The Detective's Damsel

xvii.

"THIS FEELS LIKE a terrible idea."

The two of them were standing just outside a small brick residence on the east end of Nyírbátor. It was midday, but the clouds cast a dark, ghostly shadow over the town, making it feel much later. Corinna narrowed her eyes in Knight's direction.

"What is it that you Americans say when you are surprised at another person's cowardice?" 

"Man up and grow some balls," Knight said gruffly. "Yeah, I know. Something just doesn't feel right about this." Knight cast a glance down both directions of the street, but there was nothing to see. There had been nothing to see since they left Corinna's estate, but she could not say she was entirely bothered by Knight's extra precaution. The guard traveled in pods of three or four men—they would certainly be loud enough to alert Knight and Corinna to their presence. Then again, she had never before been on the run from them. 

"We are evading authority," Corinna said, bunching up the fabric of her skirt and scaling the stone steps to the door. "Is that supposed to feel right?"

Knight's boots crunched against frozen leaves as he stepped up beside her. "You have a point."

Corinna had to knock three separate times before anyone opened the door, and the woman who opened it was not what she was expecting. The woman was tall, almost at Knight's eye level, and bone-thin, hair the color of salt pulled back into a bonnet. Her dress hung from her frame and her watery blue eyes watched them warily.

"Terezia?" Corinna asked with a polite curtsy.

The woman stood still, eyes panning between both Corinna and Knight for a long moment. Eventually, she shook her head and began to shut the door.

"Wait!" Corinna called. The door halted inches from closing. "My name is Corinna Báthory, daughter of the baron. I am here on account of my sister, Elizabeth. If you know anything of a woman named Terezia or where she is, I would very much like to know. Please."

The world seemed to still for a moment, as the door neither closed nor opened any further, and Corinna had to remind herself to breathe. Finally, the woman's wrinkled hand curled around the door and pushed it the remainder of the way open. She seemed to be standing a little taller, but that was to be expected after Corinna revealed her title. "Come in, then." Her voice was raspy with disuse, and at an earlier time may have startled her. But new Corinna—the Corinna that had come into existence after being kidnapped—felt only burning, intoxicating curiosity.

The inside of the cottage was quaint and rather cozy with one long room connecting the dining room and kitchen to the living area, ending with two doors: one was partially ajar and revealed the end of a bed, while the other was closed, presumably the washroom. The woman made her way to a wooden rocking chair in front of a dead fireplace, though she gestured to the vacant settee. "It is an honor to have you, Mrs. Báthory. Please take a seat."

Corinna sank onto the couch and Knight took a seat beside her, careful to keep his distance. While she would never have said it aloud, she was grateful for his ability to adapt to any situation, including ones where his voice and actions might be more complicated to explain than his presence with her in the first place.  

"I must apologize for my earlier hesitance," the woman said, folding her hands in her lap. "I do not often entertain visitors. Had I been expecting a member of the Báthory family, I would have attempted to clean up more."

Corinna smiled, rather taking a liking to this woman. "Your apology is not necessary. Thank you for inviting us into your home. My companion and I simply have a few questions we think you might know the answers to."