I exited the dressing room clad head to toe in silver, pewter, and charcoal, even as Katerina entered my chamber, followed by Alina.
"I can never eat that!" I called, appalled, when I noticed the quantity of food they brought for my breakfast.
"You haven't been eating enough lately, my lady. Or sleeping. I don't want you falling ill. You must think about your husband, what would he say..." she went on, mumbling, while she deposited the multitude of pots and plates on the small table by the window.
"As if I was able to do anything else than to think about my husband, Katerina," I muttered under my breath.
The door opened again, letting Clara and Shadow in.
The wolf headed directly for the fireplace, startling Alina, who was feeding wood to the hungry flames. He shook himself furiously, sending tiny droplets of water flying in all directions, making the maid jump back.
I giggled, then bit my lip, trying to compose myself as Alina shot me an unpleasant look.
"You must join me for breakfast, Clara," I told my companion, trying to forget the maid.
"As you wish, my lady," the girl said, and I noticed how sad and tired she looked. The dark rings under her eyes looked familiar, very similar to those I had had for the last few days. And her Ioan only left the previous night.
We sat down to breakfast while Katerina and Alina set to their chores.
Clara was very quiet, she looked so worried that for a moment I wondered what Ioan had told her. If she knew as much as I did about the missing girls. No, Ioan wouldn't tell her. Not after what happened to her sister, I thought. I would have to choose my words carefully around Clara until they came back, not to let anything slip.
Once we had finished eating, Katerina shepherded us to the library. To my surprise, I felt relieved not to find Junior there. I had noticed how I could not look in his green eyes anymore without thinking about another, similar pair of green eyes. And I could not think about those without feeling sick with worry. When will he be back?
Clara settled by the window, taking out her needlework again while I sat at the writing desk, observing the books on the shelves, trying to decide which one to take out. After a while, I dismissed the idea altogether. No way would I be able to focus on reading. I lay my head down on the desk, eyes closed, one cheek pressed to its cool, smooth wood. It would be a very long day.
After some time, Clara took pity on me.
"Maybe I could teach you to embroider, my lady," she offered.
"I have never done anything of the sort," I confessed. But concentrating on learning something, anything new, sounded better than doing nothing at all.
"That might be interesting then." A voice came from close behind me, soft and full of mirth. The speaker's hand rested among my loose curls spread over the desk with the easy familiarity of an old friend.
I tensed, unsure of the propriety of the unexpected gesture, at least in Clara's presence, surprised by how close we had become. How fast.
Junior must have realised what he had done as well, his hand vanishing immediately. Being closed inside these rooms over the last few days, united by our anxiety for the man we both loved, made us feel as if we knew each other much longer, as if we were family... But wasn't everything happening a bit too fast here, ever since I came back?
I opened my eyes and noted that the room had become much darker. It was snowing heavily outside. Again. I stood up and walked over to the fireplace, avoiding to look at Junior, who circled the desk from the other side, coming to sit in my chair. Lighting a couple of candles from the fire, I brought them over to the window where Clara was working.
As I sat down next to her, I caught sight of her new ring for the first time. It was an intricately braided band of silver, or maybe white gold, crowned by a large red stone, surrounded by a halo of what looked like tiny diamonds. I had never cared enough about jewels to know what the stones were exactly, to tell the difference. But I knew that rubies were red.
"Is that a ruby?" I asked to break the silence filling the room.
Mesmerised, I observed the stone that seemed to have come to life when it was illuminated by the delicate glow of the candle, its flame dancing and flickering in the draft caused by the movement of Clara's busy fingers.
"No. It's a garnet, my lady. My favourite. A lucky stone." She closed her eyes and added softly, closing her hand in a fist around the ring and bringing it to her chest, "He should have carried it with him, they will need luck more than us."
Her words made me shiver. I turned around to look at Junior for help, but he just watched us silently, lost for the right words as much as me.
"You mustn't worry, Clara, they will be all right," I found myself repeating the words I had heard so often lately; hating them. We couldn't know that. And my nightmares were far from reassuring.
"Of course they will," Junior chimed in finally, trying to sound sure. He could not fool me, though.
I turned to him again in search of the truth, but he had averted his look towards the window before I could catch his eyes.
Has something changed? Was it my last night's dream, the one I had told him about, what made him look so much more worried today? I must talk to him alone, I thought, as Clara passed me a needle, and, distracted as I was, I pricked my finger promptly.
"Ouch!" I cried out, looking at the single drop of blood that welled up on the alabaster skin of my finger, as red and pulsating with life as Clara's gem.
I started to bring the finger to my lips as Junior snatched me off the chair and dragged me to the other side of the room, pushing me against the cold wall in a whirlwind of movement. My heart beat in my ears so loudly that only now I noticed the sound of approaching footsteps in the corridor, followed by a knock on the door.
