"Don't tell me the moon is shining; show me the glint of light on broken glass."
-Anton Chekhov

I awoke in a strange space. Curtains of inky darkness covered all the windows as if someone had draped a veil of black over my vision. I blinked and rubbed my eyes, trying to adjust to any form of daybreak.

My first task each morning began with mentally assessing my body to ensure my appendages were in place. Nothing seemed unusual, but my muscles ached and cemented as if I hadn't moved an inch in days.

I sat up from what I lay on, unsure if it was a mattress. It felt too unfamiliar for one, yet it wasn't a mat on the floor. I explored the area within arm's reach and found the smooth warmth of a blanket I must have kicked off.

I couldn't recall how I ended up in this situation. I remembered sliding into the black SUV with my Master and being buckled into my seat by one of the massive men at the Queen's side. My head had lolled to the side as the adrenaline finally left my system, leaving me lethargic.

It surprised me how out of it I must have been. I'd never slept soundly with people around me, alone profoundly enough to be moved to a different environment.

I touched my body and found myself in different clothes—simple but soft silk attire. My skin appreciated the smooth fabric rubbing against it throughout the night. A sliver of light appeared near the floor. I assumed it came from the door.

I stood up, wavering and unbalanced in the unfamiliar darkness. I walked heel to toe toward the entrance, careful not to step on anything and trying to be as quiet as possible. I laid my hand on the knob, took a deep breath, and debated whether it be wise to explore my new surroundings without permission. After a brief hesitation, I grasped the cold metal and twisted.

As soon as I opened the barrier, a bright glare blinded me. I stepped out of the doorway, hoping my pupils would quickly adjust to the darkness behind me. Unfortunately, my sight couldn't acclimate to the rash onslaught, and I collided with another human-esque figure.

The obstacle knocked me to the floor, and the immense size of the figure frightened me. I could make out the outline of an arm reaching towards me, and the fear sent a shiver down my spine.

The person paused at my reaction. "I won't hurt you. I'm sorry for not paying attention to where I was going."

My eyebrows shot up as I examined the significant figure's feminine details. More astonishingly, my vision cleared to reveal vibrant purple hair that faded to snowy white at the ends.

Her mouth held a polite smile, but her eyes filled with concern. "You're the new girl, aren't you? Madelyn?"

I nodded absentmindedly. The use of my name sent a wave of shock through my mind. Her hand extended toward me. I stopped my flinch but paused. The woman wiggled her fingers in invitation. Slowly, I reached out and connected with her. Once she clasped my hand tightly, she yanked me up. I went airborne, and my stomach leaped into my throat.

"My name is Becca," she said, trying to keep me steady.

Her clothing matched her hair: a simple shirt in the same shade of purple and white pants, stains mainly concentrated around the knees. Her battered gloves and work boots showed signs of heavy use, but the scars captured my attention most. Her neck was covered with crescent-shaped teeth marks, some overlapping others. I wanted to reach out and touch them, but I didn't.

Becca cleared her throat and tucked her chin when she noticed where my gaze focused. "I was on my way to work in the gardens."

The mention of such a simple task made my mouth pop open in surprise, causing an amused grin to return to her face.

She shifted her stance from one foot to the other, looking uncertain. After a sigh, she gestured to the exit opposite the room. "Would you want me to show you around a little? I should probably take you to Nan, the help coordinator. She'll explain everything you need to know about being here and answer any questions. She's a nice lady but can be mean as a snake. So stay polite."

I followed her to the door she had indicated, staying as close to her back as I could without touching her. The idea of getting answers intrigued me more than a grand tour, but I knew that keeping quiet and doing as told stood my best bet.

The tall woman pointed to an ornate frame centered on the threshold. "Every entryway is labeled, even private quarters. I think the only places that don't have a label are those in the Royal Wing. We're not allowed there under any circumstances unless invited, which doesn't happen."

The plaque before us read 'Foyer,' and she opened the door. On the opposite side of the wood, it read 'Worker Quarters,' and I made a mental note of this helpful information.

