Isabelle woke with the clanging bell. Trudging into the dinning hall with the weight of sleep still clinging to her eyes.

"Someone didn't get enough rest." John joked lightly, slopping a heap of porridge into her bowl. "Looks like you got popped in the face with those dark circles!" His brown eyes crinkled with an amused chuckle and far too much gusto for this hour of the day.

"Well, if it isn't the mouse whisperer," Jacqueline and her band of girls giggled as Isabelle walked past. "Are you not going to sit with us?" Jacqueline challenged and Isabelle thought it best not to anger her today. She followed a ways behind the group, taking a seat on the far left of the bench.

It had been a mistake.

Jaqueline spent the entire lunch hour teasing Isabelle about her talking friend. Word had spread like wildfire through the castle no thanks to the blonde chatter bird. 'A perversion of nature by that witch,' she called it. As if the rest of the castle isn't already damned. But Jaqueline could not leave well enough alone.

Isabelle kept her mouth busy with her food and when finished, silently rose and made her way to her daily duties. Not giving Jaqueline the satisfaction of knowing just how much her words had dug their way under her skin.

Most of the Blood Maids took this time to play games and socialize amongst themselves. Chess was a popular pastime. They would bet what few francs they had on games. Most would convene in Jacqueline's room for gossip and wine they'd snuck in their skits from a nobles room. And some poor souls were called upon by their nobles to serve early.

Isabelle had seen the cruel whip lashes across the backs of many girls while bathing. Crisscrossed ribbons of red and brown across a canvas of flesh. Some marks healing and some fresh. And after a while those faces were gone, replaced with new ones whose backs were a clean sheet to draw upon once again.

Not every girl was as lucky as Isabelle and very few had pleasant relationships with their nobles; their jealousy written in the cold glares and smirks she received. A few blood maids entertained lawn games in the afternoon. Isabelle had seen a few cat-like creatures playing cricket with a gaggle of blood maids. She would watch from the window with envy, at the fun. Until, she caught the glimpse of a poor blood maid beaten with the wooden mallet and she no longer had the longing to play.

Isabelle's daily routine was different from the girls. She would often spend her mornings in the kitchen. Helping John and the other scullery maids clean up after the morning's meal before making her way to the wash pits to say a quick greeting to Sarah. Sometimes sneaking her some kitchen sweets wrapped in her apron.

Some days she would be allowed to visit Rosie in the Throne room or the Green house depending on the king's mood.

Today Madame Gion had caught her with a feathery talon hand on her arm as she left the dining hall after breakfast. Ordering her back to her room for bed rest and instructing her to slit her wrists in her room before supper. Normally, she would cut them after dinner and a bath. Nobles liked their blood still warm. But it seemed her dark circles had caught the watchful eye of the Madame. The owl's yellow stare narrowed on her as she shut her in her room, missing her opportunity to sneak down to the kitchen or inquire about visiting Rosie.

She ran a finger over the ever growing raised scars on her thin wrists. She had gained a little weight since arriving, thanks to John stuffing her extra sweets and buns when he could. But it was not enough to abate the fatigue that set in after every time she filled her small cup. Perhaps she would be more alert for her time with Adam tonight, Isabelle thought before drifting off, curled up on her cot.

The dinner bell woke her from her slumber and after a quick meal she waded into the warm pool listening to the gossiping whispers flutter around her.

"It's almost the new moon." One girl commented, getting out of the water.

"Finally a break," another snorted, before dipping her head under the water to scrub the soap from her scalp.

"Did you hear? The Prince is holding the Sabot games again."

"I guess they have enough, then. I wonder who will be this year's lamb?" A curly brunette, with sharp eyes and a round face looked around the group.

"Like you have to ask," Jacqueline piped up. Isabelle felt a prickle up her spine as their eyes shifted to her.

She stepped out of the bath, taking a robe from one of the scullery maids waiting at the water's edge.

New moon? Sabot? Isabelle was curious to know the significance of these words but would rather wait to ask John or Anna in the kitchens than have to deal with Jacqueline's constant teasing.

🌙

True to his word, Adam was there when she knocked on the door that evening. Isabelle apologized for the cold meal. It was an odd thing to ask pardon for the state of one's blood. He waved it off, downing the goblet quickly before ushering her to the daybed where a stack of books already lay spread out for her choosing.

