Chapter 11
Castle Dracula, Transylvania
Mina woke the next morning, momentarily forgetting where she was. She stared up at the intricate design on the ceiling, then let her gaze drift across the luxurious bedding around her. It was a stark contrast to what she had grown accustomed to over the last few days of travel.
Then her thoughts returned to her final waking moments from the night before—the whispering outside her door. Surely she had not imagined it. And yet, who in this castle would do such a thing? The memory left her unsettled.
A knock sounded at her door, and before Mina could answer, it opened.
“Good morning, mistress,” Sofia said. “I’m just starting your bath.” The woman crossed the room with a bucket in hand, the slosh of water breaking the morning quiet.
Mina sat up and glanced toward the windows to her left—the sun had fully risen. Had she slept longer than she’d intended? It made sense, she supposed, after the days of travel.
Moments later, Sofia passed back through the chamber and disappeared into the darkened corridor beyond, leaving Mina with a lingering sense of intrusion.
In London, it was not customary to enter someone’s chambers in such a way—but perhaps the custom was different here.
The Count’s words from the night before returned to her: Transylvania is not England.
She pushed aside the heavy covers, the cold air sinking through her cotton shift, and moved around the bed toward the bathing chamber.
The adjoining room bore little resemblance to the water closets of London—there was only bare stone, a simple basin for washing, and a tub set at the center.
It took a moment before she realized what was so strange about her quarters.
As Sofia reappeared with another bucket of water, Mina asked, “Are there no mirrors in my rooms?”
Sofia did not answer at once, pouring the water into the tub as though the question required no response.
“Mirrors?” she said at last, straightening with a small frown.
“Yes,” Mina said. “So that I might fix my hair—or at least know I’m presentable.”
Sofia stared at her, seemingly confused as to why such a thing would be needed. “Vanity is a sin, mistress. To dwell upon one’s image invites pride and envy. A countess has no need of either.”
Mina stilled, the word echoing in her mind. Countess.
She had not truly considered what it meant to take on such a title, yet now its weight settled heavily upon her shoulders.
“I see,” was all Mina could manage.
Sofia lingered a moment longer, then said, “I must gather another bucket of water.” She turned and began to cross the room.
“Sofia,” Mina said, before the woman could slip through the door. The question rose up, sudden and insistent—one she had nearly forgotten amid the strangeness of the morning. “Were you outside my door last night?”
The woman’s eyes widened, alarm flickering across her face. “No, mistress.”
“I’m not cross with you,” Mina said quickly. “I only heard someone outside my door and wondered if it was you.”
Sofia hesitated before replying. “No, mistress. We are not permitted to roam the castle after dark unless accompanying a guest.”
Mina’s stomach churned as her mind replayed the sound of laughter—the voices distinctly feminine. “Then perhaps it was one of the other staff?”
“That is unlikely,” Sofia said. “I am the only staff allowed into these quarters. The driver, Vasile, remains on the ground level unless the Count requires his assistance.”
“Is it just the two of you?” Mina asked. “What about the cook?”
“I do the cooking, mistress.”
Mina blinked in confusion. “Really? It’s just—I can imagine you must be quite busy with your other tasks. In England, it would be typical for—”
“You are not in England, mistress,” Sofia cut in.
Mina had not meant to pry, but a dark shadow crossed Sofia’s face, her expression pinched.
“Things are the way they are for a reason.” Sofia swallowed visibly, her voice softening as she added, “It is for your safety, mistress.”
Guilt coursed through Mina—she had clearly pressed a nerve. “Of course,” she said, offering a small smile. “Thank you, Sofia.”
The woman gave a nod and moved past Mina, leaving the bedroom door ajar as she disappeared down the hall, the water bucket clinking softly in her hand.
Mina remained where she was for a moment, unsettled. Her gaze drifted back to the open doorway, and with it came the memory of the previous night—the whispers outside her door. Perhaps, if she understood where the hallway led, she might make sense of what she had heard.
She walked over to the door and eased it open more fully, peering into the corridor beyond.
