BOOK FOUR
Lying on my back, the icy chill of the room seeping into my bones, I am jarred awake by my usual nightmares of icy landscapes and familiar yet alien faces. With nowhere to run, I simply lay there, thinking. The reek of urine and the echoing squeak of mice are my only companions in this small, cold room, just one floor above the furnace in the slave quarters of this dynasty.
I still remember how, after that night when I was brought to this castle, my full recovery began.
"I swear it, Irene..." Leonora's voice trembled as she dropped to her knees, tears streaming down her face. "On our way back to the camp, my guts instructed me to search under the ice, and I found you." She recounted her story, her voice shaking as she revealed her identity as a fairy and her fate as a slave. "I never planned any of this," she said, her words heavy with regret.
She described her eventual recognition by the blood Lords, who granted her freedom in exchange for her healing and foretelling abilities. But even with her freedom, I could sense the fear in her voice as she described Mistress Hanna—a cruel, merciless woman who showed no mercy towards those deemed unworthy.
"I'd made Lord Ralph's men promise to keep you a secret," she said, her voice a faint whisper, "but there's always a traitor. He found out, Lord Ralph."
✨
As the bell tolls, the cold floor beneath me stirs me from my thoughts. I must hurry to clean myself before Mistress Hanna arrives to assign tasks. My body feels weak, but I push on, for I know that any delay would incur her wrath.
The memories of Leonora's story echo in my mind as I work to prepare myself, and I wonder if her compassion was genuine or simply a ploy to gain my trust.
Before long, the sound of heavy footsteps approaches, and I know that the time has come.
The sound of the footsteps grows louder as they approach my meager living quarters. I can feel my heart pounding against my chest, and I know that Mistress Hanna has arrived.
A gruff voice booms, "Get up, girl. You've got work to do."
I quickly rise to my feet, my legs shaking from both the cold and fear. Mistress Hanna stands before me, her eyes narrowed and her arms crossed. She is a tall, imposing woman, with a face like stone; pale as the moonlight and a stance that exudes power.
I try my best to look humble and obedient, for I know that any sign of resistance could mean swift punishment. Mistress Hanna looks me over with a scrutinizing gaze, her eyes scanning every inch of my body as if assessing my worth.
"Hmmm… I've heard you've had some… special care. Don't think that makes you any more valuable to me," she says, her voice dripping with disdain.
I stand silent, afraid to even meet her eyes.
Eventually my gaze meets her cold, hard one, her piercing stare sending a shiver down my spine. She calls me "wolf girl" or "wolfling", and has even dubbed me a witch for my ginger hair and mismatched eyes—one blue, one brown. According to her, only witches and sirens possess such features, and she believes that I am one or the other.
"Mistress Victoria is having guests from the other castles, so you should know how important these guests are, wolf girl. You are to serve them tea, not too sweet and with just the right hint of lemon. Do you understand?" Her tone leaves no room for argument, and her piercing glare lingers on me, sending a chill through my bones. I nod in agreement, not daring to challenge her authority.
She scoffs, her dismissal stinging my pride, before turning on her heel and leaving. I am left alone with my thoughts, the pressure of my task weighing heavily on my shoulders.
"What mess have I gotten into?" I whisper to myself.
An imagination of myself entering her chambers and seeing a group of vampires standing in a circle, their cloaks as dark as the night sky, weighs heavily on my shoulders.
Mistress Victoria, the lady of the second castle! I have never served her, and have no idea of her tastes.