Chapter Text
Cold seeped into the framework of a small farmer’s house that sat nestled in the outskirts of an obscure Romanian village. Crisp air bit at the skin of the family that sat gathered around a well-aged, worn table. Despite their threadbare clothes, winter was able to caress their skin with a chill. Silence blanketed them as dishes were passed back and forth. Only the sounds of hunger filled the room once everyone had settled. No one dared to make eye contact when someone had to pass a plate over the vacant chair. An onlooker would have thought this strange, here sat a large family around a table too small. And they waste space with an empty chair. Perhaps if the reason for the unoccupied spot was different, then they would utilise the extra space.
Knuckles against wood interrupted the dinner, snagging everyone’s attention. Another knock. The mother shot a look at her husband. A third knock, this time more persistent. The woman’s eyes had a look of dampened hope in them. Her husband sent a fleeting glance at their children before standing up and making the short walk over to the door whilst his family sat with bated breath. He prepped himself for disappointment, even if a small part in the back of his brain shared the same hope as his wife. As he turned the door handle whilst he felt chains of dread tug at him. His very nature, shaped by his life, meant he was resilient. Not out of moral goodness, but rather out of force. If he wasn’t as hardy as he was, he would never have survived in the world. A gust of bone chilling cold rushed into the house as the door was opened.
~
The castle’s layout was still somewhat foreign to the young woman. But that was out with her control, such a large building meant there was many a wrong turn to be made. And a month was far too short to learn the veins of the castle. The first week was easy to keep track of, the second blurred into the third, and the fourth week was upon the young maid before she knew it. It was when y/n was making her way to her shared bedroom in the servants’ quarter when the head of staff stopped her to press a plain envelope into her hands. The only writing on the paper was her name, in cursive. The writer’s hand had a sharp flick to their penwork. It was fitting for the head of staff. She was a sour old woman. Short tempered but not unkind. The maid went to sit on her bed and open the envelope. A soft tired smile set on her lips. First month wages felt good in her hands.
Every Tuesday the servants of the castle had the opportunity to send letters off to whoever was in their life. A page boy would stand just outside the courtyard gates to meet a servant. There, letters for the Countess would fall into the servant’s hand, and outgoing letters would leave Castle Dimitrescu. It was no question that any mail that left the castle was read by the castle’s inhabitants. A well-known wine business had to keep its secrets somehow. This pseudo censorship should have set off alarm bells, there were no other rival businesses in the village, and the vineyard in the town over was far too small to ever pose a threat to the Dimitrescus.
Rumours were rife in the village. A hive mindset had formed, regarding the castle. Many believed that the countess and her daughters ran the estate with barbaric cruelty. No servants were ever seen leaving the castle proper. Yet the family almost always took on new staff. It was peculiar. The whispers proved true. To an extent. Y/n wouldn’t say it was barbaric cruelty. But the countess’ daughters were not pleasant to serve, their presence was most unsettling, and they all seemed a little… unhinged in their own special way. Really quite the opposite to their mother, who was ever the image of grace and poise. From what y/n had heard. She’d never seen the Lady herself, only ever heard about her from others. The fact that employees were never seen leaving the castle’s employment was something that y/y had mulled over for the longest of time. When it came down to it, the thought of giving up her freedom really didn’t hold up well against the secure walls and the ample supply of food that the castle offered. It didn’t make much sense why so many would rather starve to death or succumb to winters cold than work in castle Dimitrescu. She had been here for a month, and no outright displays of violence were observed, threat, yeas. But they were never followed through. Y/n supposed the daughters were all talk. The only odd thigs she could comment on was the constant underlying smell of copper, that was most strong at the doors that lead to the castle under croft.
Another observation y/n made was that no other maids ever sent letters home. Did they not get homesick… The thought popped back into the forefront of her mind as she handed a sealed envelope to a butler, Aleksander, seemed he had drawn the short straw and had to venture into the harsh Romanian winter. Oh how she didn’t pity the poor boy. He glanced down at y/n’s penmanship; his eyes traced the soft delicate curves of the address she had written.
Time had caught up on y/n as she found herself reflecting on the past weeks with mild interest at how the month had practically escaped from her. She had expected it to feel slow, to drag on given the repetitive and dull nature of the work as a maid. Or, well dull-ish. A feeling of unease accompanied her at all times since her first day in the castle. She didn’t know why, maybe it was from the faintest groans of defeat and anguish that could only be heard from the entrances to the basement, or was it the unusual amount of blood that appeared around the castle? The maid would question the latter with more scrutiny, but the daughters often talked of hunting, and it didn’t take an idiot to put two and two together. The blood that frequented the castle’s floor was from their game. But must they make such a mess with it?
