Chapter 17 #2
This room had no windows, the darkness so complete it was almost suffocating. Mina stilled, afraid to move, swallowing down fear.
And then, another lock clicked open several feet away.
“This way,” the feminine voice whispered.
Mina turned toward the sound, fear pressing down on her as she stared into blackness. She could see nothing, make out not one shape or shadow, as though she were sightless. The sensation made her lungs constrict.
“I can’t see,” she whispered, fear spilling through her.
Suddenly, a hand grasped hers, leading her through the blackness.
She followed slowly, afraid to trip, her mind creating all kinds of possibilities for what might be in the room around her.
She imagined more raiders dead on the floor, mounds of bodies.
She inhaled sharply, but no scent of iron or decay greeted her—instead, it was the smell of beeswax and lavender.
The woman’s touch vanished, another door locked, and then, mercifully, a match was lit.
Mina watched as the flame seemed to float across the room, the only sign of someone holding it the warm glow reflected on delicate fingers.
The woman lit a candle, then another, the light revealing the furniture within.
They were surrounded by stone, with not a single window on any of the four walls. A thick burgundy carpet covered most of the floor, with a dark wooden table above it flanked by two high-backed armchairs upholstered in rich velvet.
In the warm glow of candlelight, Mina could now see that the woman before her was beautiful, and much younger than she’d once believed.
She appeared to be near Mina’s age, but there was something regal about the way she held herself.
Her hair was long, falling in blonde waves down her back, and from profile, Mina could see the soft slope of her nose, the slight pout of her mouth.
She wondered how on earth this woman could have killed those two raiders so swiftly—she did not look to be a warrior, or a woman familiar with battle.
“That will have to do,” the woman said softly, lighting another candle.
As Mina looked around, she realized that this room did not feel the same as the others in the castle—this space was lived in. It felt like someone’s home.
“Do you live here?” Mina asked, trying to make sense of it all. Her mind began to swirl with questions. “How do you know the Count?”
The woman blinked softly, seeming perfectly at ease despite all that was occurring in these walls.
“Wilhelmina, isn’t it?”
Mina swallowed, alarm rising within. “How do you know that?”
The woman only smiled. “You have many questions. Sit,” she said, gesturing toward one of the armchairs.
“You’re safe, for now.” It didn’t sound like a threat, but Mina realized it very well could be.
It would be nothing for this woman to eliminate her the way she had those men. “Luckily, I was just making some tea.”
Mina frowned, watching as the woman walked over to a high table at the corner of the room. She heard the soft clinks of cups being placed on the table, of water being poured into each one. She walked over to the chair and slowly eased into it. “Does the Count know you’re here?”
The blonde woman responded without looking back. “Do you think anything goes on within these walls that the Count is unaware of?”
Mina swallowed. “Then why hasn’t he spoken of your presence?” she went on. “Are you one of the servants?”
A sound escaped the woman’s mouth, something between a breath and a laugh. “Not quite. Though, sometimes it does feel that way.” The woman turned around with a tray in her hands, walking over to the chairs and placing it on the small table between them.
“How do you know my name?” Mina asked. Not only had she known her name, but she had used her full name given at birth, a name only the Count had taken to calling her. Had he been the one to tell this woman of her?
“Sugar?” the woman asked, preparing two cups. Mina looked into the woman’s blue eyes, trying to sense if there was malice within.
“I’m not thirsty,” Mina lied.
The woman stilled. “I don’t know how things are in England, but in Transylvania, it is impolite to reject food or drink offered.”
Mina stared at her, not wanting to anger the woman.
“Yes,” Mina said softly.
The woman gave a soft nod, scooping a small teaspoon of sugar into the cup.
How was it possible that the Count was defending the castle from raiders while this woman sat here with all the civility of a tea service?
“Are you not afraid for him?” Mina asked.
The woman exhaled quietly. “No.” She lifted a silver flask and poured a measure into each cup. Then, as if answering the question Mina had not voiced, she added, “Brandy. They call it Transylvanian tea.”
She handed Mina a cup. The scent of cinnamon and cloves mingled with the sharp sweetness of brandy. Taking her own, the woman raised it to her lips.
“Drink,” she said. “It will ease your nerves.”
Hesitantly, Mina lifted the tea to her lips, watching as the woman took her own sip.
Mina followed suit, the hot liquid soothing as it went down her throat.
She looked around the room, wondering where in the castle they were.
She’d lost any sense of where she was when the Count had taken her from the library, and she certainly didn’t know where she was now.
Even if she wanted to return to her chambers, she had no way to do so on her own.
“How did you know where I was?” Mina asked before taking another sip of the tea. The brandy had a tingle of spice, and she could already feel herself softening, the tension easing just enough to breathe again.
The woman only stared, her beautiful face peaceful, her cup in her hands. Slowly, she took a sip of her tea. “It’s difficult to explain.”
Mina frowned. “Did the Count tell you?”
The woman held her gaze as she said, “No.”
Mina shifted in her seat, setting the teacup down on the table between them. She wondered what this woman’s relationship was to the Count—was it a family member? It seemed odd how at ease she was. Was he her brother? Her cousin?
“Are you not concerned with what is going on here? Are you not afraid for the Count?”
The woman took another sip of her tea, then set the cup down.
“The Count can take care of himself,” she said simply.
“As for these men, this isn’t their first attempt.
I’m sure it won’t be their last.” She looked away, her eyes distant as if thinking of those previous times.
Then, a soft smile appeared on her lips.
“Men are rather predictable that way, are they not?”
Mina tried to consider the woman’s words, but fatigue was swiftly moving in. She opened her mouth to speak, but her thoughts seemed so far away. She swallowed, leaning back in her seat.
“You’re sweet,” the woman said.
Mina glanced at her, furrowing her brows. Who was sweet?
Her head was throbbing.
She reached up to her head, the room seeming to darken around her.
Mina realized that she was leaning, but she could not seem to right herself. Her limbs were so heavy, as if weighed down by bags of sand.
Her eyes drifted shut, and she forced them open.
The woman sat before her, and Mina thought . . . she thought . . .
What did she think?
“Sleep well, my pet.”
And then slumber took her.