The intricate iron gates loomed in front of the short woman with long dirt brown hair. The flowery details intertwined with grapevines giving the entryway a realistic aura, but that didn't stop the girl from shaking as she opened the heavy gate. She walked through the garden before finding the wooden door described in the letter she received earlier that day. The newly risen sun reflected off the dew covered grass. She gently pulled the creaky door open, oblivious to the watchful blue eyes following her every move.

****

"This is the kitchen where you will eat most of your meals, but I would stay away from the mystery meatloaf on Thursdays. It has been known to give newcomers indigestion." The plump, curly white-haired woman said in a slight Irish accent. She pulled the woman through the basement, showing her the odds and ends of the castle where the girl would be working.

"I never caught your name young lady. Would you be so kind as to repeat it? Mine is Mrs. O'Neil, but you can just call me Ms. Dorris, I've never been one for formalities," The old woman turned around before going through another doorway.

"Katie. Katie Gardner." The young woman answered as Ms. Dorris turned back around leading both of them to the castle grounds.

"What a lovely name for a lovely face." The old woman said in an afterthought while taking Katie to a small wooden shed secluded by the castle's shadow. The hair on her neck began to stand on end, sending a disturbing chill through her spine. Ms. Dorris took out a small brass key opening the door. Katie stepped into the musty shed.

The stale air entered her nose and left through her mouth filtering out the dust. She wiped her finger along the unused selves, wiping the collected dirt on the front of her dress. She turned smiling at Ms. Dorris.

"Thank you." She planned on giving the old woman a million praise because nothing could ever measure up to the kindness she had given Katie. But the simple phrase was enough, for Katie's gratitude showed through every movement. The white-haired woman gently smiled as she watched Katie look around the abandoned gardening shed.

****

The prince shoved the thick, heavy blankets off, trying to rid himself of the object interfering with his sleep. He slipped into a light over shirt, before putting on his robe and walking out to the balcony. He felt the chill of the autumn air cool his feverish skin.

Closing his eyes he embraced the pleasant silence that enveloped him, but the pleasant lack of noise was interrupted by the shuffling of feet against the cobblestone walkway. He hesitated to open his eyes, hoping that the noise would disappear, giving him the silence back. The noise didn't go away, and eventually, he had no choice but to see what was causing the disturbance.

The woman moved down the path, heading for the iron gates leading to the servant entrance and the castle gardens, not that there was much of a garden anymore. Perhaps she was a new maid coming for one of the outer villages, forced to arrive at night just to be on time for her first day.

Though she didn't look like a maid, or like most females for that matter. Most women, aristocrats or villagers, were always short and full bodied, but not the woman walking down the path. She was tall and thin, though I don't think the thin came from her parents. But that didn't take away from the subtly of her looks. She had high cheekbones and sunken eyes. Her hair was dark brown and wavy, but dull and lifeless, not reflecting the moonlight. She could have been something

That didn't stop her from walking with her shoulders back and chin up. But her posture bent over slightly everytime she stepped closer to the looming gate. She hesitated to grab the handle, taking in a visible breath before opening the gate and stepping onto the castle grounds.

He couldn't sleep that night. Not from physical discomfort but from an unsettled mind.

****

Katie awoke, breathing rapidly, her dream still dancing before her eyes. The footsteps entering the house, the voice calling out, the smell of dust as she hid under her bed. The memories burned like a fresh cut, but some wounds had to be ignored. She pushed the thin, scratchy blanket off getting up in the closet of a room. Putting on her only pants and loose cotton shirt and grabbing her tool bag, she walked down the servant corridor towards the kitchen.

Workers were only allowed breakfast and dinner but that didn't bother Katie. She was used to eating far less.

She picked an apple before exiting the castle and going towards the gardening shed.

She set her bag down, entering the shed as she began organizing her tool onto the vacant shelves. The work was dull but satisfying. The shed was just big enough for everything to fit symmetrically. She brushed her hands on her tan pants feeling the hand-sewn stitch lines, before picking up a small bag filled with gardening tools.

Her role at the castle was to garden the east wing. The latest gardener died of natural causes, found dead in his room. She was told upon arrival that the east wing was rarely visited, is the only part of the castle without a flower garden. She exhaled a sigh of relief when she heard. She preferred to garden alone.

She walked over to the nearest grove of maple trees, getting to work on clearing out the underbrush. Her job was to keep the grounds neat and clean, ready at all times for a member of the royal family who wanted to take a stroll.