~
“You are. Odd,” A soft, metallic sounding voice sailed through the air down the hallway.
Y/n’s skin prickled with sweat all over as she halted her step halfway. She turned around, cleaning rag held to her chest, to face Lady Dimitrescu’s youngest, Lady Asta. The girl covered the large distance between them with too few steps for the space and took the maid’s silence as a prompt to keep talking.
“You are the only maid,” yellow eyes watched y/n, no doubt looking down on her, if Asta weren’t shorter than the maid, “who sends off. Any. Mail,”
The maid opened her mouth to respond, only to be cut off, “I watch you,”
“My deepest apologies Lady Asta,” Y/n finally spoke after regaining her wits, “but I don’t follow,”
Asta hummed a song softly, never breaking eye contact with y/n. Silence made itself at home between the two. Another moment of silence passed, and y/n felt her eyebrows pinching together ever so slightly. Her lips parted and her eyes squinted almost unnoticeably so. A muscle twitched in her face out of the rising annoyance at Asta. Followed by an involuntary huff. The maid failed horribly at masking her disdain at Asta.
‘Oh, interesting… I was beginning to think all maidens had become silent, and boring. This one is like a little lamb.’
A swarm of moths clouded y/n’s vision, her reflexed brought the rag over her mouth and nose as she shut her eyes closed. Soft giggling reached her ears through the noise of the bugs. What felt like minutes that was really only a few seconds drove on and the moths subsided. Disappearing as abruptly as they had appeared. The girl sat on the floor; knees pulled up to her chest as she tried to recover from… that. Whatever that was.
~
It wasn’t uncommon for the daughters to be seen frequenting the servants’ quarters, the trio of terror liked to… involve themselves in the affairs of the castle staff. During y/n’s first few days she interpreted this as the daughters just being friendly. She supposed they just got rather lonely in the castle. It didn’t take long for that that notion to dissolve, turns out they just liked terrorising the workers. Y/n had had a run in with Asta, and the eldest Dimitrescu daughter, Elizabeth. On her fourth day she had forgot how Elizabeth liked her tea which warranted an absurdly strong hand to grip her throat. The girl’s nails were long, and somehow sharp enough to draw blood. She recalled Asta’s words to her sister.
“Come on Elsie, don’t waste her,”
Y/n had only ever served the daughters their drinks to perfection afterwards. Call it wanting to please, or survival instincts but the maid made sure to never repeat a mistake.
Their mother, the Lady of the castle was much the opposite and the same to her daughters. She used fear in a different way, where the daughters made displays of violence to hint at what they could do, Lady Dimitrescu never needed to prove herself or her threats. She never had to make threats, her power alone sufficed. In the castle the Lady’s word wasn’t the law, it was something greater than legislation. Her will shall be done and if the sorry bastard refused, well, y/n prayed God had mercy on their soul.
~
A young boy lifted his knuckles to the door for a fourth time, before it opened just as he made contact, he looked up at a haggard looking man who almost scowled at him.
“A letter for the l/n family,” he chirped.
A grunt in response was his thanks, the boy then turned heel to continue his deliveries. Marius thumbed the envelope in his hands with disinterest. With a sharp movement of his chin, he motioned his second eldest child, oldest son, Gabriel, over. He had his father’s broad shoulders and the whiskers growing in on his face were the same wiry hair that could be seen on Marius’ face. Out of the family only two had any literacy skills. Gabriel was taken on as an apprentice in the tailors. He learnt to read and write on the job. Any and all letters that came through went straight to him. The son tore the envelope open, his body seemed to stiffen when his eyes fell upon a rather generous bundle of Lei, certainly a lot for a peasant family.
“Look,” he said as he pushed the envelope to his father, “Did you take out a loan?” he looked at his mother then to his father when she shook her head.
Cristina rose from her seat to join her husband and son. The other children exchanged glances and soft hushed whispers. Marius’ fingers leafed through the bank notes, an air of suspicion hung low in the cottage.
“Pa, look. There’s some parchment,” Gabriel piped up as the yellowed paper got pushed along with the notes, “Here, let me read it,” At that the rest of the children flooded over, the sound of chairs against the earthen packed floor was all that was heard for a few minutes until all the children crowded around their parents and Gabriel.
