CHAPTER NINE
9
Morwenna
Well, it did get worse from there.
Not only did my hands ache from washing thousands of dishes, but it was just the beginning of my servitude to the Vimic. Who even eats all this food? Why are there so many dishes? I thought they were vampires. Vampires don’t eat, right? Or did I miss something in my research on them?
Sweat covered my forehead, and I used the back of my hand to wipe it off as I thought maybe I should catch my breath.
In a count. One, two, three... I inhaled a puff of air and counted again, Four, Five, Six... and exhaled the puff of air that I was holding in. With that done, I ventured out of the kitchen. Thankfully, it offered a reprieve from the blinding brilliance that assaulted my eyes in Draven’s throne room.
Hours, or maybe even days, had blurred together as I watched those endless rows of antique ceramic plates. Breaking one of those priceless heirlooms under Lady Jen’s watchful eye wouldn’t exactly make a good first impression. Though, I daresay I’d already made quite the impact on the stern housekeeper.
Regardless, I was done with plate patrol. A moment to myself, a chance to catch my breath, seemed like a distant dream until...
“Next task,” Lady Jen announced before I even crossed the threshold of the opulent, old-fashioned kitchen. It was as if she’d been watching my every move. Oh dear.
“Next task already?!” My voice betrayed exhaustion. Her steely gaze held mine as she tossed a long scroll towards me. I snatched it reflexively, then slowly unfurled it, my mind racing. A map? Was map-reading part of my bizarre new duties?
“What is this?” I managed, my energy waning.
“That,” she replied coolly, “is a map of the entire household.”
“This entire castle?” The sheer scale of it made my head spin. I could easily get lost in a place this size.
“Indeed,” she confirmed curtly.
“Do I have to memorize every nook and cranny of this place or what?” Frustration laced my voice.
Lady Jen seemed to be trying to maintain her composure, despite my less-than-friendly attitude towards her. Even though she had stormed off previously, I half-expected her to return with two bloodsuckers to punish me.
But she appeared cool, though.
I reminded myself that people like her, who try to act cool, often have ulterior motives and move like snakes.
“Yes. This map is more like magic,” she said, and I wondered how I was supposed to read a magic map. I’m not a sorceress or anything, but I didn’t voice my thoughts. She continued, “The magic map reads you. Any task you do will be recorded on this map as proof that you’ve done it, and it marks your details and all, including your fingerprints.”
I glanced at the map, my fingers hesitant to open it fully. “So, what’s my next task then?”
A giggle escaped Lady Jen’s lips. “You’ve got two tasks. First, you have to scrub every toilet in this household. You may not know this because you’re not yet familiar with the place, but there are 404 toilets here. Just tap on the map, and it will teleport you to your destination for one of your tasks,” she explained, before listing the second one. “And the second task is Lord Draven’s throne room.” When she mentioned his name, I almost stopped breathing, fearing the worst: sex. However, she continued, “You have to clean his throne room.”
A breath finally escaped my lips, relieving my nerves.
Thank goodness.
We weren’t going to have sex, as I had feared; it was just my intrusive thoughts getting the best of me again. Lady Jen must have mistaken my relieved gasp for something else, until I heard her say, “And I promise you, it won’t be as easy as washing plates, as you might think.”
Goodness, what’s her problem? Even washing those darn plates was stressful for me.
Okay, I’ll try not to overthink it, even though it’s going to stress me out.
With that, I took a deep breath, trying to quell the rising tide of anxiety. One (slightly disgusting) task at a time.
“What are you waiting for? Get to work,” Lady Jen said impatiently.
I was just trying to catch my breath, and Lady Jen was already on my neck. I inhaled deeply. “Just give me a little break...”
“A break?!” she echoed my words. “No one gets breaks.”
“But I need it,” I whined, frustration bubbling up. Unlike these tireless vampires, I was human, a Chimeran, and humans needed breaks. I wouldn’t be surprised if they didn’t even have hearts.
“Rule number one working for Lord Draven,” Lady Jen stated, her tone clipped. “Tasks come first. No complaints, no questions.” A slight pause. “Unless, of course,” she continued, a dangerous glint in her eyes, “you want to mess up and face the consequences.” Her words were laced with a chilling threat, a reminder I couldn’t ignore.
I knew the consequences, and she was trying to use them to scare me.
“And remember, make sure you finish it before the clock...” she said, her voice trailing off as she vanishes.
“Clock what?” the words came out as a whisper as I was already exhausted. I needed to catch my damn breath.
“Clocks you back to work,” a husky voice completed the sentence. I whirled around, heart hammering, to find Elara Vance, the vampire, smirking. My memory, thankfully, hadn’t deserted me.
“Elara?” I questioned, surprised. “I thought you left.”
A sly smile played on her lips. “Just here to lend a hand.”
I rolled my eyes internally. “Did I say I needed you to help me?” Nope, I didn’t need her help, and I didn’t understand why she kept offering it, like it should be the other way around.
