Once Upon a Dark October

Chapter Twenty-Five

D rusilla had banished me from the throne room without uttering a single word of praise now that it was spotless and glistening and fit to welcome the residents of Dreadmist. I’d mopped and scrubbed the floors until they reflected with a glossy marbled shine, climbed wobbling ladders to dust and sweep away cobwebs, polished the gilded clock and sconces, and chased a family of mice from one of the room’s pillared alcoves. I’d even replaced the hundreds of tapers in the chandeliers. Drusilla only summoned me again to light a fire in the massive hearth, overseeing the task until I was covered in soot. With a fanged sneer, I was dismissed, the lock clicking solidly behind me.

It seemed her tolerance of me was a fragile thing despite our understanding.

I was on my way back to scrub the hallways in the surrounding wing, toting buckets of clean water with rags draped over them. Vampiric strength had made my duties easier—though I’d built up quite a lot of muscle strength as a mortal—and the tasks lighter. I had to remember to feign an air of mortal clumsiness. I’d let the buckets slip from my grasp, leaving trails of soap suds and water. I’d stop to rest often, claiming fatigue, then wander the hallways to the kitchens. The diversions helped me to listen to the rooms and corridors, surreptitious as I sought out heartbeats and whispers.