‘Dearest family,
This is to be one of hopefully many. Mama, papa. I am sorry to have gone behind your backs. Forgive me. The money is all yours.
I love you all,
Y/n’
“Y/n?’ Ana-Maria spoke up, she was one of the younger children. The working life had yet to break her childhood naivety, “Is she coming home now?”
“Where is she?”
“I… I don’t know,” Gabriel murmured, “She doesn’t say,” he flipped the small note over to be met by blank parchment.
Doina pried the envelope from her father’s hand. He stood tall over her with one hand holding the money. She pressed the flap down, effectively piecing the blood red wax seal together. A small gasp slipped from her mouth and all heads turned to face her. Emboldened in silver pigment was an unmistakeable family crest. A small image of two swords crossed under a large flower with smaller stems embracing the blades was seared into the young girl’s brain.
“It’s the worker’s seal for castle- “
“Dimitrescu.”
~
She moved like clockwork, setting the fine bone China on the table, its gold gilding cast the warm light from the chandeliers causing glowing flecks to dance across the table in a languid manner. Lining up silverware perfectly, any creases in the tablecloth were smoothed out without a trace. Y/n placed an elaborate and rather stunning crystal wineglass just to the right of the Lady’s plate. Stepping back, she admired her handiwork before heading to the kitchens and through a servant’s passage to their quarters. Her chores were to set the dining table then continue with whatever she had been assigned to that day, normally it was just all round general maintenance and cleaning. She’d then return after the Lady’s had finished to help clear the table and wash up.
Lady Elizabeth arrived first, ever her punctual self. Rather than take a seat she opted to float around the servants who still milled around, taking delight in scrutinising their every move. Y/n watched from afar, over the few months that she had been working at the castle she had noticed how Elizabeth imitated her mother’s grace and elegance, although y/n couldn’t verify this for herself, she’d never seen the matriarch in person. The eldest daughter’s façade of poise broke as soon as Daniela burst through the doors in the middle of animatedly telling Asta a story. Even from across the vast room, y/n could see, could feel, the captivation radiating off of the youngest daughter. A dull pang shot through her chest as Elizabeth gave an overly dramatic sigh pf exasperation at Daniela’s rowdiness, which she received a snarky remark in return. Eventually, but as predicted, Lady Daniela and Lady Elizabeth were having an argument about god knows what. As the bickering continued on, the maid slipped out a small hidden side door used by servants only.
Y/n stood in her shared bedroom and shed her current apron, she had managed to get some blood on it when she was cleaning up one of countless messes that the daughters left behind after their hunts, probably Daniela’s kill. The maid slipped the loop over her head and fastened the ties around her waist when footsteps were heard approaching her. She looked up when she heard a firm rap of knuckles on the door.
“Yes?”
“You are required,” Was all a butler said before ushering her out the quarters. Y/n really had no choice but to go with him.
After a few moments of brisk walking y/n spoke up, “Where am I needed? I’m sure I can get there myself,”
“Lady Asta asked for your presence specifically, Sorin has been dismissed from her duties,” He responded. A short pause, and a glance down at the maid filled her stomach with sickening nerves.
“What is it,”
Silence.
“Benjamin? Her voice had an anxious edge to it.
Upon silence again from the butler, y/n stopped dead in her tracks. Only for Benjamin’s hand, which as hovering behind her back to smack wright into her. The poor maid stumbled forward; a grunt of indignation came from her.
“What is going on” Just answer me, please,” Exhaustion dripped into her voice.
Benjamin’s eyes carried a hint of pity or sorrow, “You are to serve the Lady herself this evening. Like I said, Lady Asta requested you personally,” He sighed and cut off y/n, “Don’t ask me why. I don’t know, I didn’t fancy toiling with Lady Asta… I’m sorry,”
“We should get moving then,” A tiny tremor was present in her voice.
The dining hall was filled with the trio of terror’s chatter as Daniela and Elizabeth engaged in a heated… debate which was less debate than it was argument, on the most efficient and effective method of hunting. Whilst Asta played the devil’s advocate with glee, clearly enjoying antagonising both her sisters. She revelled in the chaos she brought to the table. Her face the picture definition of pure unadulterated delight. Y/n wasn’t listening to anything, she was half lost in her head and half looking out for the Lady’s needs. She had been watching Asta with mild interest, but the youngest gave no hint or indication that she had wanted y/n to be present. Which was fine by the maid. She stood behind the countess’ left in her blind spot. To be present but not seen as not to ruin the Lady’s meal. Another maid stood to the Lady’s right in line with y/n, and three others stood behind each daughter. For the first twenty or so minutes y/n had watched lady of the castle like a hawk. This was her first time seeing the woman in the flesh, and to say she had underestimated how tall people said her to be was an understatement. What the maid had pictured was perhaps a woman of six foot, not this towering nine foot six matriarch. The faux classiness Elizabeth conjured was hardly even child’s play in comparison to the Lady’s natural, and rather entrancing elegance.
