•••
The citadel loomed like a beast carved from darkness itself, its jagged spires clawing at the heavens. The fortress was alive, breathing cold and silence, and it sent an involuntary shiver down Selene's spine.
She tightened her grip on the hem of her cloak as Elias led her through the towering gates. The air here was different—heavy, suffocating, and laced with an unspoken promise of despair.
Inside, the walls seemed to stretch endlessly, the faint glow of torches barely illuminating the high arches above.
The flickering light played tricks on the stone, casting shifting shadows that danced like specters. Every step echoed hollowly, amplifying Selene's unease.
Elias stopped abruptly at the base of a grand staircase, where a woman stood waiting. She was tall and severe, her posture rigid yet graceful. Her eyes, an unnatural shade of crimson with flecks of amber, swept over Selene with calculated precision.
"This is the headmaid," Elias said, his voice curt. "She'll take care of her for now."
The headmaid tilted her head slightly. "Who is she, lord Elias?" she asked, her tone cold yet not unkind.
Elias shrugged, his face betraying no emotion. "A human," he said simply. "His Majesty purchased her. I don't know why he did that, thats so unlikely of him." He turned to leave, his cloak sweeping behind him. "For now, give her food and a bed. That's all."
"His Majesty is not paying me for all of this extra work..." he murmured as he went away.
The headmaid's gaze lingered on Selene for a moment longer before she spoke again. "Follow me." Her voice was steady, with a softness that belied her stern appearance.
As they walked, Selene studied her silently. The headmaid's pale complexion was flawless, her features sharp and elegant. There was something different about her, something almost human. It wasn't until she spoke again that Selene understood.
"You're wondering what I am," the headmaid said without looking back.
Selene stiffened, unsure how to respond.
"I'm a half-blood," the woman continued, her tone matter-of-fact. "A human who survived the process of becoming a vampire." She glanced over her shoulder, her crimson eyes softening ever so slightly. "Not many of us do."
Selene didn't know what to say. She had heard stories of half-bloods—vampires who retained fragments of their humanity—but she had never met one before.
They descended deeper into the citadel, the air growing colder with every step. The halls were lined with ancient tapestries and sculptures, their details illuminated by the soft glow of candelabras. Despite the chilling atmosphere, there was an undeniable beauty to the place, as if the darkness itself had been meticulously crafted.
"It is terrifyingly beautiful," Selene murmured under her breath.
The headmaid's lips twitched, though she said nothing.
Finally, they reached a small wooden door at the end of a narrow corridor. The headmaid pushed it open, revealing a modest room lit by a single candle. Two women sat inside, their conversation halting as the door creaked open.
"These are Mira and Elira," the headmaid said, gesturing to them. "They're human, like you. You'll be sharing this chamber with them."
Mira, a petite woman with warm brown eyes and dark curls, smiled hesitantly. "Hello," she said softly, her voice gentle.
Elira, taller and more stoic, nodded in acknowledgment. Her icy blue eyes flicked over Selene appraisingly, but she remained silent.
The headmaid placed a bundle of bread and a folded dress on the small cot in the corner of the room. "Eat. Rest. Tomorrow, you'll begin your duties."
As the door closed behind her, Mira scooted closer to Selene, her smile growing warmer. "Don't worry," she said. "It's not as bad as it seems."
Selene wasn't sure if she believed her, but she nodded anyway, clutching the bread in her trembling hands. Loaf like this are a luxury and she learned this after surviving those days at black market.
The flickering candlelight cast long shadows across the room, and though she was surrounded by strangers, Selene couldn't shake the feeling that she was utterly alone. The citadel was as cold as it was beautiful, and every inch of it seemed to whisper a single truth: you don't belong here.
Mira's soft voice broke the silence, pulling Selene from her spiraling thoughts. "It's your first night here, isn't it?" she asked gently.
Selene nodded, unsure of how much she should say. "Yes," she murmured. "I…I don't know what..."
