"Katerina, why are you so angry?" I asked her once we were alone in the library that stood between the two chambers. I caressed her old arm, which she had laced through mine, trying to appease her.
It seemed to work because after a while, she responded, in a much calmer tone, "You scared me. I came to your chamber, and you were gone. They are all strange here. I... trust Lord Vlad," she explained, pausing slightly and making me feel that her 'trust' in him wasn't exceedingly deep, "but not his guests or the knights. I have already lost you once... You don't understand. Moreover, as I taught you when you were a young girl, a proper lady doesn't seek a company of a man undressed."
"Oh, Katerina, he is not 'a' man, he is 'my' man, do I remember right? And I'm not undressed," I said, indicating the blanket covering me from head to toe.
"You are not dressed either," she said, looking away from me and raising her chin high. I remembered how she had always done this when trying to make me understand that I wasn't behaving in a proper way. Poor old nurse, her voice was so serious that it made me giggle.
We walked through the short corridor and then entered my room. I made a beeline for the fireplace; the chambers of this castle were vast and chilly, making me feel cold despite the fur-lined blanket wrapped around my body.
Soon, I heard Katerina calling me from somewhere behind the other door I had noticed before; her voice coming muffled from the other chamber. Following her inside, I realised that this door opened to a spacious dressing room and through there to yet another room. Katerina's chamber, most likely.
"Shall I choose your dress for today, my lady, or you'll choose it yourself as usual?" she asked as I stopped in the middle of the dressing room. It was like walking inside a fairy tale or a dream.
"I'll choose my dress," I said dreamily, surprised and mesmerised by the infinity of colourful dresses, capes and coats, fur-lined, velvety soft and heavily embroidered, that lay spread out on large wooden chests placed along the walls of the chamber. I couldn't wait to try them all on.
"Katerina, where is my dress from last night?" I asked, remembering my book.
She passed me the burgundy coloured gown, and I checked its folds for a hidden pocket. Luckily, the book was there, I didn't imagine it. It was the only thing connecting me to my other reality, my parallel life. A proof of a sort that I was not... was I only dreaming? I shook my head and pinched my cheek, but nothing happened, I did not wake up.
Katerina was regarding my strange behaviour with a slight frown, clearly ready to tell me her most honest opinion about my mental health, should I ask. The only thing I knew with certainty right now was that I didn't want to hear it.
Sighing, I passed her my book and looked properly at the other dresses, touching the different fabrics they were made of, trying to remember the days when I used to wear them. Seeing that Vlad kept all of my things as they were while I had lived with him brought tears into my eyes, making my affection for him grow even more. No, I wasn't dreaming, I couldn't be. If nothing else, my feelings for him, threatening to choke me with their intensity, were too real.
That's the only proof you need, I told myself, taking a deep, calming breath.
My eyes fell on a moss-green velvet dress embroidered with gold. It was the only one I remembered. I picked it up and asked the old nurse, "May I wear this one today, Katerina? I think it used to be my favourite."
"Very well, my lady," she said, her eyes clouded over with memories. "You are right, you have always preferred this dress."
She made me return into my chamber, carrying the dress and a clean linen shirt for me, and I got changed by the fire. I enjoyed the feel of the fresh, crisp linen against my skin and the heavy, smooth, and warm velvet on top.
"Your hair now and then you'll eat," Katerina announced once I was, according to her, decently dressed and nearly presentable.
She could dress me up and tell me off as much as she liked, but there was no way I was going to let her do my hair like the previous day. My patience had its limits, and even though I loved her dearly, she was not going to touch my hair.
"No, Katerina, just leave it, please," I begged, stepping away from her.
"But you mustn't walk around with your hair loose, it doesn't become a lady like yourself..."
"Just leave her Katerina, let her finally eat." Vlad's imposing voice interrupted us, making me win the battle. "She can wear her hair however she likes."
He walked over to me, kissing my hand even as he whispered, "You are so beautiful, Samara."
I hadn't seen or heard him entering my chamber, and his sudden presence made my heart race again as I listened to his words.
"This dress suits you the best," he murmured, wrapping his arms around me as I leaned my forehead against his chest. He felt reassuringly real. "It is the dress you wore on the day of our wedding."
Of course, he was right. Another memory settled itself in my confused, forgetful mind. I remembered that day...
"You must remember to knock on the door, my lord, now that your lady is back." Katerina's voice disturbed my silent reverie.
"Katerina, he can do whatever he wants!" I called. It was my turn to defend him against my exasperating nurse. We looked at each other and laughed.
"I'll be back as soon as I can, my love," Vlad told me. Then he turned towards the nurse, saying, "Katerina, you keep her company; she shouldn't leave these chambers while any of my guests are present. I'll leave you the knights, if you need me, send me a message with one of them."
"Of course, my lord," Katerina said as Vlad walked out of my chamber, his voice giving orders to the knights standing outside, trailing off as the door closed behind him.
