The carriage shook uncontrollably, spinning through the rainy evening. The horses neighed in panic, yet still they sped on.
The footman screamed above the deafening storm, "M'lord... the storm grows heavier. The horses won't make it to the main city. The chasers we've lost em. M'lord? M'lady?"
No answer came.
At the next town, the carriage halted and the footman rushed to check on his master. The carriage stood empty, save for a gory splatter of blood.
The tragic tale of that mysterious night spread like wildfire. Soon the entire city whispered of the fate that had befallen a great house.
---
The sky was bright and a woman sat by the gazebo, a thin clay pipe held loosely in her right hand. Sweet smoke curled upward as she worked on the canvas before her.
"My lady?" A young servant approached.
"Yes, Simon, what is it?" she asked, her back still turned.
"You have a guest, my lady."
"At this hour? What do they want?"
"He says he carries a message... from your house my lady."
She dropped her palette at once and headed for the courtyard without another glance.
The man before her was sweating boils of water.
"My lady," he said, bowing. "I bring sad news and a written request."
He handed her the letter. Her face fell immediately.
"Take heart, my lady." He left almost immediately.
"Simon?" she called out.
"Ready the carriage. We ride at first light."
"Yes, my lady."
A dark green carriage rolled to a halt before an imposing manor, its lacquered doors gleaming dully in the morning light.
A line of staffs stood motionless at the entrance, faces carved with grief, heads bowed in solemn deference.
"Welcome, my lady," the steward intoned. "It is an honor to receive you again, though the occasion blackens our hearts."
"Where's the girl?" the lady asked.
A young girl, eyes green and glistening with unshed tears, recoiled into the shadows. Her face was puffed from weeping.
"Mama?" she whispered, the word breaking like a question.
"Hello, little Rose."
---
Years passed in the city.
A young woman stood by the serene lake, warm breeze rustled through the tall grass that caressed her feet.The gentle lapping of water against the shore created a soothing melody, as though lulling the world into a peaceful slumber. Vanya ran her hand over the lake's surface, watching fish flee from the ripples that distorted her reflection.
She smiled as the water settled and stared at what it revealed. Her eyes sparkled like emeralds, green as sunlit fields. Her hair cascaded down her back like a waterfall of night, black and lustrous. Her skin glowed with a milk-like pallor, pale as the winter to come, yet radiant as the summer sky.
As she gazed, lost in thought, a soft voice broke the silence.
"Vanya? Come now, little rose. Do not sit out too long in the summer sun. Besides, it's lunchtime," Theresa, her aunt and guardian, called out.
Vanya turned from the lake, eyes crinkling as she smiled. "I'm coming, Aunty Theresa," she replied, her voice melodious.
As she walked toward the manor, the clink of dishes and muted chatter greeted her. The dining hall was filled with the warm aroma of freshly cooked food.
Settled at the table were Mr. Jones, the butler. Paddy, the handmaid. Mrs. Rue, the cook, and Joseph, the stable boy.
Madam Theresa believed in togetherness, not in ostracizing the less privileged. She believed in unity, and that was how Vanya had been raised since she was eight, when her parents never returned.
Now, all these people were her family.
As Vanya took her seat, Mr. Jones asked with his usual jovial demeanor, "What's bothering you, Rose? You're awfully not giddy today."
Vanya chuckled, her eyes sparkling.
"I'm alright, Mr. Jones. I'm just looking forward to going to the market tomorrow with Theresa and the rest."
Mr. Jones nodded, a knowing glint in his eye. "It must be exciting to finally tag along. Already tired of helping this old man around the house, aye?"
Vanya laughed, her cheeks dimpling. "I could never tire of digging in the soil, Mr. Jones. I get to learn about different slithering creatures, like the earthworm."
He raised an eyebrow, mock-stern.
"Alright, stop with your collection of slithering beasts, Rose. We're dining. Be more courteous. It's not ladylike." He mimicked a scolding tone.
Vanya snorted in laughter, glancing at Theresa, who was trying to stifle a smile.
Theresa sighed, amusement and exasperation warring in her eyes.
"Is that supposed to be me? Vanya, please, let's try to behave at the table."