The space we entered left me stunned. The decor was perfectly arranged, with nothing out of place. The designs flowed effortlessly, and someone color-coordinated them in creams and browns. We stood at the top of a grand staircase, where two elegant swirling staircases met.

"The middle door leads to our private quarters, where we just came from. The left wing is off-limits; that's the Master's private area. The right wing is where the recreation locations and Nan's office are. Downstairs and to the left are the common rooms, where everyone usually relaxes at the end of the day, and a large, beautiful ballroom they rarely use. To the right are the kitchens, the greenroom, the dining room, and the path leading to the gardens."

I tried to commit everything she said to memory, knowing I didn't want to get lost in a place where I existed to be biological prey.

Becca started walking down the right corridor. We passed entrance after entrance, each labeled. I tried to pay attention to everyone, but there were too many. A library, music chamber, and painting enclosure piqued my curiosity.

With her purple hair swaying behind her, Becca was a whirlwind of energy bouncing around the halls that were now my home. During our tour, she spoke freely about herself, sharing stories without my prompting. The woman told me she was born in the castle and proudly recounted the many secrets she had overheard simply by staying unseen in the corners. I had to admit that curiosity almost got the better of me, but I didn't want to get wrapped up in the pointless politics of a species that wasn't my own. She also explained the dynamics of the royal family.

"You have Queen Helen and her husband, Gustav. The royal line comes from Queen Helen, who holds more power than her mate, even though he has the title of King. Her older brother was offered the power but refused." She shrugged and glanced back at me. "Who knows why someone would give up such power and a life of luxury?"

Becca continued explaining the royal princesses and princes. Princess Roni, the eldest of the royal heirs, made herself infamous by destroying a village over heartbreak. According to Becca, she has since repented and is now living an extraordinary life as a nomad, visiting from time to time.

Prince Blane, the youngest of the siblings, was known for his trickster ways in both the supernatural and human realms. He spent most of his life devising devious plans and not taking his roles seriously. Despite this, Becca described him with admiration, suggesting that she found him attractive. However, she warned me to be cautious around him as he showed no discrimination in his tricks, as if I wouldn't be wary of any vampire in my path.

Prince Jaxon, the next in line for the throne, is the most diplomatic and aloof of the siblings. Although he is the oldest biologically, he chose to transform once he aged well past his mid-twenties. Becca laughingly joked that he was a ghost in the house, almost a myth.

"He's pretty much never seen unless needed," she said. "He might appear in the kitchens every once in a while or out in the gardens, but he doesn't interact. Whenever I saw him, he stood there and silently assessed everyone."

The tour ended at a large wooden door labeled "Management." Becca took a deep breath and glanced at me. "This might seem overwhelming, but remember that Nan manages over five hundred people daily."

With that statement, I paused for a breath and followed her inside. Instantly, I could see what she meant. Papers littered everywhere—tacked to the walls, scattered across the floor, and even lodged in an empty birdcage hanging from a shelf. Amid the disorganization, an older woman shouted, back pressed to a desk stacked with documents. One hand shielded her face while the other pressed a small device to her ear.

"No. NO. Roslow. I swear to the heavens, if you so much as take one step outside your post, I will have you shackled in the basement. Don't fucking test me!" She yanked the device from her ear and glared. "Becca. What? Why aren't you in the gardens? You were supposed to start work over fifteen minutes ago!"

Becca stiffened, her complexion turning a shade paler. Nan's gaze shifted to me. Her posture softened with recognition. "Thank you for bringing her to me. You can go now. I'll handle it from here."

Becca nodded and glanced at me. "I hope you'll enjoy it here. I know it's been tough. I've been through something similar. My previous Master before the royals took me back..." Her expression faltered, a hint of sadness dimming her irises. "Anyway, see you around!"