When I finally sat down to the breakfast table placed under one of the windows, I realised that I was starving. Also, I missed my usual morning coffee. I scanned the different trays for anything that could have caffeine in it, but I knew just enough about life in medieval Europe, not to expect to find it. There was a small cup filled with dark liquid, though. It looked promising, so I brought it to my lips carefully, not quite trusting my luck. It was not coffee, but ale. A beer for breakfast? No, thank you. I placed it back where it had been, and in the end, I settled for a bread bun with some dried fruits in it and a cup of wine. It was the same sweet wine I drank last night, just a little less strong.
"Katerina, could I have a glass of milk?" I asked the nurse who was just setting my book on the chair next to my still undone bed. "Not right now, but maybe tomorrow?" I changed my plea when my words were met with one of her stern looks.
"Milk, my lady? I wonder what's gone into you today. Only children and old people drink milk. You seem to have forgotten a great deal of your education and good manners..." I listened to her sermon quietly, wishing I had bitten my tongue before asking.
Once I finished eating, Katerina asked me to retire to the library so she could call the maids to clean and tidy up my room. I obliged, getting out of her way, not wanting to make her even more disgruntled.
Walking down the short corridor again, I noticed a door I had missed before along one of its walls. Where could that lead? Open the door! My curiosity screamed at me. I tried the door handle and finding it unlocked, opened it carefully. There was a steep, narrow, and very dusty spiral staircase leading both down and up. It was definitely a place to explore, but not today. You promised to stay put, I reminded myself.
I closed the mysterious door silently and walked inside the library; the small room feeling cosy and a lot warmer than my chamber. Despite its size, it held plenty of books. They looked ancient but brand new at the same time, with thick, glossy pages and beautiful illustrations glimmering in the firelight.
I leafed through some of them reverently, turning the pages with great care. Feeling still too confused and distracted to concentrate on deciphering their ancient writing, I chose a book that seemed to have a lot of pictures in it and carried it over to a table by the window.
The large writing desk was full of scrolls of parchment, quills, inkwells, and letters. The place looked a lot like a part of a movie set of Hogwarts, I realised, and looked behind me half-expecting Professor Snape materializing out of thin air, telling me to turn to page three hundred and ninety-four. Not that it would help me much, as that particular page was supposed to deal with werewolves and not vampires. I laughed; if Katerina thought I was losing it, maybe she wasn't completely wrong.
Still giggling, I moved a few things around the desk to make space for my book. Then I froze, all mirth forgotten. My eyes fell on a book that lay half-hidden under a pile of opened letters. I brought it closer, a shiver running down my spine. This was weird. It couldn't be. But it was. Bram Stoker's Dracula. Not my battered paperback copy, but, as its first page informed me, a first edition, published in London by Archibald Constable and Company in May 1897. But how? We were in fourteen hundred and something here... It seemed that with every step I took around the castle, I was burying myself deeper in its mysteries.
I had no idea how long I sat there, staring at the book in front of me, caressing its spine with my finger. Finally, shaking my head, I slid the book gently back in its place. I stood up, stretched my stiff limbs, then decided to abandon the library.
I walked into Vlad's chamber, hoping to clear my thoughts and make some sense of... something... anything. Or at least to find something to draw my attention from this new enigma.
The room was as warm and welcoming as my own now, with a lively fire burning in the great fireplace. There was a large painting hanging above it that I had failed to notice in the morning, distracted as I had been... I glanced towards Vlad's bed, blushing at the memory, then started to walk towards the painting and paused in my tracks.
I was looking at myself and Vlad from some six hundred years ago. It was a mind-blowing realisation. Six hundred years have passed since then, more less. A small inscription on the golden frame confirmed my estimate. The painting was dated, 'Spring, 1460'.
I hadn't changed much, I had to admit. I was still slim and quite short, arriving up to Vlad's shoulder. My hair was the same, curly, long, unruly copper coloured chaos, but bound as Katerina liked it, with only a few stray locks flowing freely around my face. Even my silvery, curious eyes were looking back at me from the painting, from above the sprinkling of annoying freckles covering my pale nose and cheeks. The dress depicted in the picture was the same one I was wearing right now. That, and Vlad's serious face and the protective way in which his arms were folded around me, told me that the portrait was from our wedding day.
I couldn't take my eyes off the painting for a long time, as I was hit by a flood of new memories. They were too many, coming back too fast for me to try to understand them all at the same time. And they were not all good. I shivered and decided not to think about any of them right now.
Finally, I walked to the window overlooking the courtyard, just in time to see Vlad mounting a black horse, Midnight!, and riding away with a group of his guests and a few knights.
"Your chamber is ready now, Lady Samara," Katerina announced, entering the room and joining me by the window.
"Where are they going?" I asked her, nodding to the group in the courtyard, suddenly sad at seeing him leaving.
"Nowhere far, surely. They like... hunting," she murmured darkly, the tone of her voice disapproving. "Your husband promised you he would be back tonight, and he will keep his promise. You don't have to worry about anything else," she said more cheerfully, making me feel better. "Now come. The maids were too slow this morning; it's nearly time to think about your lunch. The cook is excited to have someone here to cook for except for the maids and servants. She is expecting your orders, my lady."