'He knows. He knows. He knows.'
Panic clawed up my throat, and my lungs refused to work.
'I can't breathe…'
"M…y…m…"
I tore my eyes from his and forced the words out, my voice barely above a whisper. "The… the food, my Lord."
"I see."
Without another word, he retreated, disappearing back into the dark recesses of the room.
"Carry on, then," his words trailed to meet me from where I stood.
'He didn't notice?'
My numb legs took hesitant steps forward.
As I slowly started to adjust to the dark, my eyes honed in on him. I stilled. Lord Fashire's frame lounged on a divan in a secluded corner, his gaze tracking my every move.
"Is there something wrong with your eyes?"
"I—I am very sorry, my Lord!" I said a little too loud before wincing at the high pitch of my voice.
I turned quickly, forcing myself to focus on the room. I had to get this done with and away from here. I should be more worried about his discovering my true identity than being concerned about his presence!
Muffled sobs drew my attention to another corner of the chamber and my heart sank.
A boy huddled there, no older than seven. Tear-streaked face, swollen eyes, and quaking shoulders. Mucus streamed down his nose and his quivering mouth was clamped shut. His new overalls hung loose on his small frame.
My eyes stung.
I moved towards him, but he shrank back with each step I took. To him, I was one of them. A monster. His eyes held no hatred. That was the worst part.
'How can he do this? This is a child!'
The air dripped with Lord Fashire's disdain. "It seems a certain mongrel isn't afraid of death."
My heart thundered as his chilling words echoed within the chamber. I jolted back to my senses and lowered the tray onto the low table beside the trembling boy.
'Get to work. Get to work!' I quickly told myself.
Distraction meant death.
Placing the heavy tray down brought a mix of agony and relief to my aching arms, even though they still shook as I lifted the metal lid to reveal four steaming dishes. Their aroma drifted upward, but my dry mouth remained stubbornly shut. I gripped the tray tightly, preparing to lower it even further to the boy's level, hoping that—no matter how scared he was—he would choose the dish that appealed to him most.
It was the utmost kindness I could offer him at this moment.
"I do not like repeating myself, servant. Put that tray back. Give the boy a plate," his voice cut through the darkness.
"Yes, my Lord," my voice rasped and I hurried to obey. I chose the plate of whole chicken, still warm, and set the plate on the floor before the boy. He recoiled, whimpering.
"Eat," Lord Fashire's command cracked like a whip.
Both the boy and I flinched. And for a sudden moment, the driving force of his tone almost compelled me to eat too.
The boy lunged at the dish and tore into the chicken with feral hunger. Grease streaked his face and his tiny hands trembled as he devoured each mouthful of the soft meat. I clasped my hands together, stomach twisting as I watched the boy eat.
'This is wrong. So wrong.'
What did Lord Fashire want with a child? I had never witnessed or heard about him bringing in children before, nor did any of the vampires in this castle keep children as pets. They couldn't provide the sustenance or amount of blood vampires needed, so, why was he here?
The thought burned within my chest. I swallowed it down. There was nothing I could do to change the situation. Nothing at all.
I served him another plate, and he emptied it too. When I reached for the third, his eyes lifted briefly to mine. They were empty.
My stomach rolled and I looked away.
'Clean up. Just clean up and leave.'
The minutes passed in a blur, my body operating as my mind shut down. I had served him another plate and cleaned up the area.
All without looking at the boy.
Once I was done, I excused myself from Lord Fashire's chambers with a small bow, eager to escape the oppressive atmosphere.
His silence pressed heavier than words and his intense eyes never left me as I walked out of the chamber.
The doors closed behind me and a sudden burst of energy surged through my veins.
I ran, sprinting past the silent hallways, through the expansive hall, and out Lord Fashire's wing.
The doors shut behind me with a finality that made my knees give way. I collapsed to the floor, clutching the covered tray. My chest heaved as I gulped in mouthfuls of warm air.
A shadow fell over me.
"Becca?" I whispered.
"Hiln…" her voice trembled.
I soon noticed her fidgeting with her fingers. Her face was twisted with worry. "I was so scared, Hiln. What took you so long?"
