Adelade

I dreamed of him again, but this time he stood so close to me that the smell of horses and wood drifted through my nose. I wanted to touch him, to run my fingers over his whole body but instead I felt compelled to stare at him silently, unmoving.

We stood at the edge of the water. He was staring out over the landscape, watching the stillness of the reflection of the moon on the water. He didn’t recognize my presence, and the sudden desire to grip his shirt and shake him was so strong that I had to pull on my skirt to keep me from touching him. Why wouldn’t he look at me? Couldn’t he see me? I was here. Right in front of him. My heart threatened to burst from my chest and I shook with my desire. I cried out, willing him to look at me, to notice me.

Then, he did. He turned towards me and, pulling me close, he leaned his head on mine and sighed. He ran his hand through my hair, caressing it softly. I leaned into him, my desire seeping through my whole body, and I shivered as the wind blew through my dress, making it float around me.

My thoughts were then being pulled from me and I was revealing my innermost thoughts to him. I gasped, as my personal life was being ripped from me. My grief for the death of my father and the difficulty of my tasks to clean such a large household, his household, was revealed to him. I felt his anger spark, and I wondered what made him so angry. He dug deeper, and he knew of my love for Lula and Sophie, for their kindness knew no bounds, and I tried to pull away because he was getting closer to my secret.

Sensing my retreat, he dug into me deeper, willing my mind and body to answer him. And then he was on it; he’d found my secret spot, the one I hid from everyone. He knew it was there and he wanted it.

I resisted; I wouldn’t give it to him, he couldn’t have it. If he knew my desire for him, I held no doubts that he would throw me from his house. I buried it so deep into my heart that he would never find it.

He could never know my truth.

And then the water stirred and a woman stepped out of it. Her hair was long and dark but I couldn’t see her face. She held her hand out, calling his name, and he stepped away from me. I reached out, but my hand only went through him as if he were an apparition.

She bade him again and he stepped into the water. He reached for her and she grasped his hand and then they disappeared under the water.

I fell to my knees in agony. I wanted to call to him, to make him come back to me, but I knew that he wouldn’t return. So I wept instead, as a wave of loneliness crashed over me, and I was alone in the stillness except for the lone crow that circled above me.

* * *

Frustrated, I stepped into the hallway the next morning, prepared to clean every inch of every chimney to work out my displeasure. If Detrand chose to ignore me, I wouldn’t wait around for him to notice me. I was done with the longing, my lust running through my veins and the constant slights that he gave me every time he saw me. I’d attempted to aid him when he was stabbed, and the crushing feeling in my chest when he sent me away was motivation to move on from this curse and to procure other circumstances.

As soon as the maid walking down the hallway saw me exit my room, she stopped, her eyes wide, and stared at me. I turned to speak to her, but she began to back away until she turned suddenly and ran away. Frowning, I moved down the hallway and through the rooms but no one was to be found.

Shrugging, I knelt at the fire in the main room and began to stir it. It would be a blessing for Lula when she arose. I added more wood, but as soon as I began to stir it, a maid rushed to me.

“Hello.” I tried to be civil.

“No, no, you are not to touch the fire.” She took the poker from me and began to stir it, shooing me out of the way. I watched her silently, rubbing my arms. When she didn’t explain herself, I sighed and turned towards the kitchen to eat breakfast.

As soon as I sat at the empty table, the scullery maid brought out my food and slammed my plate down. When I began to ask for some juice, she slipped back into the kitchen, ignoring my request. Frowning, I ate quickly, and then, exhausted from this type of behavior from the staff, I went to the kitchen. I wouldn’t normally pursue the issue, but today I felt especially horrible.

I called out for the scullery maid but she slipped out the back door and into the garden. Angry, I made to go to her but Phyllis, the main cook, emerged from her office to stand in front of me.

“You must go back into the main house.”

“Let me speak to her.” My voice was demanding. “I have done nothing to deserve this form of behavior.”

She shook her head, her face hard. “You’re not to be in my kitchen.”

I made a grunting noise deep in my throat. “I cannot change the circumstances of my mother’s death and won’t allow the staff in this house to treat me so degradingly.”

Phyllis’s face softened. “Your mother?”

I nodded, trying to hold onto my anger; I wouldn’t let her deter me.

She made a noise with her teeth, and put her hand on my shoulder. I looked into her eyes; they were gentle, but I set my mouth, waiting for her response.

“Child, this has nothing to do with your mother. The maid is half afraid of you, half jealous. Just let her be for the time being.”

