She gently closed the door behind her, the satisfying click of the mechanism easing her worries. She leaned against the door with a sigh. She was home. She was safe.
Her fingers traced the line where the door met the frame, wondering if the brisk evening air would follow her in. She pulled her hand back, finding the seam practically gone. It was a single piece of wood; healed, like a wound. Part of her knew it wouldn’t open again.
What a comforting thought.
She took a deep breath and took her first few steps down the unfamiliar hall, wondering when she’d ever get used to the place. Lamps were few and far between, islands of light in a sea of shadow. Her pace quickened.
A long mirror hung opposite the window, moonlight and flames dancing across it brightly enough to give her a glimpse of her reflection. Her breath held in her throat.
Then she smiled. Her second sigh in as many minutes was a happier one. The trip hadn’t sullied her uniform at all! She smoothed out the frills on her apron and flicked back an errant lock of hair that had ventured over her shoulder. There.
She carried the satchel further into the mansion, her steps surer in the darkened hallways. She really ought to add some more lights here and there. Bring in some warmth, liven up the place. Once she had some free time, she’d have to ask…
“Well?”
The maid stopped in her tracks. She opened her mouth, but no words would come out. Her eyes darted to and fro, still unable to see much of anything in the surrounding darkness.
The mistress stepped into the light, her silhouette almost blotting out the entire window behind her. “How was your trip into town?”
The maid’s eyes blinked and widened as surprise surged within her, then was overcome with reassuring familiarity. “Oh! Oh, thank goodness,” she said, unsure whether to scold or chuckle. “It was lovely, ma’am. Thank you!”
The mistress shifted to the side slightly. The light draped across her face, revealing a knowing smile.
The maid remained still. Was that… not enough? Was the mistress expecting more? She racked her brains. And after a moment, she heard it. No doubt the mistress had heard it too.
Her heart was beating fast. Very fast.
But she was home! She was safe! Nowhere was safer than at the mistress’s side. And yet, she couldn’t shake this overwhelming wave of stress threatening to swallow her whole. Her eyes darted around the edges of the light. The right words dangled frustratingly out of reach.
“Were people talking about me?”
There was a calm, as terrifying as it was liberating. She nodded. The mistress knew. The mistress always knew. “Y-yes ma’am,” she said, going over the events of that fateful meeting once more in her mind. The last hurried meal, the sweltering common room, the smell of alcohol, the loud voices… Bad memories. Painful memories. Ones she didn’t want to remember.
“Describe them to me,” the mistress said as she walked over to one of her favorite upholstered chairs, snapping her fingers as she sat down. The fireplace came alight, illuminating the rest of the room.
The maid took a few steps forward, just enough to rest her soles on the comforting cushion of the rug. She tried to calm herself down, willing her mind to go back to those moments it had so easily blocked out. “There were three men. Two? …Three. I think. The third one, I can’t… I couldn’t see his face.” She went on, recounting as many identifying details as she could. Enough to satisfy the mistress; hopefully enough to help.
“Thank you, dear,” the mistress said, finally breaking eye contact. Then her gaze returned, softened. “Now what on earth could they have said to make you worry so?”
Words had become difficult again. “They… they said terrible things about this place. About you,” the maid said as she clutched her satchel. “They… they hired a hunter. Someone who said he could… Said he could…”
There came an audible rattling. Her hands were trembling so much that the leather bag in her hands was shaking along with them.
“Hush, dear, it’s okay,” the mistress said. “Come here.” She patted the front of her chair.
The maid wasted no time. In a moment she was kneeling on the plush rug, holding back tears.
“There, there,” the mistress whispered with a gentle touch on the shoulder. “You’re safe now, there’s no need to worry.”
“He’s on his way here,” the maid said, her voice shaking. “He might already be here. He’s… he’s dangerous. The stories they told about him! What if he finds you? What if he—”
“There’s no need to worry,” the mistress repeated, more firmly this time.
The maid looked up. “Ma’am?”
“I can defend myself, you know.” The mistress looked down into her eyes, only this time there was something… more to her gaze. Something that paired well with the dancing flames of the fireplace. “Now, you’re still new, but I’ve lived here a considerable amount of time. I know this place; I keep it safe, and it keeps me safe.”
“And… and me?”
The mistress laughed. “And you as well,” she replied, gently tapping the tip of the maid’s nose with her finger in an uncharacteristic fit of playfulness.
The maid couldn’t help but laugh along, awash with relief. “I’m so glad,” she said after a moment, quietly. “I was so scared.”
“This manor is a place of safety. And isn’t that what everyone wants, in the end?” The mistress gently traced her hand down the maid’s cheek, to her chin. Lifting it up, so they could see eye to eye. “The need to be safe burns deep within the heart of every living thing. These halls have a way of reaching in, and bringing it to the forefront.” She smiled. “In whatever form that takes.”
By that point, words had lost their meaning to the maid.
All that mattered was the two of them, looking into each other.
Nothing existed beyond those eyes.
Had it been for a second, a year?
Eternity?
She couldn’t tell.
She didn’t care.
If this was all that life would ever hold, it would be more than enough.
“Tea?”
The maid gasped as if she’d been holding her breath. She trembled, off-balance for a moment, coming to a lean against the leg of the upholstered chair until she could get a semblance of her bearings back. She inhaled. Exhaled. Waited for her heart to beat at a recognizable rhythm again.
Even her deepest daydream had never even reached these depths.
Then it hit her. The mistress had made a request. She looked back up, feeling her cheeks burning. “Ah, ma’am, yes, of course,” she said, practically tripping over the words. The maid stood up right away, doing her best to keep her balance as the room threatened to go topsy-turvy. She gave a quick curtsy before heading off down the hall, her feet already knowing the way. “I’ll go put the kettle on, ma’am!”
“Thank you dear,” the mistress said as she watched the maid hurry off. She leaned back into her chair, smirking despite herself.
“Ah, ma’am?” the maid asked after a moment, stopping at the edge of the light.
“What is it, dear?”
“Do you think… Do you think he’ll come?”
The mistress’s laugh was as warm as the fire. She knew. “You’re a part of this place now, dear. There’s nothing he can do to hurt you.”
The maid beamed. “Thank you, ma’am. That means a lot.” She adjusted her outfit once more, tightened her apron, and stepped out of sight.
The mistress watched her become one with the darkness. She picked up the maid’s discarded leather satchel, reached inside, and threw the contents into the fireplace. Sharpened or not, all wood burned just the same.
She leaned back and drank in the sounds of the manor, its every creak and howl a familiar blanket to wrap herself in—now made even better by melodic hums, and the bubbling of a kettle.
— I wrote this in a sudden burst of inspiration a couple years ago on my patreon and it's stuck in my mind ever since. given the posts on lady dracula, I figured I'd bring this one back on here ^^
Read more of my writing on Patreon!
☆ wanna get early access & free books/stories? become a patron! ☆
