“Stop that!” he ferociously barked.
“I told you to stay away!”
Before he could respond, she grabbed one last weapon, the jug of wine, and flung the red liquid into his face. He sputtered, trying to wipe his eyes and Ellena darted for the door. She knew now was her cue to make a run for it. In her right state of mind she would never have blindly ran into the dark recesses of an unknown mansion, but unfortunately she was not in her right state of mind.
The hallway seemed much longer than before. She tried to keep running, but she stumbled, falling against the wall. She caught herself, straining to focus her vision that had suddenly gone blurry. She was staring a picture of a rather jolly, looking servant woman wearing a white bonnet covered in blue flowers.
She must have downed more wine that she thought because the painting began moving. The woman’s little bonnet titled back as she opened her mouth and began to laugh. Ellena could not hear it but she knew that’s what she was doing. The strange woman then pointed and Ellena could barely see her lips form the words.
That way.
Ellena blinked, turning her head as she began to stagger down the hall. There were many more paintings that seemed to move, to be guiding her. She blindly obeyed, turning whichever way that she found the next portrait leading her. After many twist and turns she found herself standing in front of a little red door.
“Are you all right?” Ellena spun around to see Monsieur Gregor. “Allow me to help you.” He gently took her arm and opened the door. Inside was a candlelit room with a golden laced bed, bright yellow curtains covered the windows as the soft glow from the candles reflected off of their silken form and more odd portraits of old servant women were hanging on the walls.
“I have to leave,” Ellena frantically said. “I have to get back to the village.”
“Calm down, mademoiselle,” he softly said. “Lord Wolfe has gone to his room for the night and he has instructed me to take care of you.”
He helped her to sit on the bed. “I don’t feel safe,” Ellena confessed. “I should never have come here.”
“Well, you were left with no other choice,” Gregor answered. “But trust me. You are safe here. No one will bother you while you sleep.” The old man began to chuckle. “I was quite amused with the vibrant tussle you gave my lord. I’ve known him for quite some time and I’ve never seen him act in any manner less than that of a spoiled aristocrat. I’ve also never seen him attacked with a plate of sausages.”
Ellena couldn’t help but laugh, too. “I think I panicked.” She was beginning to feel much more at ease now.
“I should say so,” he grinned. “Lie down and get some rest. Morning comes early.”
He stepped from the room and closed the door behind him. The moment the latch clicked, signaling the door was shut, Ellena rushed forward and locked it before blocking it with a rather large dresser. It at least made her feel a little safer.
She flopped onto the bed, not even bothering to remove her red hood. She snuggled deeper into the warm blankets. She was already dreaming. She had to be because she was now staring at the same wall where the many portraits were hanging only now, as her eyes began to droop, they were empty.
Chapter Four
A familiar, annoying pecking woke her up at sunrise. Her body felt stiff, her head hurt, and the bright rays of sun peaking in through the curtains sent a throbbing stab from the front of her head to the back of her skull as she tried to open her eyes.
“I can’t believe I drank so much,” she grumbled.
Ellena rolled over to discover that she was now under the blanket, tucked in safely with her head resting against the lavish white pillows. Her hood was gone, as was her shoes, but she soon found them neatly folded on a nearby trunk. She sprung up in shock, thinking that someone had come into her room, but the dresser was still blocking the door and the door was still securely locked.
The persistent pecking continued and Ellena slipped from the bed and made her way over to one of the yellow curtains and, pushing the fabric aside, found a familiar red cardinal.
“Mademoiselle?”
Gregor was knocking at the door.
“One moment!” Ellena replied as she rushed to push the dresser away.
“Good morning,” he greeted when Ellena opened the door. She was happy to see that Lord Wolfe was not with him.
“He’s making his normal bounds around the gardens,” Gregor answered as if reading her mind.
“Monsieur?” she asked.
“Yes?” he had brought her some nice hot breakfast and was busying setting it down on a table nearby.
“May I ask you a question? I understand if you don’t want to answer.”
“Go ahead.”
“Is that man crazy?” she asked, dropping her tone to a whisper as if he could be listening from around any corner. “I mean it’s just strange that he lives out here in the middle of nowhere isolated from anyone else and he seems very removed from reality with all his talk of peasants and lords.”
“Well, he actually is descendant from a long line of royalty,” Gregor replied. “But I can understand your uneasiness. I guess he does live in his own world.”
She sat down in the elegant chair next to the table and watched him go about his usual duties. “That I could even overlook if he wasn’t so insufferable.”
“He’s been like that way for some time I’m afraid,” Gregor smiled. “All the ladies use to fawn over him in droves.”
“Well, that explains it,” she mumbled.
“He takes great pride in his appearance. It’s the only quality he cares about not only in himself but in others. I will leave you to eat. Once you are done simply pull the lever by the door to ring the bell. I will be back to fetch you.”
Ellena quietly nibbled on her toast. The red cardinal had flown away, leaving her alone in the silence as she tried to retrace her thoughts from last night. Something had been wrong with the portraits she recalled, but they looked fine now.
