The grand hall of Castle Dimitrescu glistened under the flickering light of golden chandeliers, yet a simmering annoyance prickled beneath my composed exterior. Mother Miranda had made her decree. Ethan Winters—the insolent little man who dared set foot in our sacred lands—had been handed to that insufferable brute, Heisenberg.
I paced the length of my private chambers, my heels clicking sharply against the marble floor. The rich scent of burning firewood filled the room, but it did little to temper my irritation.
"Mother Miranda's favoritism knows no bounds," I hissed, gripping the stem of my wine glass. My daughters, lounging near the hearth, exchanged knowing smirks.
"Perhaps Mother thinks the mutt is best suited for the task," Cassandra mused, lazily twirling her sickle.
"Or maybe she just enjoys watching you squirm, Mother," Bela added, her voice thick with dry amusement.
I shot them both a glare sharp enough to silence their teasing. My daughters meant well, but even they failed to understand the insult. Miranda knew I could have dispatched the man with ease, yet she handed the task to that chainsmoking imbecile.
I drained the glass in one smooth motion and set it down, the sound of crystal against marble punctuating my thoughts.
"Do not mistake my restraint for helplessness," I said, my tone icy. "Ethan Winters will make his way here. That much is certain. And when he does, I will deal with him myself."
Daniela, ever the impulsive one, brightened at the prospect. "Can I play with him first, Mother? I promise not to break him… too much."
"You'll wait until I say otherwise," I snapped, though a faint smirk touched my lips. "For now, the three of you will patrol the castle. I don't want any more surprises."
The girls vanished in a flurry of blackened insects, leaving me alone with my thoughts.
I turned my gaze to the large window overlooking the village. Snow swirled in heavy flurries, shrouding the distant lights below. The castle's imposing silhouette stretched across the landscape, a reminder of my power, my legacy.
But beneath the surface, there was a strange unease—a crack in the veneer of control I so carefully maintained.
Miranda's obsession with this "child" was one thing. Ethan Winters' survival against countless odds was another.
And now…a faint sound drifted through the corridors, snapping me from my thoughts.
A whisper.
No, a presence.
Something—or someone—had entered my castle.
I turned toward the door, my senses sharpening. The air grew still, heavy with anticipation. A faint rustling sound, like the flutter of wings, echoed through the hallways.
Not one of my daughters.
I smiled slowly, a predator savoring the scent of prey.
"Well," I murmured, smoothing my dress. "It seems tonight won't be so dull after all."
~~~
The inside of the castle seemed endless, its corridors countless and winding, each room a lavish display of wealth and dark history. I couldn't help but marvel at the sheer opulence that bled from the very walls—the tapestries, the gilded frames, the towering statues—but there was something unsettling about it all. It felt too… perfect, as if it was meant to mask something darker beneath.
The hallways were expansive, a maze of shadows and flickering candlelight. Ravenna's feathers brushed against my neck as she stirred nervously. I reached up instinctively, stilling her with a gentle hand. "Shh," I murmured, my voice low and steady. The tension in the air was palpable, like something ancient and regal had marked this place, leaving behind an imprint I could feel beneath my skin.
Moving silently, I stepped into the darkest part of the hallway, the cool marble beneath my boots offering no sound. Every flicker of light felt like a warning, as if the very architecture of this castle was waiting for me to make a mistake. My every instinct screamed to tread carefully. Yet, there was a part of me that thrived in this danger—revelled in it, almost. The unease gnawing at the back of my mind kept me sharp, kept me alert.
The hallway opened into a grand foyer. The staircase ahead rose like a monument, its crimson carpet stark against the gleaming white marble floor. The walls were lined with portraits of long-dead figures, their eyes dark and haunting, tracking my every movement. It was unnerving, their still gazes piercing through me, but I kept moving forward, eyes narrowing in silent defiance. This castle was not my domain, but I would not be intimidated by its grandiosity.
The tapestries hanging from the ceiling seemed almost alive, flowing with a hidden current. Whoever lived here reveled in excess—perhaps too much. There was beauty here, but it was the beauty of decadence, of something twisted beneath the surface. My eyes lingered on the mirrors as I passed, catching sight of my reflection. The face staring back at me was unfamiliar, as though it belonged to someone else. The pale skin, the dark eyes, the raven-black hair—it didn't feel like mine. But there was nothing I could do to change it.
A sound—the faintest echo of footsteps—brought me back to the present. My heartbeat quickened, but I forced myself to calm. There was no room for panic here, no room for mistakes. Dropping into a crouch, I melded into the shadows, still as the marble around me. My breath slowed, every sound heightened, every movement calculated. The footsteps grew closer, but I remained unseen, my presence nothing more than a whisper in the dark.
A figure passed, and I barely registered the flash of her silhouette before I slipped into another shadow, reappearing further down the corridor. The air seemed thicker here, the pressure building as I strained to hear the faint voices ahead. One stood out—a feminine voice, sharp and commanding, echoing down the hallway. "There's a trail. They're close."
My heart leapt in my chest—not from fear, but from confusion. A trail? I couldn't see anything, no marks, no footprints that would give me away. But Ravenna stirred nervously, and my gaze snapped down. A few of her feathers, still damp from the melted snow, had left small, almost imperceptible droplets of water on the stone floor. My heart sank.
"Careless of us," I muttered under my breath, the faintest trace of frustration lacing my words. I ran a finger gently along her delicate feathers, offering a silent apology before disappearing back into the shadows.
The castle was proving more complicated than I'd expected.
I moved once more, reappearing in a new room—this time, a small, dimly lit chamber. I placed Ravenna gently on a nearby table, her tiny body looking fragile in the vast, empty space. I took a moment to examine her wing, relieved to find that, while it looked bad, it would heal on its own. Still, I wrapped her in a soft cloth I found in the corner of the room, doing my best to comfort her.
I chuckled at her displeased chirp as I unwrapped her, feeling the briefest flicker of warmth in my chest before placing her back on my shoulder. The change of clothes had been a necessity; the thin layers I'd worn before were useless in this place. I'd found a set of layered leather armor, far more practical, though it felt foreign on my skin. The bones it had once belonged to felt distant, their purpose now something else entirely.
Turning toward the mirror, I took in my appearance—hooded cloak now donned, the skull mask from the bones resting in my hands. The final touch. I allowed myself a quiet laugh, my fingers brushing the skull's edges before lifting it to my face, settling it into place. Whoever had lived here, whoever had walked these halls, had left their mark in every corner. But I wasn't interested in their past. Only mine. Only the secrets I was here to uncover.