She continued trimming and pulling, and watering until it was time for dinner. She pushed off her knees, a little sore from being in the same position for hours on end. Katie turned around and looked up at the castle high above her. She noticed the quick closing of a curtain, from one of the many windows along the third floor. She shook her head trying to rid herself of the image of the striking blue eyes that flashed just before the curtains moved.

****

Dinner was boring, you could only hear the clinks of spoons against the bowl as the servants ate the butter squash soup laid before them. Once Katie was dismissed she walked back to her room and changed into appropriate bed wear.

She laid in the rock bed, pulling the scratchy wool blanket up to her chin. She dreaded this part of the day. She knew what sleep entailed. The haunting dreams that endlessly continued, even after you awoke. Dreams that weren't even dreams at all, but tainted memories branded into the forefront of your mind. Sleep, the perfect prison, always having you come back for more.

****

He watched her work for days. Her gentle craftsmanship was enthralling. She never faltered, always knowing what needed to be done next, and anyone could tell she enjoyed the work. The small smile never leaving her lips.

He watched through the curtain of his bedroom, his eyes never leaving her small form.

Eventually, a servant sent by his mother entered the room reminding him of dinner. There was a special guest coming, most likely another one of his mother's plans to marry him off to the most suitable women. Though this had happened before, these instances were becoming more and more frequent as his mother grew more and more desperate.

He told the servant off, stating he would be down in the drawing room at a quarter past five. He heard the door click closed before glancing one more time at the women pulling weeds.

He entered the velvet room filled with pompous women wearing corsets much too tight and men boasting over preposterous deeds. Letting out an inaudible sigh he pulled his mouth into a tight lip smile before stepping to greet the first guest.

Having drinks was bearable, having dinner was excruciating. He was sat next to his mom's newest endeavor. A lady of noble blood from a kingdom known for vain, greedy women.

She was short and petite, eating only enough to sustain. Only talking about how beautiful the castle is how she wished she lived here, batting her eyelashes at the prince. Her cheekbones sat too low and rounded, her hair not dark enough, too shiny.

The dinner concluded and the prince walked towards his room. He stopped a servant before they entered a hidden stairway, asking a favor.

Today might have been dull and boring, but tomorrow is another day.

****

It was the same dream. The voice always found her. No matter where she hid, the voice would follow.

Katie sat on the stool nibbling on the piece of bread handed to her by Ms. Dorris. She shoved the small slice into her pocket before stepping out the door and towards the shed.

She harshly pulled at the invading weed, wiping the sweat off her brow after finishing. She stayed in the slighter cooler air underneath the apple trees shade. The apples were almost ripe.

She was about to push off her knee to stand but the pair of feet landing in front of her after swinging off the main tree branch surprised her. Katie stared at the frayed shoes and the patchwork pants. Her eyes slowly drifted up, to see a loose white shirt draped over a lean body. The face was masculine with dirty blond hair falling in tight curls on the forehead. The thing she stared at longest was the eyes. An ice blue swirled with faint greens and yellows. They reminded her of closing curtains.
He stepped forward offering his hand to help her up. She left his hand in mid air as she stood. This didn't discourage him.

"Travis, my name is Travis," he spoke. His voice like wind pushing against a large stone. Powerful, but ineffective. She look his statement as rhetorical, trying to step around to go to the next tree. His hand shot out blocking her way.

"Katie," she spoke softly pushing past him. He stared dumbfounded, a grin spreading across his face. His even white teeth showing, something uncommon among servants. He grabbed an apple from above, taking a bite.

The name rolled off the tongue, he couldn't have thought of a better one for her. He watched as she rubbed the back of her neck yawning before kneeling on the ground and continuing her work. He threw the unnaturally green fruit into a nearby bush. She chuckled, watching from the corner of her eye.

The sun had gone down before she realized she had spent hours finely grooming the dirt around a maple tree. She stood stretching with a yawn and heading inside. She missed dinner, but felt the slice of bread in her pocket. She crawled into her bed.

It seemed to droop less. She pulled the blanket up to her chin blocking out the cold. The blanket seemed thicker, softer like the one she saw maids carry up to the guest rooms. Her eyes slowly closed.

Katie didn't dream of the voice. She dreamt of the void. The swirling nothingness that lulled her into the perfect night's sleep. 

(1894)