She took her time savoring the steamy tea with its sweet lilac scent and sprinkles of peppermint leaves. It was the best that she had ever had and after finishing, she rang for Gregor who appeared shortly after. When he returned Ellena was ready with her boots and red hood already in place.
“Thank you so much for everything,” Ellena began as the old butler picked up her tray. “But I think it’s time that I be on my way.”
“You may find that difficult,” Gregor said. “Have you looked outside?”
She raced to the window and threw the curtains open. How could she have missed it before? The snow had multiplied overnight, rising all the way up to the window seal and only getting bigger.
“We’re snowed in,” she whispered. “But I thought you said that he was outside in the gardens?”
“Actually, mademoiselle, I said he was in the gardens. I never said he was outside.”
Gregor departed soon after that, giving Ellena permission to explore any part of the mansion that she wished. She, however, could only think of eluding a certain lord. She couldn’t bear facing him, not after last night. All she had to do was avoid him until the snow melted. How long could it possibly take, she thought. One, maybe two days? She could do it. All she had to do was just stay in this room.
It sounded like a good idea until several hours later when she could no longer stand lying across her bed, staring into the ceiling anymore. She had long ago finished exploring the bedroom, looking through what few books that were scattered about and admiring the fine craftsmanship of the hand carved furniture. Once she had even tried to pry the window open and look outside, but the cursed thing would not budge from the buildup of snow. Her patience had long ago dissolved, leaving behind only a nagging temptation to go and explore. It was a temptation that was too strong to resist.
Not a soul was around as Ellena slithered into the hall. Torches and candle stands filled with burning tapers lit the way, no doubt to also add more warmth to the bare, cold air. A vibrant
green rug ran along the floor, leading her past door after door. She finally summoned enough courage to open one to discover an elegant music chamber. The lone grand piano was what really caught her eye, standing on a lavish Persian rug as a few beams of light cascaded in through a tall, foggy window. On every wall were shelves and shelves of music books.
Ellena had always wanted to learn how to play the piano. She carefully sat down on its soft, black seat and rested her fingers on the ivory keys. Her hands bobbed along, striking the cords and filling the room with an atrocious, fowl melody. The door slowly crept open and Ellena stopped. It was only Gregor.
“You are quite knowledgeable on the piano, I see.”
Ellena laughed, “Obviously not, but I have always wanted to learn.”
“It’s tea time. I’ve prepared for us to partake of it in the drawing room if you don’t mind following me.”
Gregor lead her only a few doors down where he very graciously escorted her inside. Lord Wolfe was already waiting.
Ellena felt the blood rush from her face as piercing blue eyes found her. A small, white bandage covered his left temple, lightly soaked in blood. She wanted to turn and leave, but Lord Wolfe would not allow it.
“Where are you going?” he asked, shifting in his seat to better stare at her. “You have the audacity to attack me in my home and destroy my belongings, not to mention cruelly torture my piano, but not even join me for a cup of tea?”
“I apologize for last night,” she boldly said. “But I felt the need to protect myself.”
“And what have I done to earn such distrust?” he asked.
“You have done nothing, monsieur, nothing but criticize, belittle, and insult me from the moment that we have met. Those reasons alone are enough for me to slap you in the head with a plate of meat!” She turned to fully face him, her green eyes flaming with rage. “You’ve never even bothered to ask my name.”
“I thought you were someone of no importance? Did you not say so yourself? I never waste time learning the names of those who have little significance,” he answered in a low voice.
“Then forgive me for wasting your precious time.”
Ellena stormed from the room with Gregor barely able to move out of the way in time. She didn’t know where she was going and she didn’t care, as long as it was away from that man.
It was still snowing when she came upon some sort of green house in the far right wing. For a moment Ellena was afraid that she had stumbled outside, but no snow covered the green trees or the vibrant colored tulips that filled the enormous corridor. She looked up to see a glass ceiling, completely covered in a layer of ice.
“The inside gardens,” Ellena whispered. A little beaten path weaved into the green landscape covered in yellow and red flowers as bright maple and oak trees with dazzling orange leaves stood hovering above the blossom beds.
A particularly irresistible patch of green grass caught her attention and she carefully stepped past the tulips and made herself comfortable. Her cape was the perfect blanket as she laid back to watch, through the glass ceiling, as the white flakes rage. The sky was still an obscure gray and it was hard to believe that this time yesterday she was scouring the town in search of Danielle.
Ellena softly dozed, coming in and out of sleep as the afternoon passed. At one point she thought that she had heard soft, slow footsteps and she rolled over, but not seeing anyone she quickly fell back into a light sleep.
The gardens were cast in shadows when she finally sat up. It had also gotten much colder, a sign that it was time for Ellena to exit the darkening gardens. She was slightly surprised that Gregor had not come to retrieve her.
She fled back to warm house and continued to explore. Turning down another hallway to her left she began toward what she believed was the washroom, but was disappointed to see only another drawing room.
“Monsieur Gregor?” Ellena called. She desperately needed the bathroom.
“He’s busy with other matters.”