“Yes, but you do need help with this one,” she responded.
“Well, I don’t,” I said, my voice tinged with pride.
“Lady Jen gave you two important tasks, and completing one can take forever, even for a human girl like you,” she started.
“So? Are you here to mock me for being weak, unlike you vampires?”
“I’m saying it’s impossible and it will drain you quickly. Even completing one task is quite draining,” Elara tried to explain.
I knew where she was going with this. “I was able to survive washing those darn plates, so scrubbing 404 toilets... can’t be that hard,” I said confidently. Then my mind flashed: 404 toilets. Damn, that sounded like the opposite of easy.
“Actually, it’s more than 404,” she said, adding to my fear of washing all those toilets. And vampires with toilets? Do they have bladders or something? There seemed to be nothing I wouldn’t keep learning about them. I sighed.
“Whatever,” I said, feeling exhausted.
“I’m happy to help if you insist,” Elara persisted.
“Why are you helping me? Aren’t you supposed to be with your, you know, Lord of Lust?” I questioned. If she didn’t work for Draven, she wasn’t supposed to be here, according to what she had said.
“My master is busy with his mistresses, so I doubt he’ll know I’m gone. But I can always come to Lord Draven’s castle because my mom conducts spells for him, so that’s my luck there,” she explained, and my eyes rolled away from hers.
“And why are...”
“I’m helping you because your Mom and mine happen to be...” she trailed off, “close!”
I scoffed, “Close as how?” There was no way my mom was close to Elara’s mom, a witch.
Elara seemed to pick up on my disbelief. “Maybe not close like that of friends, but your mom happened to have sought help from my mom,” she said.
I was somehow curious to know the help. “Help with what?” Because I knew the only help my mom sought was from the Vimic, but I didn’t know which of the brothers, as back then, I had no idea that the Vimic brothers were eight, since before there were only seven.
“Something personal,” Elara said, as if she were trying to withhold information from me. “It’s a private matter between my mom and yours, so I can’t tell you what it is exactly,” she added.
I doubted if mom would tell me either.
“Whatever,” I waved off. “Is that why you are helping me?”
“Your mom has always been nice, so I can’t watch by and see her daughter suffer,” Elara said.
“Nice?” I scoffed. “I doubt that. My mom is far from nice.” It had to be a joke. Mom is nice, but when she’s with me, she yells at me. In fact, mom yells a lot, and I’m surprised at how her vocals haven’t aged. She’s always like ‘Morwenna this,’ ‘Morwenna that...’ It’s like I can even hear her very words in my head right now.
“It’s like you and your mother have history,” said Elara. Yeah, a history of mother and daughter always quarreling among themselves all the time. Mom and I seemed to clash over everything. Our raised voices were probably a source of amusement for the neighbors, who likely mistook us for squabbling sisters.
Theresa and I rarely argued, mostly because she was never around. But Mom? Oh boy. It was a constant barrage of “Morwenna, why haven’t you dyed your hair?” and “Morwenna, your eyes...” Whatever the latest complaint was, it was always followed by the same refrain: “Morwenna, why haven’t you taken your medicine? You know it’s important!” Blah blah blah blah blah... The list went on and on.
“Long history,” I drawled, hesitant to delve into it. “And that’s why I don’t want to talk about it. If you’re offering to assist me out of obligation for my mother’s insincere kindness, then I appreciate the gesture, but I must respectfully decline your help,” I rejected, despite desperately needing it. What will it take for me to swallow my pride and seek her assistance for once, Morwenna?
“Okay, as you’re not particularly close to your mom, let me rephrase. I’m helping you because you’re new here, and I wouldn’t want you to get lost on your first day, especially if you accidentally stumble into the wrong headquarters and encounter hungry vampires,” Elara suggests. Her concern seems genuine, though.
I couldn’t help but stare. Here I was, swallowing my pride and reluctantly accepting help from a vampire. Taking a deep breath, I conceded, “Alright, if you insist... I guess I accept.”
Elara shrugged, a casual movement that contrasted with my own internal turmoil. “Sure!”
“I mean it,” I pressed, finally letting go of my reservations. “Thank you for your concern, and I apologize for snapping earlier.”
“I understand. As a human, you naturally harbor animosity toward us, vampires,” Elara acknowledges.
“I may dislike your kind in general, but I’m willing to make an exception for one individual,” I admit.
My gaze met hers, a flicker of defiance replaced by something akin to grudging acceptance. “Perhaps,” I admitted. “Let’s call it a truce. For now. I’m Morwenna Petrova,” I offered, extending my hand.
“Elara Vance,” she replied, her handshake firm and welcoming. A tentative bridge, perhaps, between a wary human and a helpful vampire.
I smiled as we released the handshake. “So, Elara Vance, how are we going to handle this? Lady Jen mentioned that my fingerprints are recorded once I finish any tasks.”