“It doesn’t have to do with my mother? I’m so confused.”

She laughed softly, and I felt myself blush. “No child.”

“Then why do they treat me so? I’m merely trying to work as payment for my father’s debt.”

Her laugh was louder now and the sound of it lifted my spirits, even though I was deeply confused. “It’s because the Master demands it.”

I hissed. “Don’t poke fun.”

Her laughter ceased, but she pushed me towards the door of the kitchen. “I speak the truth. You are to be served upon, hand and foot.”

“How could I…? Why would he…?” I stared at her, my mouth open, unsure how or why he would require such a thing.

She shrugged. “I have no understanding of the Master’s ways. I only know what I’m told.” She looked at me sternly, and shook her finger. “And you aren’t allowed to touch the chimneys or anything else, or the Master will reprimand the staff, eh?”

I took her meaning, and swallowed hard. She then touched my cheek softly and disappeared back into the kitchen.

* * *

I spent the morning sitting on the couch staring at the now dwindling fire. Lula, and especially Sophie, would not wake for some hours and I knew not what to do with myself. My hands fidgeted with my dress, and I longed for company, or a little heat, at least. However, my fear for the treatment of the staff outweighed my desire to warm myself. I attempted to call to them, but my voice came out a small peep, and I couldn’t force myself to make my wishes known. So I gathered my coat and left the house.

I spent the day searching the streets for any opportunity to find myself an occupation. I studied the way the boys worked on the docks, where I once felt at home. I approached the foreman and requested work, but he shook his head sadly, and explained that there was already a shortage of work and there were several men who had families to feed who would come first.

I agreed readily and headed towards town. Shop after shop, I received rejections of my offer to help. Some were abrupt brush-offs, with comments regarding my feminine nature, and other shops already had plenty of help from their own family members.

Dejected, I moved towards the street that held the widows because I’d managed to procure some discarded food for them. Many of them were absent, but I passed out what I could until I only had some meager strips of bread left. I moved towards the end of the road where a lone widow sat.

As I drew nearer, an intense feeling of warning washed over my body and my feet began to drag. My hands drooped, and I almost dropped the bread, but I pushed myself forward, intent on delivering this last morsel to the woman before me. Her body was so emaciated that her skin stretched over her face in such a strange sort of deformity that even the placement of one of her eyes was higher than the other.

As I approached, she smiled at me, and her blackened front tooth took up the whole of her mouth. It lay slightly slanted, and I attempted not to draw my eyes to it, so I stared into her dark eyes which made me shiver.

She grabbed the bread I handed to her and shoved it into her mouth. My feeling of unease intensified now that I was only a moment’s glance from her. I turned to flee but her hand whipped out, pulling the edge of my dress.

“My sister.”

I pulled away, deathly afraid now, and had no care if my dress ripped. Instead, she managed to draw me closer. I could hear the way her breath escaped from her mouth in a harsh whistle, “My sister, she is missing. Where is she?”

I gripped her hand, trying to wrestle my dress from her deathly grasp, and cried out. “I’m sure I have no idea.”

“You have the mark of darkness, that hides in the shadows of your face. You know where she is.”

My mouth dropped open, afraid of what she might see. I crossed myself, praying that she was wrong, and moved to kick her so that I could be free from her.

“She has a daughter, a baby, who cries into the night for her.”

At this I was still, for I understood all too well the longing for a missing mother I leaned down. “What happened to her?”

“It was the strigoi. They’ve taken her.”

At the mention of the word strigoi, which was never spoken unless you were very familiar with them and unafraid of the consequences, my heart began to beat faster.

“How do you know? What has she to do with them?”

The woman clasped my shirt and drew me in closer. Her breath washed over me and it reeked of death and horror. I coughed, trying to dispel it.

“She went to them. I warned her that she wouldn’t return, but she didn’t listen. She went to them in the day, to that horrible house, and never returned.” She shook me roughly and bits of moist bread sprayed my face as she spoke again. “I warned her that he would kill her. He attempts to smile and tempt you with his charms, but the ugliness of his face reveals his true thoughts, the darkness that resides in him.”

Horror washed over me and I yanked myself out of her grasp and ran away, afraid for my very life. I rushed through the streets, trying to dispel the evil feeling that wouldn’t leave me. My mind sifted through the strigoi known by me, trying to determine who could be the killer. As I neared the house, I determined to investigate the strigoi with whom I associated more closely.