One second. Two seconds. Three seconds. Three too many. Three too many seconds had passed since Lady Dimitrescu had had to set her empty wine glass down to her right. Y/n shot a sidelong glance over at the other maid who was serving the Lady alongside her. The maid held a bottle of the Dimitrescu’s famous red wine to her body. This girl was new and if y/n’s memory served her correctly she was called Amelia. Her only job was to make sure the countess’ glass didn’t run dry. It was a far cry from a hard job. It was y/n who had to do most of the Lady’s serving. The maid was rather surprised that no reprimand had been given, especially from Elizabeth and Daniela. Those two liked to berate the maids most, any mistake or anything not done in the due time was taken as a slight against their mother. Against house Dimitrescu. The lady of the house let out a sigh that was so silent most people would miss it. Four seconds. Y/n’s eyes shifted around the daughters, her eyes snagging on Asta’s. Five seconds.
‘Too slow Amelia.’
In a few swift steps y/n plucked the bottle of Sanguis Virginis from Amelia and approached the table. Without missing a beat, she had the wineglass half filled with the oddly dark opaque wine, that had the same coppery hint to it that could be found at the cellar doors.
“My sincerest apologies for the wait, my Lady,” Y/n spoke smoothly with an air of confidence, “I assure you it won’t happen again,”
With a flick of her wrist, she twirled the bottle upright, not a single drop spilt, or running down the neck. She went to set the Lady’s drink down when Amelia decided to kick start into action, she was several moments behind time. The poor maid in such a state of distress practically sprinted to the table, to y/n and in the process pushed her with full force into the table. Glass and bottle were slammed onto the tablecloth, shattering upon impact. A yelp fell from the maid’s lips as she felt the pristine shards of glass force their way with ease into her hands. How cliché, the maid could have sworn time slowed down as she watched the red seep into the fine white cloth. Was someone shouting in the distance? The wine soaked fabric coupled with the sparkling shards created an obscenely peaceful image, she imagined that hell maybe looked like this, subtly ominous and absolutely captivating with a conceited image of tranquillity...
Silence cascaded onto the dining room, no one dared move for a split second, before a more typical idea of hell broke loose. Cerberus took on the form of three cloaked woman, spurred into motion by the sobs of Amelia. Who at some point had fallen to her knees behind y/n. The maid dared a glance at the Lady of the castle, the brim of her hat cast an unnerving shadow on her face. The tall woman didn’t move, if y/n hadn’t caught her lips morph into a harsh frown then Lady Dimitrescu could have been mistaken for a statue. The matriarch made no effort to move at all, remaining seated. It seems as if she was allowing her daughters to carry out punishment as they saw fit. In her peripheral she could see some butlers and maids scrambling around. No doubt waiting for y/n to move so they could clean up.
A rush of wind caressed the maid’s face. The table and it’s red staining was gone. And the warm light of the chandelier was gone replaced with the dampened light of torches.
“You silly, silly little girl,” Elizabeth’s venom soaked voice trembled with pleasure.
Y/n looked behind her to see the eldest daughter bent at the waist, hand gripping Amelia’s chin with such strength that made her rub her own chin. Vaguely aware of Cerberus’ other two heads looming close.
“How hard is it to pour one glass of wine!?” Elizabeth directed her sights on y/n.
A flash of anger coursed through her, without realising, the maid’s eyebrows furrowed, and her nose scrunched almost imperceptibly so. This insolence didn’t go down well. Elizabeth rounded on y/n, standing taller than the maid. The daughter stared right into the maid’s eyes, as if silently asking her to explain her anger. Y/n swallowed, and averted her eyes, she watched Amelia scramble onto her feet to try make a run for it. Inly for Daniela to grab her by the scruff and chuck the other maid to the floor. Keeping her pinned there with a foot slammed onto her chest. Returning the gold eyes that hadn’t left her, y/n spoke without thinking over her words for the first time since her employment.