“Well, you’re right, but it’s quite simple to forge a fingerprint,” she says, triggering an immediate thought in my mind.
“Are you going to take my blood?”
“No,” she replies curtly, “I’ll be using magic.”
“Like witchcraft?”
“Something similar,” she says, as a spark of lightning flickers from her fingertips.
“But didn’t you mention you weren’t proficient with your... abilities?” I inquire.
A hint of pride flickered in her eyes. “I’m not a prodigy, but I’ve learned a few spells, including forgery.”
“Wait... are you going to forge my blood?” I ask, a gasp escaping me.
Elara’s lips curved into a sly smile. “Possibly.”
“Don’t you require my blood to forge it?” I pressed, my voice laced with nervous urgency.
“Extracting your blood would be a significant risk, especially with the vampires in this household, particularly Lord Draven, the manor’s owner. You wouldn’t want to attract his attention with that,” Elara explains.
I’m taken aback by her words.
“So, how will you manage it?” I inquire.
“Simple. Through forging!” she declares, preempting any further questions. “And don’t fret about it. Just choose one of the tasks on the map for the forging to occur. I don’t want Lady Jen to sense it; she’ll report it to my mother,” Elara adds. “So, which task will you select?” she prompts, and I ponder.
I can’t possibly clean over 404 toilets in this vast manor, nor can I tackle a throne room that resembles six of my neighborhood combined. But I must choose one. What will it be? I definitely won’t be scrubbing toilets exceeding 404; the mere thought makes me shudder. What if I encounter more vampires there? No, I have no option but to clean Lord Draven’s throne room.
A sigh of weariness escaped my lips as I said, “The second task. I’ll clean Lord Draven’s throne room.”
“Second task it is,” Elara confirms.
“So, I suppose it’s time for me to begin,” I remarked, feeling a bit overwhelmed.
“Well, we...” Elara corrected. But I doubted she’d contribute much, given her ability to rely on magic or vampire speed, unlike me—a tired, lazy human who despises work. Then she added, “Let’s begin!” I nodded in agreement.
“Elara!” I called softly.
“Yes, Morwenna?” she responded.
“Thank you,” I said sincerely. And with that, the world dissolved in a swirl of smoke, the familiar stone floor of the kitchen replaced by a sight that momentarily stole my breath. Dimly lit candles cast long, flickering shadows across the vast throne room, its grandeur both opulent and slightly intimidating. A worn magic scroll materialized in my hand alongside a rather dusty broom. Magic, undoubtedly.
I scanned the room, searching for any sign of the enigmatic Lord Draven. No tell-tale scent of cold earth, no imposing presence. Just me and the echoing emptiness.
A shiver danced down my spine, but I quickly squashed it. “It won’t be that bad, Morwenna,” I muttered to myself as I tucked the scroll into the pocket of my hoodie then zipped it up before gripping the broom tighter.
Lady Jen’s words echoed in my mind: “Time waits for no one.” Though, considering the whole vampire immortality thing, I wasn’t so sure that applied here. Either way, a dusty throne room wouldn’t clean itself. With a rather forced determined glint in my eye, I set to work.
As I began to sweep, exhaustion quickly set in, weighing heavily on my tired body.
I felt weak and drained, barely halfway through the task.
If only my phone were here, I could have drowned out my thoughts with music, a comforting escape from the complexities of my life, especially this one. But alas, it was not to be; instead, my mind wandered once more.
My bag—damn it. It held my notebook, laptop, and camera, all stashed away inside. But it wasn’t with me. Did I forget to retrieve it? I distinctly remember one of the vampire guards rifling through its contents, searching for stolen items that I certainly hadn’t taken.
And my phone, too, was missing in action. It must have been left behind at Ms. Valentina’s place. Considering Draven’s unwillingness to let me leave, I highly doubted I’d be retrieving it anytime soon.
I attempted to locate my bag, certain it must be somewhere within this vast throne room, where its contents had been carelessly scattered. But where to begin searching in such a grand space? That, I do not know. Every corner seemed impossibly vast. Very vast.
My efforts to find my bag only served to drain me further, leaving my body feeling even more fragile and weak.
Fuck.
Exhaustion washed over me, accompanied by a strange sensation of suffocation. It felt as though someone had cast a spell on me, clouding my senses with magic, making it harder to breathe.
My breaths grew shallower, and I found myself sinking to the cold ground, leaning against what I believed to be a pillar. The broom lay forgotten on my lap as my heavy eyelids threatened to close. I fought against the dizziness swirling in my head but found myself succumbing to it.
A yawn escaped my lips, followed by another.
Maybe a short nap, just two minutes, and then I’d resume my work.
With my tired eyes fluttering shut, another familiar scent filled my nostrils, tempting me to investigate whether it was him or merely the effects of the magic.
Yet, a single, insistent thought echoed: Sleep. Sleep. Sleep.