"Come in!" Junior called.
One of the knights entered, crossed the room towards us silently, and handed a letter to Junior. His dark eyes went wide as he saw me, half hidden behind Junior, making me shiver. I still didn't like the knights. Their looks, the way they hardly ever spoke, were creeping me out too much. He bowed, then was gone before the thought registered properly in my mind.
Junior took a step away from me and turned to look in my face.
"Are you well?" he asked, his voice full of anxiety.
"Yes..." I replied, confused by his concern. By his action.
"Fine. Don't ever do that again!" he exclaimed, reaching for my hand to examine my now perfectly invisible wound.
"But it was just a needle; it didn't even hurt. You are overreacting..."
"Oh, Samara, don't you understand? You must be careful. That tiny drop of blood might be all that it takes... for someone to... Not every vampire is like us here, in this castle." His urgent, exasperated tone became reproachful as he added, "I see why Father thinks that this might not be the place for you."
Tears flooded my eyes as my hands flew to his chest, pushing him away with no effect. "I didn't do it on purpose!" I called as I ran past him towards my room, ignoring his voice trailing behind me, calling my name.
I threw myself on the bed and drew the curtains all around me, hiding in the darkness, before the tears started to roll down my cheeks. I didn't even try to stop them. They were ceaseless but quiet and cleansing, purifying, and for the first time in my life, it felt good to cry. Because there was nothing better to be done about the unfairness of it all. And for the first time, an awful thought crossed my mind. I came back too late.
There was no way for us, for me and Vlad, to live together anymore. He was right. I did not belong here. Nooo! My subconscious screamed at me. If that was true, then you wouldn't have come back at all. What would be the point? I buried my head under the pillow when first silent sobs accompanied the tears, I didn't want anyone to hear me.
"Samara, I'm sorry." Junior's voice reached me from behind the drapes after some time. "I didn't mean to..."
"It's fine. You don't need to apologise," I said, my voice hoarse and breaking, betraying my tears. "But I don't want to talk to you now."
"I..."
"Please, leave me alone," I begged.
I heard him walk away and, after some time, started drifting off into a light, restless sleep, remaining on the threshold of consciousness. I could hear low, whispering voices in the room behind the curtains, Clara's and Katerina's, then Junior's again. But every time they reached me, I just tuned them all out, willing myself to drift off again.
Then I woke up, startled by my own piercing scream, choking from smoke.
Junior was next to me so fast that it made me wonder if he was just sitting next to my bed all the time. His arms came around me, strong and reassuring, pulling me close.
"Was it the same dream again?" he spoke into the messy, tangled cloud of my hair.
I nodded. "There is fire... a body lies at the bottom of the staircase... motionless... it's... your father... " My voice trailed off, and as much as I tried, I couldn't say anymore.
He inhaled sharply, the deep, shaky breath nearly a sigh.
"It's nearly dawn," he said, pulling away and looking directly in my eyes. "I know I promised him to stay here, to look after you, but these dreams... I think I know the place... Samara, do you want me to go after them?"
"No..." Yes. I couldn't send him away, could I? If something happened to him, it would be my fault. But what if something happened to Vlad and Ioan because I kept Junior here? "Not unless you want to," I added.
He kissed me on my forehead briefly and paused by the door of my chamber even before I noticed he had left my side, ready to leave.
"I'll bring him back. But you must be careful. Father shall have my head if something happens to you."
With that, he was gone.
Days passed-- two? five?-- when I would get out of the bed only to attend to my basic needs, followed sometimes by my faithful Shadow, sometimes by Katerina, coming back immediately to hide from the reality, the loneliness, the sense of guilt for sending Junior away, who knows where...
Clara would check on me sometimes, bringing me food from Cook, talking, then leaving me alone again.
There was no news from them, not even one line, one word, and I didn't know if that was a good or a bad thing. I had too much time to think, to worry about Vlad and the others, lost who knows where, wondering... not when... but if I would ever see them again.
Sometimes, my mind would take me back to my other life instead, the parallel reality where I had left my family and friends, wondering when... if... thinking, torturing myself into near madness.
Then, suddenly, it was too much. I couldn't stand it anymore. I had to get up and start living again, or I would go insane.
I opened the curtains separating me from the rest of the world, wincing at the soft light of the lambent fire, which looked blinding after all the time I had spent in the darkness.
"Katerina!" I tried to call, but my voice came out low, hoarse and broken after the long disuse.
Somehow, it was strong enough to draw the old woman's attention.
"Yes, my lady?" she asked, coming to my bed, her voice filled with hope.
"Can I take a bath, please?" It seemed like the best thing to start with.
"Of course!" she said, smiling, shuffling out of my chamber, presumably in search of helpful maids.