The outside of the castle dwarfed her small frame, and she craned her neck to get a view of its spires. Stone stretched up as far as the eye could see. Intricate carvings of knights on their charges, brandishing swords toward dragons and curled horned demons with gaping mouths weaved a dark tale over its arches.

There was one creature in particular that reminded her of the beast in front of her. A stone head hanging just above the pointed arch of the door. Its gaping wolf-like mouth could gobble a child whole while gray stone eyes looked down on her with a hungry glare.

Dull suits of armor, which had long since lost their shine, flanked either side of the entrance with sharp-tipped spears that pointed to the cloudless night.

An armored helmet creaked, its rusted gaze turning her way. A mouse-like squeak parted Isabelle's lips as she shuffled back in fright, until the feel of Adam's claw-tipped fingers poked into her back. She tried to peer through the slats to gauge what type of creature could be lurking inside, but the large metal coverings kept her guessing.

"Sire." The armor tipped its covered head her way, nodding his respects, and tickling her curiosity. It was the second creature that night to address her new master with such decorum.

The other suit of armor twisted its torso with a creak, pulling at one of the iron latched handles on the right of the grand double wooden doors. Ironwork vines snaked around the hinges and outer frame of the door inviting passage and reminding Isabelle more of an overgrown garden trellis than the entrance to the house of the damned.

Adam pressed her forward into its stone arched mouth, swallowing them both. It took her eyes a moment to adjust to the dim candle-lit foyer. A grand chandelier cast flickers of lights across the high porcelain bricked ceiling like tiny dancers across a gray curtain.

It was far cleaner than she had expected. She wasn't sure why she thought it would be dusty, filled with cobwebbed corners and cloth-covered couches like a forgotten summer home. Instead, it was bright despite the low lighting. White bricked walls stretched all the way to the arched ceilings while pillars rose up on either side of the foyer creating a path to a rather grand-looking set of double doors with figures guarding either side casting long shadows that stretched their fingers on the white marbled floor.

The pillars veered left and right down wide halls that stretched into darkness. Spirals of leaf-covered vines decorated their columns, carrying inside the same pattern as the iron filigree on the entrance. The palace was opulent, even under the cover of twilight.

The door slammed shut behind them, echoing rumbles of thunder down the halls of the grand space that would soon be her living tomb.

The massive paw pressed at her back, guiding them down the left corridor. She scarcely had time to take in the curved windows that gave passing glimpses to the world outside. A glass-domed building behind the castle. A courtyard fountain.

One window showed a torch-lit garden, hedges tall as the creature beside her, and curving paths leading behind green veils of shrub, tempting her to take a stroll through its mysteries.

She continued on for a step before she noticed Adam stopped in front of an arched wooden door, not nearly as grand as the ones before.

He gave a soft rap, and the door creaked open. A middle-aged woman poked her head out. She had soft, round cheeks and warm brown eyes that filled with surprise.

"M-my lord," the woman stammered, fiddling with the white bonnet atop her head and trying to tuck the stray auburn curls peaking out. She was entirely human, and Isabelle was grateful for it.

"Tilly, get her some clothes and take her to Madame Gion."

The woman looked over at Isabelle and straightened, widening her door. "I thought Nadine was bringing back the new batch?"

"This one is to be my blood maid since the last one was..."

Blood maid? Her stomach coiled at the title.

The old woman's eyebrows rose in understanding. "Ah. Of course, Sire. Come, come in, dearie." Tilly reached out to grab Isabelle's hands and gasped as she led her inside. "My! Your hands are ice, my dear! Come, let's get you warmed by the fire. We need to get that blood pumping!"

Isabelle turned to look behind her, getting a final glimpse of the ruby eyes that had brought her here, but he was gone.

He Disappeared as silent as a whisper, but the lingering feeling of his shadow at her back clung like a wet shirt.

"Where did he-?"

Tilly poked her face out the door, sparing a glance down the hall before closing it shut.