There were no windows to illuminate the space—only the faint spill of light from her chamber behind her.
She stepped out, glancing left in the direction Sofia had gone, then right, toward a hallway that curved out of sight.
With a look over her shoulder, she moved down the unfamiliar path, shadows closing in around her despite the morning hour.
She came upon a closed door. She could not have said what stirred her curiosity, only that she found herself reaching out and testing the handle.
It was locked, as seemed to be the case for every room in this castle aside from her own.
As she continued down the hall, her heart thrummed with the knowledge that she was breaking one of the few rules the Count had given her. Still, surely walking the corridor outside her own chambers could not be so grave an offense.
With each step, she listened for the sound of Sofia returning with the water bucket.
Another closed door appeared. She tried the handle, finding it locked as well.
As the corridor curved, her chamber disappeared from view, and she slowed.
Perhaps there was a staircase nearby leading to the servants’ quarters.
If so, it might explain the sounds she had heard—nothing more than voices echoing where they were never meant to reach her.
But at the end of the hall, there was no stairway—only another corridor stretching onward.
She looked from one direction to the other. Stone. Doors. Silence.
Were these rooms simply empty? The thought unsettled her. It seemed absurd to possess such a vast castle only to seal its chambers away, leaving them to gather dust.
It was just as she turned back toward her chambers that a sound came from the hallway behind her. Mina stilled, listening intently. Footsteps—slow, almost cautious, as though whoever made them did not wish to be discovered.
For a moment, she thought of Jonathan, but dismissed the idea at once.
He was not the sort to sneak; if he wished to do something, he would simply do it.
A servant, then? Perhaps Sofia had exaggerated when she claimed it was only Vasile and herself to tend to the castle’s needs.
And yet, if the Count required little, maybe it was not so unreasonable.
She told herself it might be Sofia after all, moving carefully beneath the weight of a full water bucket.
Still, the fear of being caught where she ought not to be sent her heart racing, and Mina hastened back the way she had come.
Relief washed through her when her chambers came into view, light spilling out into the corridor.
Mina had just stepped into that glow when she saw Sofia turn down the hall—not from behind her, but from ahead, coming from the same direction she had gone earlier.
“Can I help you, mistress?” Sofia asked, her voice edged with surprise.
“Oh,” Mina said, glancing back down the corridor. “No. I thought I heard you out here.”
“It’s best you stay in your chambers,” Sofia said as she approached with the full bucket of water. “You’ll catch a chill in these drafty corridors. Go on.” She nodded toward the room, and Mina obeyed, crossing her arms over herself as she moved to the window.
Sofia kicked the bedroom door shut behind them, as though Mina might otherwise slip away while the bath was being filled.
But as Mina stood there, looking out into the snowy morning, she turned the incident over in her mind, doubt beginning to creep in.
Perhaps she had only heard echoes of Sofia’s own footsteps, distorted by the bends of the corridor.
Or perhaps the sound had seemed closer than it truly was.
It might even have been the driver, Vasile, attending to one of his duties.
Then another possibility occurred to her—the priest. She had seen him only the night before, deep beneath the castle, but that did not mean his quarters lay there.
It did not quite explain the cautious quality of the footsteps, but it eased her nerves to have a reasonable explanation. She decided this must be so.
***
After bathing and dressing, Mina reached for the crucifix she had received the day prior from the innkeeper’s wife.
She held it in her hands, tracing the grooves of the carved wood with her fingertips.
Some part of her wanted to leave it behind in her chambers, but then she thought of the innkeeper’s words: Only God can save you there.
It was illogical to believe such a thing could keep her safe—to imagine there was anything to fear beyond man or wolf, and certainly not the creatures of penny dreadfuls—but Mina found herself placing it around her neck all the same.
When Sofia arrived at her door shortly after, Mina followed her through the maze of stone corridors to the dining room where they had eaten the night before.
Jonathan sat alone at the table, a mug in one hand and paperwork in the other, his attention fixed on the page.
The Count had already departed on business, though Mina had been assured he would return by nightfall—a prospect that sent a fresh ripple of nerves through her.