Mira's smile faltered for a moment, a flicker of unease crossing her face before she quickly masked it. "It's normal to feel that way," she said, her tone carefully neutral. "We all did at first. But you'll learn."
Elira, who had been silently observing from her spot on the opposite cot, finally spoke. Her voice was low and steady, carrying a weight that Mira's words lacked. "Learn quickly," she said. "Mistakes here don't go unnoticed."
Selene's stomach tightened at the warning, and she cast a nervous glance at the door, as if expecting someone to burst through at any moment.
Mira shot Elira a sharp look. "Don't scare her," she chided. Turning back to Selene, she reached out and placed a reassuring hand on her arm. "It's not all bad. The headmaid is fair, and she doesn't tolerate cruelty toward us until you're not at fault and as long as you do what's expected, you'll be fine."
Selene wanted to believe her, but the memory of Lucien Dravenhart's cold, piercing gaze was still fresh in her mind. "And if I don't?" she asked softly.
Elira's expression darkened, but it was Mira who answered, her voice barely above a whisper. "Then pray he doesn't notice."
The room fell silent, the weight of Mira's words pressing down on all of them. Selene glanced around, taking in the modest furnishings—the simple cots, the rough wooden table, the single, cracked mirror hanging on the wall.
It was a far cry from the grand halls she had walked through earlier, but it was a haven compared to the unknown horrors that lurked elsewhere in the citadel.
"Where are you from?" Mira asked, breaking the silence once again.
Selene hesitated before answering. "A small village," she said. "Far from here. My family…" She trailed off, the words catching in her throat.
Mira nodded in understanding. "Most of us came from small places," she said. "It's easier for them to take us from there. Less resistance."
Selene's heart sank at the implication. "And you?" she asked, her voice shaky.
Mira exchanged a glance with Elira, who gave a small, almost imperceptible shrug. "I was taken when I was twelve," Mira said softly. "Elira came a few years later. We've been here ever since."
"How…how do you survive it?" Selene asked, her voice trembling.
Elira leaned forward, her piercing blue eyes locking onto Selene's. "By remembering that no matter how dark it gets, the sun will rise again. Even here."
The words were oddly comforting, though Selene wasn't sure if she believed them. She nodded slowly, clutching the bread tighter in her hands.
"You should eat," Mira said, gesturing to the bundle. "And rest. Tomorrow will be…busy."
Selene nodded again, though her appetite had long since vanished. She forced herself to take a bite, the stale bread scraping against her throat as she swallowed. Mira and Elira returned to their quiet conversation, leaving Selene to her thoughts.
As the candle burned lower, casting flickering shadows across the walls, Selene lay down on the cot, her body heavy with exhaustion but her mind refusing to rest. The citadel was a place of nightmares, but somewhere deep inside, a tiny ember of defiance burned.
She didn't know what her future held, but she knew one thing for certain: she would not break, she will survive this but for whom?
Selene awoke to the sound of heavy footsteps echoing through the corridor. Her eyes flew open, and for a moment, she forgot where she was.
The plain wooden ceiling above her and the coarse blanket draped over her body brought the memories flooding back. The citadel. Lucien. The headmaid.
The footsteps grew louder, stopping just outside the door. A sharp knock followed, and then the headmaid's voice cut through the air.
"Up. All of you. It's time to begin."
Mira and Elira were already stirring. Mira stretched, her movements quick and practiced, while Elira sat up slowly, her sharp eyes scanning the room as though assessing their readiness.
"Get dressed," Elira said, her tone brisk. She tossed Selene a plain gray dress similar to the ones she and Mira wore. "You don't want to be late on your first day."
Selene nodded, fumbling with the rough fabric as she changed. The dress was simple, almost shapeless, but functional. It was a stark reminder of her new status—a servant, nothing more.
The headmaid was waiting for them outside, her expression as stern as ever. "Follow me," she said, turning sharply on her heel.
The group moved quickly, Selene struggling to keep up as they wound through the labyrinthine corridors of the citadel.