"Oh don't mind him, dearie. He prefers to be left alone." There was something almost pitiful in her tone. But that couldn't be right. Who could pity the ones that made their chains?

Tilly led her to an open doorway opposite the one they'd come from. The decor was sparse here; it looked like the servants' corridors.

She almost tripped when Tilly turned a sharp corner down some stairs and into the bowels of the castle. They stopped inside a large steamy room lit with rows of oil lamps flickering off every wall.

"Here we are, dear. Let's find you something to wear," Tilly said as she made for the back of the room.

A large pool of hot water sent up steam through a hole in the lofty ceiling as thin women with ashen faces and sunken eyes scrubbed linen on wooden washboards. The strong scent of Lye soap tickled her nose. They stopped almost in unison, watching the pair as they walked by.

"You're such a scrawny thing; let's see if we can find something that will fit," Ms. Tilly mulled, rummaging through a pile of red clothing. "Ah. Here we are."

She shook out a calf-length red dress and a matching white apron, holding it up in front of Isabelle with a thoughtful expression.

"Yes, that should do." Tilly nodded, seeming to speak more to herself, as the rotund woman deposited the clothes in Isabelle's fumbling hands. Before she could adjust the fabric Tilly was off again, head inclining over her shoulder briefly, gesturing her to follow.

Tilly took the spiral staircase up this time, climbing several flights. It felt like more. Despite the woman's stocky frame, she moved swiftly, pausing every so often for Isabelle to catch up. She stopped at one of the landings with a simple wooden door, holding it open for Isabelle to walk through first.

It was another grand corridor. Candlelight flickered up to play off the vaulted ceilings that mirrored the foyer.

Gothic pillars held up large stone archways, lined with stained glass windows veiling the world outside. They filtered the moonlight's gleam leaving a patchwork of colour cascading onto the floors and walls. Intricate stories lined each colourful panel of painted glass, and Isabelle found herself staring at them in awe.

As they passed the beautiful art, her world leached back into shades of grey, so too did she feel exhaustion sink in. Her legs felt weak with the lack of food and rest as she dragged one foot in front of the other down the seemingly endless hallway. To fill the silence, Tilly talked about the history behind the castle's carved archways and painted windows. When Isabelle had asked how long she had worked at the palace, the older woman smiled with a cryptic reply. "It seems like a lifetime." Isabelle's hopes that she might one day leave this place, not on a wheelbarrow, sank.

It felt like an eternity before they arrived at the maids' quarters of the west wing. Tilly stopped in front of one of the heavy-set doors.

"Here we are, the headmistress's office. She's in charge of all the blood maids. You'll be in her care from now on." Ms. Tilly knocked on the door. Blood Maid. The sound of it left an awful taste in her mouth.

She had been too afraid to ask Ms. Tilly what her work would entail, but she was sure she'd find out soon.

"Enter," came a low melodic voice from the other side.

Tilly turned the knob, revealing a large office. The back wall was lined with floor-to-ceiling bookshelves, and in front of it sat a large oak desk. There, seated in the chair, was a terribly captivating monster.

Tilly patted her apron as if to shake any remnants of dust before stepping into the spacious office, Isabelle in tow.

"I've brought you a blood maid and got her uniform, all ready to go."

Isabelle stared unabashedly at the mystifying creature before her. White feathers plumed gracefully from her cheeks and face, while on top of her head, the feathers gradually faded down into long white tresses of hair that stopped just above a feathery collar bone. Ribbed spectacles framed large black eyes, sitting atop a thin nose that came to a point, almost like a beak. She had distinctly human lips and ears, and from atop her head, two small horns capped in gold shimmered in the candle-lit room. She exuded a sense of importance, the same kind of commanding regality that Isabelle's father once held.

The creature stood up from behind the desk, striding gracefully towards the pair—feathered arms swaying from within her wide-sleeved blue dress. She stopped in front of Isabelle, looking down at her.

"Hm. A little skinny to be a blood maid, no?" Madame Gion walked around Isabelle with an inspecting eye—just as the crow woman had—and arrived at the same conclusion. "She is not fit as a blood maid."