Isabelle marveled at the extensive collection before settling on the tale of Lancelot and Guinevere first. She had heard it had quite the scandalous ending.

Adam threw a few pillows on the floor, causing Isabelle to jump as she took up a position on the chase lounge by the window. She raised a questioning brow when he sat amongst the tasseled throw pillows on the floor.

"I fear it will not hold my weight as well," he confessed.

Isabelle snorted a giggle at such a phrase coming from a beast, a prince no less. "My apologies my lord I don't mean to offend, but what an odd thing to say."

Adam was quiet for a moment and she paled, fearing he had taken serious offense to her joke. He snorted, before grumbling out, "proceed."

Isabelle read aloud. Page after page until her throat was parched and the light through the window dimmed so much that she could no longer squint through the candlelight. Adam offered to walk her down the hall in a gentlemanly display, but Isabelle shook her head. It was a short trip back, and she had survived the nights thus far. God willing, she would again.

Isabelle sat alone at the mess hall the next day. Ignoring the mocking howls of Jacqueline's band of jackals. She noticed Sarah from across the room, laughing with a group of other blue dressed girls and smiled. She was happy for her, though a sliver of jealousy wiggled in her heart, wishing that she could join too.

The king had let her see Rosie today, who had apparently struck a bargain that allowed her to visit Isabelle during her blood maid duty. It was contingent on the condition that she come to the throne room and fetch Rosie herself like some shared meal passed back and forth but Isabelle was happy to oblige if it meant more time with her furry friend.

Isabelle brought her on her duties and though Adam huffed at the added body to their reading time he accepted her in as well. The trio spent the waning hours of day by the window-side off on far away adventures with the Knights of the Round Table. Her time with John and Anna in the mornings and Adam and Rosie in the evenings were the best parts of her day. But the teasing had gotten worse in the following weeks.

The more she ignored Jacqueline's provocations the more the girl and her band rose to get a rise out of her. The girls would spit in her food as they passed or push her back in the bathing pool as she was getting out. Some would tug at her long braids or giggle loudly amongst themselves as she passed the hall.

Was Jaqueline afraid she would tell the others of how she'd seen Henry treated her? Or perhaps it was simply because she had the attention of the king, thanks to Rosie and the ugly eye of jealousy was now turned on her.

She tried to pay them no mind. Her father had always said that true kindness was the capacity to forgive. She tried to understand their pain, forgive their petty jealousy. But, one night, after coming back from an enjoyable evening with Adam and Rosie she found her room in shambles. Her mattress ripped and slashed till it was nothing but a pile of loose straw, the armoire door ripped off and her water basin a broken pile of shards on the floor.

There was little in the way of valuables but she ran to the wooden cupboard anyway. Her one spare change of clothes and Adams cloak tucked underneath was still intact and she breathed a sigh of relief clutching the fabric to her chest as she stepped carefully over the damage.

It was time to move out.

Late at night with nothing but her pillow, spare set of clothes and Adams' cloak tucked to her chest, she made her way by candle to the kitchens and rapped on the door.

"I'm coming, I'm coming" The deep voice from the other side mumbled, the door swinging open to a half asleep perturbed John, his hair sticking up at odd angles and shirtless. Isabelle cast her eyes down but not before getting a glimpse of the ridges of hard muscle, in the candle glow.

"Well, this is a welcome surprise,'' John's face lit into a devilish grin. "Now what's a pretty lass like yourself knocking on my door at this wee hour of day?"

"Can I- May I stay here? My bed is no longer-I-uh- need a place to sleep."

"Say no more." John reached for her hand, gently tugging her in and closing the door behind them.

"What's all this fuss?!" Anna shone a lamp in Isabelle's face. "Oh dearie! What are you doing here?"

"She needed a place to sleep." John walked toward the back room.

"Is everything alright?" Anna grabbed Isabelle's hand, guiding her to sit by the large hearth fire. "How is-oh what did you call her-Rosie! How is she?"

"She is well, though I worry her luck might run out." Isabelle crouched by the fire to warm herself. "I did not think creatures had such bold personalities. The king has taken quite a liking to her, for now. I think he finds her unabashed way of speaking refreshing. I hope it lasts," she mumbled the last bit more to herself.