She whipped around to see an unfriendly sight. Lord Wolfe appeared just around the corner with a bow and arrow in his hands. He walked past, making sure to slightly brush her as he did so and continued down the hall.
“Le toilette,” she released with a strangled cry. “I need the toilet.”
“Well then,” he wickedly grinned. “I hope you find it.”
And then he was gone.
“That horrible man!” she spat. Her footsteps were growing frantic as she paced around the house. She opened another door to see a small gallery, another door was a sitting room, another was an extra guest room. After the seventh door she found a library. Under other circumstances she would have been delighted to find such a treasure, but at the moment she had to attend to more pressing matters. She would return to explore it later. Finally, Gregor appeared with a pile of fluffy, white towels in his hand.
“I hear you are looking for the washroom,” he greeted.
“Did Monsieur Wolfe send you?” she surprisingly asked.
“I’ve prepared a bath for you also.”
“Oh, I don’t have any clothes—”
“Don’t you worry, my dear. I believe we have a few articles of clothing you can use and have already gotten them for you.”
“I didn’t know you had a library,” Ellena said as the two walked along the hall.
“We have several throughout the estate. Madame Wolfe was a great lover of reading.”
“Lord Wolfe’s wife?”
“No, his mother. Needless to say her son did not inherit her affection for the written word. Do you like to read?”
“Very much so.”
“Then please feel free to use any library you find. Madame Wolfe would be happy to know that they were bringing joy to someone.”
A regal flight of stairs appeared and Gregor lead her up the dark, wooden steps. A golden chandelier hung from the ceiling, softly glowing with hundreds of candles. As she rose higher with each step, Ellena could more clearly see it covered in golden vines and red gems. So entranced, she didn’t even notice they had reached the top of the stairs and she lifted her left foot to take another step, but only found air. She tripped and fell, barely missing Gregor.
“I’m so sorry,” she softly laughed. “Are you all right?”
“I am fine,” Gregor grinned. “But I’m not the one who fell.”
He bent down to help her stand, both were still laughing. Ellena looked down over the banister to see cold, blue eyes watching them. Once he realized she had spotted him, the man quietly turned and disappeared down another passage.
“It’s been some time since any laughter sounded in this place,” Gregor solemnly said. “It feels good to smile again.”
They approached the washroom and Gregor opened the door. Antique vases and beautifully painted tables and shelves filled the room. A porcelain tub was already full and steaming. Next to it was what Ellena guessed was the toilet.
“I’ve placed your clothes there,” Gregor pointed to a small table. “I’ll leave these here also. Simply ring for me when you are done.”
He slipped away, leaving her alone and Ellena’s first action was to properly lock the door. The room smelt heavenly which Ellena soon discovered was due to a white bowl full of an assortment of soaps by the tub.
She had nearly forgotten why she had so badly needed the washroom and she marched over to the toilette. It was clearly as old as the house. It was a lone circular basin with a long chain that hung from above her head. Once she finished Ellena grabbed the wooden handle of the chain and pulled. She was surprised, but also relieved to see that it worked.
Now she could focus on relaxing. Well, relax as much as a young woman could trapped within a strange house isolated in a looming forest. She may not have cared for Monsieur Wolfe personally, but she at least knew he wasn’t going to try and hurt her, not to mention sweet, kind Gregor. She had grown quite fond of the old man.
She disrobed and slipped into the warm water, grabbing one of the
yellow bars of soap. The young woman took her time washing as she scrubbed her skin, but found that leaning against the hard metal tub seemed to send a dull pain throughout her back.
Her stomach began growling, letting her know that it was time to dress and head down for dinner. She didn’t know what time it was and Ellena suddenly realized that she had not seen one clock in the whole house since she had arrived.
She stepped from the water and dried herself with the white towels that Gregor had been so kind to provide, before wrapping it around her body. The clothes were right were Gregor said they’d be, gently folded by a mirror hanging on the wall. She picked the green material up and watched the fabric fall along the floor. It was a dress, a stunning satin dress with white lace and beautifully embroidered golden stitching along the neck and sleeves.
Suddenly a slightly unnerving question dawned on her. Had this dress belong to that man’s mother? Ellena felt uncomfortable at the thought of wearing his dead mother’s clothing, but she did not want to insult Gregor. Not only that, but her old clothes were absolutely filthy. She found a brush next to the dress, guessing that Gregor had put it there she picked it up and began to comb her hair.
She was pulling the dress over her head when she caught sight of her stomach in the mirror. A horrid purple bruise had appeared on her ribcage, already turning green. Her fingers gently touched her discolored skin and she winched. It would take some time for that to heal. She turned around to inspect the rest of her body when she released a cry of disbelief. Her entire back was green and purple. At least it matched her dress, she mused, grateful that ugly bruising was the only result of her nasty fall.
The green fabric tightly clung to her body and she stared at her reflection in the mirror. It did fit her well and accented her features in the most flattering way. Her skin had always been a little on the pale side, thanks to her Irish roots, and lightly sprinkled with freckles. Ellena had always hated her freckles, but in this dress even she couldn’t deny how lovely she looked. She quickly braided her hair and let it fall to the side over her shoulder.
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