She gave the greying woman a quick hug and exited. I glanced back at Nan. She turned her body to face the exit and leaned against her desk, using her palms for support. Her smile, filled with care after Becca's departure, tugged at sorrow deep inside me. The tenderness in her countenance made my eyes sting with phantom tears. I had long ago accepted that I would never see my family again, but the act tugged at scabs never healed.

After the latch clicked shut, Nan's gaze shifted. Her smile, now directed at me, took my breath away. It reminded me of my mother—the woman who had raised me from the age of three after she adopted me from the orphanage where I had been abandoned. I missed her more than I cared to admit.

"Hello, Madelyn. I'm Nan. It's such a pleasure to meet you officially." She extended her arm towards me.

I walked over and placed my hand in hers. The pressure steadying my nerves with comfort—contact from someone who had no intention of harming me sparked a surge of confidence I didn't know I still possessed. I smiled back.

Nan shook my hand once, then released it. She dropped her look and moved behind her desk to sit in the one chair that lacked paper coverage.

"Now, as I'm sure Becca mentioned, I'm the Schedule Coordinator for everyone in this building. Since you're new, you'll have a week to settle and familiarize yourself with our rules and policies. After that week, you'll take a placement test to determine where your skills best fit within the Manor."

"Skills." The word left my mouth in a breath, and my mind drifted back to the life I once knew. I used to be someone—someone with purpose. I was a magazine editor, shaping words into stories and giving people insight into the world through glossy pages. I thrived in the organization, knowing where every piece fit and making sense of mayhem.

Now, how could those skills help me here? Was there a place for creativity in servitude? Could something as mundane as arranging articles translate to whatever strange tasks awaited me? And cooking—would that be my saving grace? Could tasks such as preparing a meal offer me a sliver of control in a life where I had none?

The elderly woman looked at me, concerned, and allowed me time to ponder. "Everyone has skills, darling. That's what the test is for. Even if you don't know what you can do, we can find it, and I promise you that everyone has a talent to offer."

Nan started reviewing the house introductions, which included some history, policies, and what they expected of us. She outlined my schedule for the upcoming weeks and explained what would follow my placement as I adjusted to life here. The hours passed quickly, and soon Nan glanced at her watch, stifling a yawn.

"I have to prepare for the Masters who need my assistance," she said, handing me a welcome packet and some paperwork. "Maddie, you're going to be okay here. You're as strong as your mother—and more."

She smiled warmly, closed her eyes, and gestured for me to return to the quarters to study my manual.

Walking down the hallway, I noticed a clock on the wall. The hands counted nearly midnight, and the weariness in my body made sense as I stifled yet another yawn.

Vampires were most active at night, and maintenance and upkeep occurred daily to ensure the Masters were comfortable during their hours. Nan explained that vampires in this realm didn't burn in sunlight, but the human world would hurt them if they stayed in the rays.

Their adaptation to night hunting long predated the creation of portals between worlds. Though they didn't burn here, the sun irritated their hypersensitive pupils. They preferred the night, so keeping to routines that had lasted millennia made sense.

Lost in my thoughts, reflecting on my first day, I realized this was the first time since my training at the Academy began that I hadn't experienced any form of pain or abuse. The unfamiliar comfort made my heart race—then I overheard voices nearby.

"The daughter? Really? That hardly seems safe," a tone echoed with irritation.

"That's what I overheard Becca saying. The Queen personally brought her here last night," replied another quieter whisper, with a lazy drawl hinting at his disinterest in the conversation.

"Wonderful. The Queen's intimate attention. This situation is going to get ugly. You know the King won't be happy about it. You remember how much he hated Marie." he spoke the name with disgust.

My feet locked at the edge of the corner. Marie was the name Andrea had given to the Queen. Was that my birth mother's name?

"You know why, Draven. It wasn't her fault, and she lived as a wonderful woman. Or have you forgotten how many lives she saved before her own was finally taken? Don't be rude just because Marie didn't return your feelings." The quiet voice grew more defensive.

The other man growled low.

A door slammed open, and a woman's vibrato cut through the tension. "Harley! Draven! Come on, you slackers. We have to start the patrol."