Vanya grinned mischievously, then composed herself, attempting demureness.
Vanya dreamt of tomorrow. Sheltered all her life within manor walls or carriage windows, she awaited her nineteenth birthday as Theresa and Paddy prepared, list in hand.
---
The evening sun bled below the horizon as Mr. Jones entered the study library. Vanya sat buried in books, devouring history, science, and literature like a starved thing.
He cleared his throat. She glanced up.
"Dinner, Vanya."
"Five minutes, please?" Her fingers tightened on the spine.
"This chapter claims the library is older than the manor. That can't be right."
Mr. Jones smiled. "Older than me, certainly. I've been here thirty years and haven't touched half the shelves. Some books bite back."
Vanya closed the volume. "Bite back how?"
"Ask Theresa. She swears the one on poisons moved itself last winter." He offered his arm.
"Come. Before she sends it after me for letting you starve."
Vanya chuckled.
In the dining hall, Theresa studied Vanya's hunched shoulders. "The library will still stand tomorrow. Your spine won't, if you keep folding over like parchment."
Vanya grinned. "Then I'll read standing. Less chance of the books ambushing me."
Theresa arched a brow at Mr. Jones. "You told her about the poisons book."
"I doubt she believes me," he said, laughing.
---
Morning broke bright. Vanya waited by the door, gloves in hand.
Theresa descended the stairs. "Little rose. You beat the sun."
"I couldn't sleep," Vanya said, tugging her sleeve. "It's Market day."
"You've seen it before."
"Yes, barely. And from the carriage." Vanya caught herself and straightened. "I'm actually going in today."
Joseph had the horses ready. Vanya sat stiff until the market hit, vendors shouting, wheels on cobblestone, children darting through carts.
She stepped down. Her breath caught.
Theresa gave her a look. "You can admit it's exciting."
Vanya flushed, then grinned. "Fine. It is."
"Stay close," Theresa said, taking her arm. "Fruit first."
The strawberries were warm from the sun. Vanya closed her eyes with the first bite. "God, that's good." She opened them to a watching vendor and wiped her mouth shyly. "Better than what they bring to the house," she added, composed.
The butcher's stall stopped her. Iron and damp smell. Her stomach turned.
"We can go around," Theresa murmured.
Vanya wanted to say no, to prove something. She nodded instead.
"Yeah. Let's do that."
For a second she felt twelve, then squared her shoulders.
"Paddy, Mrs. Rue, go on. We'll meet at the fountain," Theresa ordered.
At the jewelry display, Vanya's hands steadied. She held earrings to the light.
"Mrs. Rue will love the blue."
A silver brooch. "Paddy won't admit she likes nice things. But she does."
"And you?" Theresa asked.
Vanya's fingers hovered over a thin chain, then pulled back. "I can take a minute to choose."
That was when Lady Catherine and Evelyn approached, smiles sharp as glass.
"Well," Lady Catherine said, voice sweet with venom.
"The orphan and her caretaker. How quaint."
Theresa stayed calm.
"Good day, Lady Catherine. We're just browsing."
"I'm sure," Catherine snorted.
"Though I doubt you're familiar with finer things. Scrounging for scraps suits you better. Or have you sunk to cheap trinkets now?"
Evelyn smirked. "It's laughable, you playing at upper class. You're just a charity case."
Vanya's face flushed, but she stood tall. "I think we're doing fine. Thank you for your... concern." Her voice was steady. "And we're not playing at anything. We're happy being ourselves."
Catherine's cheeks colored. "You think you're clever? You're a nobody. A poor, uneducated orphan. You'll never be more."
"Let's go, Vanya," Theresa intervened. "We have another appointment."
As they left, Theresa spoke low. "I'm proud you stood up for yourself. But remember a lady stays cool. Emotion is leverage for others."
"Yes, Aunty." Vanya frowned. "But how are people so rude?"
"Human nature," Theresa said. "Don't dwell on it. Now, the bookstore?"
On the way, a small library caught Vanya's eye. They both went in.
Inside, Mr. Jenkins greeted them warmly. "Welcome! What brings you in?"
Vanya's eyes widened at the shelves. "I love books. Do you have history? Adventure?"