I slowly placed the tray on the floor beside me. "I don't understand. What do you—"
"I have been waiting… for a long time now. I—I thought…" She sighed. Her eyes darted to her cart behind her before returning to me. "I was even starting to think something might have… happened to you."
I shook my head. "I am confused. What—"
A sudden realisation made the rest of my words die in my throat.
Her cart. Nearly all the plates were empty, and previously folded towels were now arranged at the bottom row of the cart. I slowly stood up, staring at it.
Just how long had I remained in his chambers?
"I… I…" I faced Becca. "I could have sworn, I wasn't in there for that long…"
It did not make sense for Becca to have served all the pets while I only served one.
"No… that's impossible," I murmured.
I was certain I hadn't wasted that much time standing idly by. He was already irritated enough. And the boy had eaten quickly.
"You know…" I touched Becca's arm, whispering more to myself than to her. "Let's not think too much of it. I am just… glad this is over."
Lord Fashire didn't detain me or interrogate me or hold me hostage.
So everything was fine.
Becca nodded quickly, almost too quickly. She tucked one of her blonde curls behind her ear and lifted my tray from the floor.
"Thank you," I murmured as she went to add it to her cart.
Becca looked at me and offered a faint smile.
Together, we left the Lords' wings. But no matter how much I tried to push my worries aside, I had a strange foreboding sensation that just wouldn't leave me.
Just how long had I spent in Lord Fashire's chamber?
\-\-\
The following day, Becca went to Lord Fashire's wing while I served the other Lords. As luck would have it, most of them were absent, so I only found myself in the company of their pets instead.
Once I was done, I waited outside for Becca.
Then I waited… and waited some more.
Time stretched endlessly, and I suddenly felt uneasy. She was also taking a long time serving him alone.
When Becca finally emerged, my relief died instantly.
Her face was drained of colour, a stark contrast to her usual vibrance.
It terrified me.
"Becca, are you all right?"
Her startled eyes swept to me as if just realising I was there. She attempted a smile, but her quivering lips betrayed her true state.
I approached her. "Becca? You look…"
She covered her mouth and shook her head, pain flashing across her face. Then she burst past me, running without a word.
"Becca!" I rushed after her, pushing my cart. "What happened in there? Is something wrong?"
Desperation seeped into my shaky voice.
This made no sense. She had served him before, but she seemed so agitated. Even more than I was yesterday.
She squeezed her eyes shut and whispered, "I don't want to speak of it. I'm truly sorry, Hiln."
She dropped her tray onto my cart and wheeled it away from my grasp without another word.
My chest grew heavy with fear and guilt.
It was my fault. She had gone to serve him because of me.
I had assumed she would be fine since she had served him before, but it seemed I had been sorely mistaken.
The thought of that boy clawed at my mind. Had Lord Fashire done something horrific to him while Becca was still in there?
\-\-\
We had the rest of the day off. And a few hours later, we were at the nearest village, seated on the front porch of Becca's favourite pastry shop.
I smiled at Becca and she returned it, only for her to avert her eyes right after.
The workers arrived with Becca's cupcakes, and her face softened with gratitude.
I was glad I brought her here.
She dug into the snack with such joy and I turned to my cupcakes.
"Hiln?" Becca broke the silence.
"Hmm?" I blinked mid-bite, trying to respond.
"What happened when you... went to Lord Fashire's chamber yesterday?"
My fingers tightened around the foil wrapper. "Hmm... Nothing happened… really," I replied, my voice muffled by the last piece in my mouth. I swallowed it.
"I simply delivered the food and took the plates once he was done. I was a little slow, but…" Unease settled low in my stomach.
Her gaze searched my face as if trying to measure something unsaid.
Unable to contain the silence any longer, I asked, "Did he do something to the boy or to you?"
She shook her head. "He didn't do anything to us… It—it is not myself I am worried about."
For a long moment, a soft breeze swept through the shade, brushing aside Becca's short blonde curls.
"What do you mean?" I asked.
"Hiln." Her voice carried a devastating weight I had never heard before. "Lord Fashire asked of you."