Black Crescent Moon

Thought It Was a Castle, Did You?

I dreamt of nothing, but slowly awoke to a blanketing warmth that was in actuality quite pleasant. I felt as though I were encased from chest to toe in soft, downy blankets that were not unwelcome in their contact with my skin. The pleasant feel of whatever I was wrapped it, be it blankets or not, was in stark contrast with my mood.

Oh, I was absolutely livid, and I knew I had a very good reason to be.

While I did enjoy the warmth of the fabrics I was holed up in, the simple fact was that they were unfamiliar. My aunt’s sheets were nowhere near as nice as these ones, their texture was slightly rougher. No, these blankets were strangers to me, and that alone gave me the confirmation I needed to be very, very upset.

I swear to God, if it weren’t for the fact that stabbing him would hurt like hell, Adrian would be so dead right now. Opening my eyes, I greeted the mural-painted ceiling above with a dark scowl. Not that the painting itself deserved such harsh criticism from my stare; it was a beautifully elaborate portrait of the early evening sky, just before the sun fell. The orange, pink, purple, and dark blue hues crossed the ceiling in swirling waves, almost like an ocean of color crossing the heavens.

My expression softened a little, turning neutral. “Interesting...” I mumbled. Wanting to get a better view of the room, instead of appreciating the ceiling, I tried sitting up. Keyword being tried. The blankets I had been wrapped in made it nigh impossible to move properly.

“Well now, you’ve finally woken up.” A stranger’s lilting voice echoed to my left, causing me to jump and rapidly turn my head to get a look at whoever it was.

A pretty dark-haired boy with brown eyes stared back at me, dressed in a green shirt and brown pants. He wasn’t very tall, no more than five foot four, or five foot five. He looked nervous, kind of tense really. Like he wanted to be anywhere else but here. “Hello there, Miss Taylor,” he smiled hesitantly, hands fiddling with the hem of his shirt.

I blinked, pushing my anger to the back of my mind. This guy looks terrified of me... “Um...hi?” Who was this guy? More importantly, where was I?

From what I could see of the room, it spared nothing in expense. The black plush carpeted flooring looking like it would be heaven to walk barefoot on, and an intricately wood carved desk sat tucked away in the corner. What appeared to be a glass-blown floral lamp stood next to it, though the lights weren’t on.

The walls were beige colored, letting the rest of the décor speak for itself. To the boy’s right was an open door that looked like it led to a hallway. On his left, was a walk-in closet, with floor length mirrors for doors. Next to the bed was a nightstand, on top of it an empty candleholder, and a book.

“I-I’m Camden,” the boy stuttered, looking away. “I was instructed to help you dress for the day and escort you to the drawing room after you had eaten breakfast...”

Okay? “You’re a guy, right?” I asked awkwardly, weirded out by the conversation. The way he was talking made the whole thing sound really stiff and formal.

He blushed, seeming to realize his mistake. “Ah!” He shook his head. “No! I meant help you pick out a dress, not dress you!” He corrected, flustered.

I giggled. This kid didn’t seem too bad, if not a little too shy. “That’s all right,” I said, trying to worm my way out of the blankets again. “so long as you don’t end up seeing me naked at some point, we’re good.” I didn’t mind it so much, but I got the feeling that if he did, he just might pass out from embarrassment. Poor guy.

“Um...?”

Shaking my head, I managed to free one of my arms from the stupid sheets. “Don’t worry about it...” I told him, amused. “Why am I wrapped up like a gopher?” I hoped that wasn’t standard protocol around here...