I stood silently, unable to piece together what I'd just heard. My mother? Was she connected to the Queen but hated by the King? Some random vampire had been in love with her, so much so that his feelings continued to cause pain even after her death. She had saved people. But who? Humans or vampires? Both?

My legs carried me down the corridor, and with the welcome packet clutched tightly to my chest, my thoughts swirled in an endless loop. Eventually, I reached the top of the staircases and paused.

I shook my head, frustrated, after trying and failing to turn the knob. Finally, I opened the door and entered the main room. I could see groups gathered, talking near open living quarters without the earlier blinding light.

I planned to slip to my room with my head down to avoid making eye contact, but once more, I bumped into someone.

"Maddie! How was your day?" Becca stood outside my doorway, towering over me with her impressive height and genuine smile that I couldn't help but grin back. Dirt smeared her face and clothes, but she didn't care.

"Well, clean compared to yours," I said low. Becca let out a bark of laughter.

"Yes, it seems. I can stop by for breakfast tomorrow. We can get some together, and then I can take you to the gardens. It's my day off, and I love going back there to see my handiwork." She winked at me. "I'm pretty proud of it if I do say so."

Everything about her personality made me calm and relaxed. That added to the joy of enduring a day without pain, and I felt terrific. I agreed and wished her goodnight.

I stepped inside my new space for the rest of my life. It was cozy, with its fireplace and an offset lavatory. The curtains that had blinded me earlier in the day were now open, and I noted how thick and beautiful they were, embroidered with swirls on every inch.

Becca mentioned during the tour that every window in the estate had metal shutters on the outside that closed as soon as the sun started to rise, more for security than to keep out sunlight. Vampires are very vulnerable while they sleep. Thankfully, the area came equipped with various lamps.

The cot from earlier was gone, replaced by a large bed with a note placed on it.

Maddie,

I hope you find this living space to be adequate. I decorated it the way your mother had her room when she lived here. You look incredibly similar to her, you know. I would love to get together and talk a bit whenever you're ready. I can't wait to get to know you.

-Helen

I finished reading it and took a breath. I didn't realize I held it in my lungs. It was signed "Helen," without any title of Queen or even her royal seal. I looked around the enclosure, my mother occupying my thoughts. I couldn't picture her face; the Academy had separated us when I turned three, too early for memories to solidify.

After a hot shower, I discovered a closet full of beautiful clothes, including more silk outfits. I laid down on the mattress. Everything was like a fantastic dream—in ways I never expected. Lingering worry settled in the back of my mind as if morning would rip it all away. I feared I would wake up back in the Academy with Taric's knife against my throat. With that thought, I fell asleep.

Startled, I bolted upright in the darkness. I ran to the bathroom, my stomach emptying as I leaned my head on the cold porcelain. It took a few minutes for my heart to slow and my panic to settle.

I always had nightmares, but the latest one registered more real than ever. So many hands on my body, so many blades dripping with blood—my blood. Every slice burned my flesh, and every sinister laugh vibrated through my soul.

I finally left the toilet, keeping the light on as I crawled back into bed. The covers were warm but damp with my sweat. Curling up in a dry spot, I tried to clear my mind as much as possible. Unease drifted alongside my fleeting slumber, a tingling itch at my hidden sixth sense as if someone watched me from the shadows.

I opened my eyes to the ceiling and bolted upright. I could have sworn a figure stood in the corner nearest the bathroom. I held a scream in my throat and clicked on the lamp beside me as quickly as I could manage.

The space was empty in the glow, though a lingering loneliness washed over me. My mind played tricks on me; even in the safest environment, it seemed I would constantly be tormented.

With a muffled sigh, I clicked off the light and drifted into a shallow but uneventful slumber.

Maddie seems to be in shock about how her life will be from now on. Was she alone in her room? Who or what do you think was there?

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FINAL EDIT: 01/25/25
I will not edit this again on Wattpad. Any further changes will be kept in a published-only version.