The witch cackled a throaty laugh. "Yes, it is often the smallest of creatures that have the most spark."

"How long will the spell last?" Isabelle hoped not for much longer, she would like her friend back. Or perhaps it was better that it lasted. Who could be sure what the king would do when his amusement waned.

"Should be good till the next new moon."

"I hope the king doesn't harm her then."

"Oh, I doubt he could then. On the new moon, that's when they-"

"Anna!" John came up behind-this time with a shirt on- carry a pile of blankets in his arms. "Perhaps it's better if she doesn't know. Curiosity killed the cat."

"Oh hush! You worry like an old man. I'm sure she's heard the gossip already," Anna grabbed the blankets from him as he took a seat on the chair and Isabelle helped her arrange them on the floor by the fire.

"What shouldn't I know?"

Anna and John exchanged looks before they seemed to come to some sort of agreement. John pulled up the other chair sitting beside the large crackling hearth.

He leaned in close, whispering like the walls themselves had ears. "The creatures keep it pretty hush from the humans, but apparently every night of the new moon when there is no light in the sky they turn human for a short while."

"Really?" Isabelle's face lit in a grin. She wondered what Adam, or even the king would look like. The faces beside her did not share her enthusiasm. Mouths turned down in matching frowns.

"Is that not a good thing? They get to be human again, even if for a short while."

"You haven't been here long enough, but you will know when the night comes." Anna pat her hand. "Madame Gion locks all the blood maids in a room, the scullery maids and us too. The creatures lock themselves in their rooms and wait till day. It is said that any human that has caught sight of their face has been thrown in prison, or killed. Best not to be curious dear."

"Old Robert, our stable keep, was tending to the horses and missed the lock up one night. Apparently, he saw a beautiful woman rushing down the halls. Tried to talk to her, he did, but she ran away quickly as a ghost. After he told me of the pretty lass, that was the last I ever saw of him. But a wheelbarrow left for the pits the next morning" John regaled the tale in a hushed whisper.

Isabelle nodded, the vision of the face on the wheelbarrow still deeply imprinted in her mind.

"But why would they not want to see people?" Isabelle was indeed too curious.

"Think child." The witch popped another log on the fire. "It's the one night they have no claws or fangs to protect them. One night they are as soft and vulnerable as any other human."

"The one night they fear retaliation may arise." John explained.

"-and so they hide like cowards. Fearfully all their power will be stripped away." Anna dusted her hands from the soot reaching for the bottle of wine popping the cork and pouring herself a glass before passing it to John. He took a swig offering it to Isabelle, who shook her head.

"Don't they want to be human again though?" Isabelle looked between their long faces.

"When you've lived in the dark for too long it's the light you come to fear. That's why it's better to make plans in the back of the theater when the world is watching the stage."

"Anna!" John pinned her with a hard stare, taking another swig from the bottle. "Remember what we said."

"Oh, yes yes. Not yet, I know." Isabelle cocked her head, Anna's cryptic message lost on her.

Now she was very curious. John turned from her questioning gaze, running fingers through his sandy brown hair that looked almost golden in the amber glow.

'Well, time for bed," Anna clapped her hands together. "Just got the two beds in the back there. Most of the kitchen girls sleep with other maids down the hall, but you're always welcome to sleep here, dear. It should be warm enough by the fire."

"Thank you." Isabelle wrapped her arms around the old woman, surprising her with the display of affection.

"You're too kind for this place child." Anna cupped her face with a smile before turning in for the night.

"What, no hug for me?" John opened his massive arms wide with a cheeky grin. Isabelle flushed. "Was only a joke, Lass," he added, seeing her rosy cheeks.

It was rather improper but Isabelle grabbed his hand as he walked past and squeezed it as a sort of compromise. "Thank you."

John peeled his hand away, rubbing the back of his neck. "Nothin to thank me for. Just let me know if you need more blankets there. And don't go trying to peep a look in my room," he added with a sly grin. "I'm rather bashful." He batted his eyelashes playfully, earning a giggle from Isabelle.

"Yes. I won't," she promised.

"Quit yer wooing boy and let the girl sleep!" Anna hollered from the back room.

John rolled his eyes and mouthed a good night before disappearing into the back room.