"Take her to the scullery quarters. She would do well as a laundress. Or the kitchen. They could use a pair of hands." Madame Gion turned away.

"It was the Commander who brought her," Ms. Tilly explained, bringing Madame Gion to a stop. "She is to be his personal maid."

The Madame gave a huff. Twirling on her heels with a swish of her gown, she made for the door, beckoning to Isabelle. "Come with me."

Isabelle fell into step behind the feathered headmistress, walking further down the corridor. A few curious human heads poked out of their rooms as she walked by. Girls that looked of a similar age to her own. All clad in red dresses.

"Breakfast is promptly at sunrise in the West Hall, and dinner is at dusk immediately after feeding. You are to be in the hall to prepare when the bell rings."

Isabelle opened her mouth to ask when exactly was sunrise when the sky seemed to only dress in shades of grey and black. But a sharp slide-eyed glance her way kept it shut.

"This is your room." The woman stopped abruptly in front of a small wooden door turning to face Isabelle, glowering over her. "You are, under no circumstance, allowed to be out after the final bell. When the moon rises above the towers," she expanded, at Isabelle's quizzical look.

"I will leave you to rest from your journey." Madame Gion opened the door, motioning for Isabelle to walk in. "In the morning, you will get the chance to cleanse yourself. For now, you need to rest and let your blood recuperate."

Blood. Was she to be eaten then, like all the horrific tales?

"Yes, Madame," Isabelle croaked out, her throat sore from its earlier retching at the sight of the wheelbarrow. Her stomach churned anew.

"Remember, be in the hall when the bell rings."And with that, Madame Gion slammed the door shut, leaving her in the cold, damp room. Alone.

Everything had happened so fast that Isabelle realized she hadn't had the chance to ask where it was she was supposed to go, but she had faith in her abilities that she would adapt or at least find someone who could show her, reminded of the other curious girls' faces she had passed in the hall. Surely they would know the way.

She pivoted around taking in the space. It was small, furnished with a single raised bed tucked in the far right corner by the window. The straw mattress flattened with use, pieces of old musty straw poking out at the frayed corners and spilling to the wooden floor below.

There was a small armoire for clothing on the left wall and a night table to the left of the bed that held an empty washbasin and an equally empty jug. The room was fairly clean and quiet, save for the straw on the floor and the thin covering of dust on the furniture, signaling the lapse of time between inhabitants. But, she was grateful for a space to call her own.

A movement in her hood made her gasp."Oh, Rosie!" She almost forgot about her friend stuck in the oversized hood of Adam's cloak.

She plucked out the little white mouse, placing her on the covered straw mattress of her bed. "I'm terribly sorry. You must have had such a fright!"

Rosie scurried around the area, her tiny nose twitching and sniffing as they both inspected their latest surroundings.

"This is our new home." Isabelle smiled weakly at her friend, placing her new clothes in the empty washbasin for now. "What do you think?" The mouse sat up on her hind paws, offering a small squeak of approval. "Yes, it's quite cozy," Isabelle responded.

She glanced at her new clothes, wishing to slip into something cleaner, but her body was absolutely filthy. Madame Gion did say she would get a chance to bathe in the morning. She just had to hold on for a little more. She took off the Beast's cloak, hoping not to stain it any further with her dirty clothes. The bottom was already covered with mud and dirt from being dragged behind her. Perhaps she could ask someone for the way back to the laundry room tomorrow. It was such an awfully big place she couldn't be sure she'd remember all the twists and turns correctly.

Isabelle carefully folded the cloak, placed it in the closet and then crawled on the bed to join her friend. At least she wasn't completely alone. Rosie squeaked, running up to curl down next to Isabelle's shoulder.

The weight of the past few events set in, and Isabelle's lids grew heavy with exhaustion. She closed her eyes, her body curled around her small companion, pulling the thin sheet over them and letting sleep claim her tired limbs.