"Ah, a reader." He led them over. "Here. This is The Lord Queen. A bestseller among noble young ladies."
Vanya browsed, pulling out titles. Mr. Jenkins nodded. "Excellent choices."
"Thank you," Theresa said. "We'll take these."
Outside, Vanya beamed. "Thank you."
"I'm glad," Theresa said, warmth in her eyes. "You're growing every day."
They visited more stalls, reunited with Mrs. Rue and Paddy, and finally returned to the carriage.
Autumn edged in as Vanya's nineteenth birthday neared. The manor hummed with preparations.
"Aunty, must we make such a fuss? It's only family and staff," Vanya asked in the library.
Theresa smiled. "Birthdays are for celebration. Besides, we've yet to meet Joseph's family. A small gathering, I promise."
Vanya relented. "Simple, then. I don't want to be a spectacle."
Outside, Joseph lounged against an oak, lanterns half-strung.
"Joseph, the gardens won't decorate themselves," Mr. Jones barked.
"Nearly done," Joseph said, and promptly upended a bucket of paint across the lawn.
"Clean it. Now," Mr. Jones snapped.
Joseph grabbed a rag. "At least the grass won't be boring."
By evening, rain drummed the windows. "Perfect," Theresa said. "The lights will look like stars trapped indoors."
A knock shook the door. A delivery man stood in the downpour, package under his arm. "For the manor."
Thunder cracked. Another knock loud, it came from the rear.
"Mr. Jones, go see," Theresa called.
He returned with Joseph, both soaked in Joseph's arms shivered a sodden kitten.
Vanya laughed and took it. "Ohh, oh my. He's perfect."
"Couldn't leave him in the rain, could I," Joseph said.
The rain relapsed and guests arrived. After dinner, they gathered in the gazebo, well wishing and recount great memories as the cat purred on Vanya's lap.
"I remember you in these gardens," Theresa said. "Always climbing, always questioning. Once you told Mr. Jones the oaks were older than God."
Mr. Jones choked on his wine. "She asked me to prove Him younger."
Laughter warmed the night.
The night was thickened and most of the guests left since they lived close by, Vanya hugged Theresa. "Best birthday ever."
The morning after her birthday, Vanya woke late. Paddy entered with a tray of toast and tea.
"You slept through breakfast, V," she said. "Party wore you out."
Vanya sipped her tea. From the living room came the low murmur of overnight guests, already planning the day and debating who would feed Luna, the new kitten.
Theresa appeared, warm and watchful. "How are you feeling, dear?"
"Tired, but better."
"Rest, then. Paddy and I have market errands."
"Can I come?" Vanya asked.
Theresa hesitated, then nodded. "Of course."
The market was wrong. Half the stalls stood shuttered. The few vendors left whispered as they hurried their sales.
"You're telling me Loe's family vanished too?" a woman hissed.
"My mother says we should leave," another answered. "It's like what happened a decade ago."
Vanya barely listened, but Theresa's hand tightened on her arm. They cut the errands short.
"Hurry Inside, little rose," Theresa said when they reached the manor, her voice rushed.
"Are you all right?" Vanya asked.
Theresa shook her head. "Never mind. Lunch."
For the first time, Vanya noticed the iron latch and heavy barricades on the manor doors. She caught Mr. Jones and Theresa speaking in low tones, their words.
They played games in the living room a distraction from the heavy storm, Vanya noticed the forced laughter, from all of them. Theresa's smiles did not reach her eyes. Mr. Jones checked the windows more than he joined the games.
"I believe It's time for bed," Theresa said at last, her voice strained.
Vanya nodded, relief and unease twisting together.
Then came the knock. Soft, yet it echoed like a drum.
Theresa froze mid-step on the stairs.
Vanya rose before she could stop herself, drawn to the door. Her legs moved without permission.
"Don't, little rose," Theresa whispered, the words choking in her throat. Tears slipped down her cheeks.
Mr. Jones was gone, making his rounds. Joseph and Paddy had cleared the games. The room was too still.
The knocking grew louder, insistent. Vanya's hand trembled on the doorknob. Curiosity and dread warred in her chest. She turned the handle.
Cold night air rushed in. Vanya scanned the darkness.
And then, she saw him….