“I’m hardly at fault here,” She practically spat her words out, but her voice was calm. Rather surprising given her heart was misfiring every single beat and her limbs felt feather light with the adrenaline flying through her system. She let her mouth turn into a small scowl.
“Mother won’t be pleased if we lose two maidens tonight,” Asta chirped up, her breath tickling y/n’s neck. Why was she right behind y/n, the girl was almost up her ass.
“They were both involved with the mess,”
“Yes, but… I like this one! Let’s not kill her yet,” Asta sung her words, “I think mother would like her too, don’t you think Dani-dan?”
Daniela just shrugged. She didn’t care, right now she just wanted to tear into a maiden.
An exasperated sigh escaped Elizabeth, “Fine but it’s your head if she slips up again,”
She turned away from the maid and walked over to Daniela who glanced between her sisters then at you, she gave a wide grin before she put weight on her leg. Extracting a pained whine from Amelia. Pity filled y/n, but she hadn’t the time to dwell on it when Asta grabbed her by the front of her dress and lead her off somewhere. She followed in stunned silence, her system coming down from the rush of epinephrine. Her gaze was glassed over. A raw primal scream filled the space and y/n turned her neck with such speed she pulled something. What she saw caused her body to go limp, her knees collapse, sending her bent double onto the floor as she retched a few times. She felt the soft carpet against her skin. The dining room was white marble. Only the hallways of the castle had carpets. Y/n didn’t recall walking. Amelia’s pained scream filled y/n’s ears once again. She was the fool when she looked up again, a feverish sweat that felt cold began to prickle onto her skin as she hunched over. Emptying her stomach. The sharp smell of blood graced her nostrils as Amelia’s screams morphed from human to screams one would associate to a banshee.
“Y/n!”
It felt like someone had a fist around her heart and had yanked it from her body as hard as humanly possible. The maid went to throw up again, but she had already regurgitated the only food in her stomach. She couldn’t take her eyes from the sadistic macabre scene before her. Daniela’s eyes seemed to outshine the torches nestled in their sconces as she slowly dug her nails into Amelia’s heaving chest, she relished the feeling of the warm flesh as the maiden tried to fight her off. The Middle child di all of this whilst holding Y/n’s gaze. As if taunting her to step out of line so she could mutilate her next. Amelia’s head tilted so far back she was able to catch y/n’s eyes and take her attention from Daniela’s.
“Please help me,” Her voice was already stripped raw, “Please y/n. I’m begging you; I don’t want to die! Y/n please!”
Y/n whimpered, tears brimming at the blood bath taking place in front of her. Her hand clasped to her mouth; she could practically taste the blood in her mouth. Down to the metallic aftertaste.
‘There’s nothing I can do…I’m sorry Amelia. I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m- ‘
“Come,” Asta’s voice hummed, “we shouldn’t leave mother on her own at dinner,”
Asta pulled y/n to her feet and dragged her through the castle back to the grand dining room. Amelia’s begging and hoarse howls played in the background as if it were some softly played serenade.
The first thing y/n noticed was the unopened bottle of wine and empty glass sitting to the countess’ right. The youngest daughter walked her over to where Amelia was stationed only a matter of time ago. Asta trotted over to her mother, taking the seat adjacent to Lady Dimitrescu, and started up a conversation. Y/n noted that she had stolen Lady Elizabeth’s seat. How long had they been gone? Certainly, a short while, the entire table had been re-set. A new tablecloth was draped over the fine mahogany and the dessert plate ware had been laid out. Small cake forks reflected the candlelight. The maid’s gaze was a thousand yards, Amelia’s desperation and fear filled eyes replayed over and over and over and over-
“My glass is still empty, little lamb,” Lady Dimitrescu’s silken voice seemed to almost purr.
Panic wrapped its ice cold hand around/n’s throat and tightened its grip. Her breathing became laboured. Pin pricks that were hot and cold simultaneously made their way up her neck.
“Forgive me, my Lady,” she whispered. Alcina could practically see the tremble in her voice.
Y/n stepped forward, the oh so pleasant taste of stomach acid and bile filled her mouth. She went for the bottle and flinched when she saw her bloodied hand. She paused then took a half step back from the table to wipe her hands on her apron. A firm grip on her hand put a stop to her actions, cool leather felt pleasant against her heated skin. The surprise from the unanticipated movement took all structure from y/n’s knees as she fell. God smiled down on her; she was able to catch herself on the table. It looked like she had only stumbled.
