Her Maiden

Chapter Two: Chambers

You wait with baited breath, listening to the soft crackles of the fireplace and the patter of rain hitting the bedroom windows.

You're completely alone.

Until you won't be.

Until she decides to come in.

These are her chambers, after all.

You glance around. The room is grand, and bathed in golden light. Paintings, vases and sculptures adorn it.

I get it - you're rich, you think to yourself.

There's a large bed. Really large. You would have to climb up onto it with some effort, you realise, as it's almost as high as your shoulders. It's layered with thick fur rugs and expensive looking sheets. The straw mattress in your chambers had been a step up for you, when you had been employed by the castle. You couldn't imagine what a life of such indulgence and opulence must feel like. To be able to sleep in luxury, as well as live in it. You couldn't begin to imagine what that could be like.

You study the rest of the room. There's a writing desk, a drinks cabinet filled with bottles and crystal glasses, as well as a doorway at the far side of the room.

You peer in, and see an en suite, with a large golden bathtub in the centre of it.

You weren't sure what you had expected, but still found yourself disappointed that it wasn't a way out.

You move back to the bedroom, standing awkwardly, feeling as though you can't dare touch anything, let alone sit down.

How long is she going to be?

Is she going to kill me?

You think hard. From your patchy knowledge of the castle, the missing maids seemed to disappear into the cellar of the castle, never to reappear. You couldn't remember anyone mentioning being brought to Lady Dimitrescu's chambers before.

Your mind goes off down rabbit holes of each and every possibility, but you already know it's useless to speculate.

But you are aware that it's probably not looking good for you.

You realise that you might have a chance of survival if you can find a way to arm yourself. Even if it only takes her by surprise, buying you time to run out of the room. You don't imagine you'd actually be able to maim such a powerful woman when you were so tiny in comparison to her.

You look around the room and your eyes lock on a vintage silver letter opener left idly on the writing desk. You grab it, and retreat to the far side of the room, putting as much distance between you and the doorway as possible.

You weren't going to let her near you. You weren't going to just let her kill you. If that's the way this is going, you at least want to make it difficult for her.

You've been through too much to just get... "snuffed out" like this.

You bristle with adrenaline when you hear those same long-winded, heeled footsteps grow closer to the door. You're already shaking as the lock turns, your knuckles are a hard white against the handle of the letter opener.

The door opens, and you watch as the black brimmed hat dips under the doorway, before Lady Dimitrescu has entered the room and drawn herself up to full height.

She really is insanely beautiful, you couldn't help but think. A nervous pang hits your stomach, but the sensation is not entirely unpleasant - not at all.

All of a sudden, you remember the head chef in the kitchen describing angler fish once when she'd been prepping them for one of the many lavish dinners in the castle. That they would draw in small fish with the beauty of their light, before snapping them up.