
Or was I overthinking things? Surely, the Lords had better things to do than to watch the mundane act of their pets eating.
"Becca?" I whispered under my breath, speaking as low as I could. I hoped she could hear me. I could barely even hear myself.
She gave me a small smile, attempting to alleviate my concerns. "Don't worry. We're—"
Someone approached out of a corner, and we stopped in our tracks. Relief washed over me as I recognized Cyril, a soft-spoken woman who was Lord Daniels' pet. She acknowledged the trays we carried, her tired smile revealing her weariness. Dark circles marred her eyes and I shifted my gaze to the floor, guilty.
It rubbed me the wrong way to see a fellow human suffer like this. Lord Daniels wasn't exactly caring, but he wasn't cruel either, and the neglect of a vampire Lord can be a blessing most times. But it wasn't a pleasant prospect when their full attention turned to you.
Well. Anyone would be better than Lord Fashire.
Cyril's voice, a low and throaty whisper, reached our ears, "The Lords await you in their chambers."
My heart skipped a beat, nearly ceasing altogether. "Their chambers?" I repeated, my voice barely a whisper.
Cyril nodded, her long black hair swaying with the motion. "I apologize for the short notice. I was just on my way to the kitchens to let you know. Lady Gremlin insisted, and the Lords have retired to their rooms after a long day. It would be convenient for both us and the new arrivals to be served there."
"Oh." Becca smiled, a slight boost of confidence enveloping her. "That's okay."
'No, it isn't!' I gave her an incredulous look. I would have honestly preferred meeting them once and being done with it. But going into every room and taking care of things in their presence was far more nerve-racking.
At the dinner table, they could talk to one another and ignore us, but us serving them alone in the room…
Cyril's gaze fell upon me, her eyes filled with understanding. She offered me a consoling smile, genuine this time. "I see you are new to this position. I have not seen you in these quarters before."
I just nodded. I had decided from the beginning to keep my interaction with the other humans to a minimum.
"So, who should we attend to first? Lord Daniels?" Becca asked.
I envied that confidence of hers. She was easily scared but adapted well to whatever situation she faced.
Cyril's head shook in response, her black locks swaying once again. "My Lord is currently occupied, and I have taken a few fruits from the garden, so I am content for now." She paused and her face creased with worry. "The new arrivals must be attended to first."
Dread settled over me like a suffocating shroud. That meant we would face Lord Fashire first—someone who possessed neither the patience to wait nor the temperament to tolerate us attending to anyone else before him. And he would know if we did.
Just our rotten luck.
My heart hammered within my chest, threatening to burst free. I turned my attention to Cyril, the panic evident in my eyes. She regarded me with a sadness that resonated deep within my soul, her sigh a mournful melody as she clasped her hands on her chest and looked away.
She didn't have to say a word for us to know we had to serve Lord Fashire first.
Becca attempted to offer a solution, her voice tinged with forced optimism. "It's alright, Hiln," she said, stepping forward. "I'll take the cart to Lord Fashire's chambers first. You can head over to Lady Gremlin's—"
I didn't want to oppose her. I didn't even want to say anything. But it felt like my conscience wouldn't let me take another sacrifice. It was unbearable enough watching my kind slave away at the feet of the Lords. Having Becca march into Lord Fashire's chambers and face him alone tore at me. She was my friend. He may do nothing. He may do something. But I couldn't take that chance. The uncertainty was too much to bear.
"No," I cut her off, slightly raising the tray in my hands to emphasize my point. "This wouldn't be enough for—" I swallowed my words, realizing the implication.
It would be an insult to suggest that the meagre portion of food I carried would be insufficient for Lady Gremlin's pet. She was known to ensure her pets were well-fed before bringing them into the castle, a token of her ostentatious care.
And I couldn't wait as Becca delivered the food to Lord Fashire's pet. I didn't know how long that would take.
The tension thickened in the air as I held my ground, determined to alleviate the burden from Becca's shoulders. We were in this together, and I couldn't allow her to face the horrors of Lord Fashire's presence alone.