The air was colder now, biting at her skin even through the thick stone walls. She caught glimpses of other servants hurrying about, their faces pale and expressionless as they avoided making eye contact.
The headmaid finally stopped in a vast, high-ceilinged hall that seemed to stretch on forever. Massive chandeliers hung above, their candles casting eerie patterns across the polished stone floor. Servants moved silently, setting long tables with precision. The grandeur of the room only heightened Selene's unease.
"This is the dining hall," the headmaid said, her voice echoing slightly in the cavernous space. "It's where the nobles and other high-ranking members of the court dine. Your first task is to learn how to serve."
Selene's stomach clenched at the thought. Serve them? The vampires who had stolen her freedom?
The headmaid's sharp eyes landed on her, as if sensing her hesitation. "You'll do as you're told, or you won't last long here," she said, her tone leaving no room for argument.
Mira and Elira moved to their stations with practiced ease, leaving Selene standing awkwardly in the center of the hall. The headmaid gestured for her to follow and led her to the side of the room, where a line of other human servants stood, their heads bowed.
"Watch and learn," the headmaid instructed.
Selene's heart pounded as she observed the others. Their movements were precise, almost mechanical, as they placed platters of food on the tables and refilled goblets with what she could only assume was blood. Her stomach turned, but she forced herself to remain still.
"Selene," the headmaid called, her voice snapping Selene out of her daze. "Come here."
She obeyed, her steps hesitant as she approached the table. The headmaid handed her a heavy silver tray laden with goblets.
"Take this to the far table," she instructed. "And remember: do not speak unless spoken to. Do not look any of them in the eye."
Selene swallowed hard, nodding as she took the tray. Her arms trembled under its weight, but she forced herself to move forward, each step feeling like a lifetime.
As she neared the table, she could feel their eyes on her. The nobles—vampires, all of them—watched her with an intensity that made her skin crawl. She kept her gaze fixed on the table, placing the goblets down as quickly and carefully as she could.
"New, aren't you?" a voice drawled, low and menacing.
Selene froze. She didn't dare look up, but the speaker's presence was palpable—a dark, oppressive energy that seemed to fill the air around her.
"She is," another voice answered, smooth and cold. "His Majesty purchased her."
The mention of Lucien sent a chill down to everyone's spine including selene. She kept her head down, willing herself to disappear.
"That's enough," Lord Elias voice cut through the tension, sharp and commanding. "She's here to work, not entertain. Leave."
The nobles chuckled darkly but said no more. Selene hurried back to the side of the room, her heart pounding so loudly she was sure everyone could hear it.
"Good," the headmaid said quietly as Selene returned. "You did well. Now, keep it up."
Selene nodded, though her legs felt like jelly. The day stretched on, each task blending into the next, until she finally found herself back in the servant's chamber that night, exhausted and shaken.
Mira handed her a cup of water and a small piece of bread. "You survived," she said with a small smile.
Selene nodded, her hands trembling as she accepted the food. The weight of the day settled over her like a heavy blanket, but beneath it all, that tiny ember of defiance still burned.
She had survived her first day. She would survive the next. And one day, somehow, she would find a way to escape this cold, unyielding citadel.
That night, Selene lay on the hard cot, her body aching from the day's labor. The faint glow of a single candle flickered on the rough walls of the servant's chamber, casting restless shadows that seemed to mirror her thoughts.
Mira had already fallen asleep, her soft breaths steady and calm, while Elira lay with her back to them, silent as ever.
Selene stared at the ceiling, replaying the events of the day in her mind. The nobles' chilling laughter, the way their eyes followed her every movement, and the weight of their words—they clung to her like a shroud. But it was Lucien's name, spoken so casually, that haunted her the most.
What did he intend for her?
The question was a dark cloud over her mind, one she couldn't chase away no matter how hard she tried. She had been purchased, reduced to an object, and yet she didn't even know why.
The door creaked suddenly, pulling her from her thoughts. She sat up quickly, her heart racing as a shadow appeared in the doorway.
It was the...
•••