The gentle rasp of a broom dragging across weathered stone filled the crisp autumn air. Red leaves whispered their way across the pavement, swirling around Zelda's feet as she pushed the last of the day's work into a towering pile. The pile loomed like an unspoken taunt of her endless labour.
She paused, wiping her forehead with the back of her hand, her baby hairs sticking stubbornly to her skin. Her black maid's dress, now coated in a dull grey film, clung to her back. The small white apron tied around her waist hung limp, its once-pristine colour dulled by dust. Zelda sighed, gazing up at the overcast sky. For a brief moment, she allowed herself to imagine the breeze sweeping her far away from this place.
But then she felt it again, that eerie prickle at the back of her neck. Her green eyes flicked upward to the third-floor balcony, where she swore she'd caught movement before. The railings stood empty, but the feeling of being watched lingered. She frowned, her fingers tightening around the broom handle.
Turning back to her task, Zelda gave the pile one final sweep and set the broom aside. The sweat clinging to her neck felt oddly oppressive. Despite the season, the chill of autumn never seemed to reach her. Perhaps it was the endless chores, or maybe it was the shadow that watched her from above.
Seb's shadow, perhaps.
Seb wasn't just any dog. He was the queen's prized hound, trained to be far more than a loyal companion. Every tilt of his head, every wag of his tail, felt deliberate, calculated. Though he wore the guise of a royal pet, Zelda knew better. He was her sister's eyes and ears in this palace, planted here to ensure she stayed in line.
Her sister. The thought of her brought a bitter taste to Zelda's mouth.
Fifteen siblings, all vying for power, and Zelda had been the easiest to cast aside. The youngest, the least threatening. A pawn to be thrown into enemy territory under the guise of loyalty—a witch in the heart of the vampire kingdom.
She touched the jade pendant resting against her collarbone, its cool surface grounding her in the present. The pendant was her only possession, a gift from her mother, infused with magic to conceal her identity. Without it, her secret would burn brighter than the sun and likely get her killed.
"Freedom," she muttered under her breath, her voice bitter. The word felt foreign now, a luxury she hadn't tasted in years.
When the day's work was finally done, Zelda retreated to her small quarters. The room was cold, its emptiness almost oppressive since her roommate had left to tend to her ailing mother. The quiet gnawed at her, making it impossible to sleep. She rolled onto her side, staring at the cracked ceiling.
"If I run, Seb will know," she whispered to herself, clutching the pendant. "If I stay, they'll find out eventually." Either way, her fate felt sealed.
Her thoughts wandered to the palace and the way its beauty seemed to mock her. The vampire kingdom was thriving, its people well-fed, its streets safe. Even the servants here earned more than the highest scholars in her kingdom. She hated how much she noticed the difference, how it twisted a knife in her gut.
They weren't starving here. They weren't clawing at each other just to survive.
Her sisters didn't care about that. They didn't care about people or her. She was nothing but a disposable pawn in their game.
Throwing off her covers, Zelda wrapped a thick shawl around her shoulders. The room felt stifling, its silence pressing down on her like a weight. She lit a small lantern, the flickering light trembling against the cold stone walls, and slipped out into the corridor.
The air outside was biting, sharp enough to sting her lungs. The distant cries of crows echoed across the castle grounds, joined by the low, haunting howl of wolves—vampire guardians who roamed the perimeter at night. Zelda's steps faltered for a moment. Even the sound of her breathing felt too loud in the oppressive stillness.
She clutched the shawl tighter around her thin shoulders, her white nightgown billowing against the wind as she made her way to the garden. It was a place she sought when the weight of her existence became unbearable, a maze of tall hedges leading to a fountain carved in the likeness of the goddess of fertility.
The sight of it always brought a flicker of peace. But tonight, that illusion shattered.
"Zelda," a low, rasping voice called behind her.
She froze, her grip tightening on the lantern's handle until her knuckles turned white. Turning slowly, she saw Seb emerge from the shadows. His patched, threadbare coat was barely enough to shield him from the cold, and his face carried the weariness of someone who had long been out of place. His red hair was covered in hay and dust, while his hands had stains.
"What are you doing out here?" he asked, his tone more probing than concerned.
"Why do you care?" Zelda shot back, the words sharp but her voice trembling ever so slightly. "Don't think I don't notice you following me. Watching me. Every moment. Do you think I don't see it?"
Seb's expression darkened, and before she could step away, he grabbed her arm, his grip unyielding. "And who's going to listen to your complaints, princess?" His voice dropped to a whisper, venom dripping from every word. "You don't belong here. You don't belong anywhere. Not here, not in your kingdom. No one wants you. You have nothing."
Her heart twisted painfully, but she kept her face calm, refusing to let him see through the cracks. "Let me go, Seb," she said evenly, her voice sharper now.
"And if I don't?" His smirk widened, his confidence growing as he held her gaze. "You know your sister sent me here to keep an eye on you, right? To make sure you don't mess things up. Do you think anyone back home would care if I told them you've been acting suspiciously? You're just a pawn. Always have been."
Zelda yanked her arm back, her mind racing. She wanted to fight, to scream, to wipe the smug look off his face, but she couldn't risk it. She couldn't risk anything. "If you think threats scare me, you're wrong," she said.
Seb's laugh was low, mocking. "Oh, I'm not trying to scare you. I'm just reminding you of your place."
The words hit their mark, but Zelda refused to flinch. Her jaw tightened as she wrenched her arm, trying to break free. "Let me go," she demanded, her voice sharp, almost daring him.
"And if I don't?" Seb tightened his hold, his confidence swelling as he leaned closer.
Her anger flared, her free hand itching to strike him. But she hesitated, her mind racing. The consequences of lashing out now could be disastrous. "I'm warning you, Seb," she said, her voice low and steady, masking the tremor in her chest.
Seb laughed, the sound cold and grating. "Warnings? From you?"
Before Zelda could respond, a shadow moved. The sound of boots crushing frost-covered leaves broke the tension like a whip.