“Let’s not waste good food,” The countess’ voice had an amused hum to it.
Y/n looked up to meet Lady Dimitrescu’s eyes, her face a fresh canvas for her confusion. She must be making a face. She looked complete and utterly miffed at the Lady’s words. It elicited a heavenly chuckle from the countess. Adrenaline began to seep into the maiden’s bloodstream. The countess could hear her heart thrashing and feel the slight tremors of the maiden. She let her gaze trail down the maid’s neck, admiring the smooth skin, pulled taught. Courtesy of Alcina’s height over the young woman even in her seated position. She could see the artery in her neck move as it pumped blood along. The Lady of the castle could feel the hunger stirring within her.
Gold eyes returned to the maid’s. The countess maintained eye contact as she lifted the woman’s hand to her mouth. She smiled coyly at y/n, letting her warm breath rush the cut palm. She took a long deep inhale, exhaled slowly, and made a sound of bliss, as if she was inhaling the aroma of a perfume. Y/n watched her, still as a statue. Fear began to ebb into her eyes. Alcina found amusement in this and moved slowly. Wishing to draw this out for as long as humanly possible. The countess traced her lips along one of the cuts, mirth hinted in her mouth as she still held y/n’s eyes with her own. The maid let out an embarrassing squeal when she felt the Lady’s tongue trail across her hand. She watched as the countess took her time, seemingly savouring every drop of blood.
The lady sat up a little, her eyes closed as another sound of absolute contentment came from her throat. Y/n seemed to gain her senses back and yanked her handout of the countess grip. A fruitless effort. Alcina’s grip was iron clad. No amount of adrenaline could break her hold. The Lady fixed y/n with a look. It wasn’t one of reprimand though.
“You taste absolutely divine,” The sweetest most intoxicating smile accompanied Alcina’s words. Y/n watched her cherry painted lips as she spoke. Y/n’s eyes stared at Alcina with a doe like innocence to them.
“My lady,” was all she could manage to say. She was hardly paid a compliment.
Lady Dimitrescu waited for a few minutes before loosening her hold on the maid’s wrist. Compared to her hand the woman’s wrist would be oh so easily snapped. With minimal effort on the Lady’s part. She did not let go of the maid, but the lax grip was all y/n needed. She pulled her hand away a little too eagerly and went straight for the bottle of Sanguis Virginis. She uncorked it with practiced ease and had the wine glass filled within seconds. Another perfect pour with not a sliver to waste. She set the glass down by the Lady’s right and placed the bottle further away before taking up her position behind the Lady. The countess’ eyes followed her every move.
‘What the fuck?’
Animated conversation filled the room gradually as the eldest daughters approached the dining room. The grand double doors swung open with more force than necessary, sending them into the walls with an unflattering thud. Alcina sighed to herself as she watched her daughters glide in, the trace of a soft look of love in her eyes. They took their seats again, not without Elizabeth shooting Asta a dirty glare to which she received a smug look.
“I still think we should get the other maid,” She took a jab at Asta, with Daniela nodding like some scholar.
Lady Asta’s mouth opened to give a retort, but their mother interjected. Instantly grabbing Cerberus’ attention wholly, “My darlings, we are already understaffed,”
“Leave anything for me, Elsies?” Asta took joy in taunting Elizabeth.
“In your dreams,”
An argument quickly picked up between the two as Daniela dug into one of the cakes laid out on the table. Alcina watched the scene unfold with one perfectly arched eyebrow raised ever so slightly. The argument soon shifted to be between Daniela and Elizabeth. Asta had taken her mother up in conversation once more. As she spoke with her mother, she made eye contact with y/n, a sly smile played on her lips as she returned her attention back to the countess. Y/n supressed the urge to throw up again as she allowed her mind to wander. She didn’t know if replaying Amelia’s demise was better than being mentally present in the dining room.
A hand bushed her cheek and pulled her face to the right where she saw the silk of a white dress. When had the countess stood up?
“What did I say about wasting food, pet?”
“Pardon?”
“Tend to your hand before you make more of a mess,”
Y/n glanced down at her hand and then to the pool of blood that had built up. The hand on her chin trailed along her other cheek before leaving. As if attached by string, the maid looked over her shoulder. Following the Lady’s hand. She watched the countess stop at the doors. Alcina looked over her shoulder at the young maiden, a playful smile toyed on her red stained lips.
‘Looks like my little Asta is right… the girl will be fun’