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Screaming. All she could hear was screaming all around, and yet there was no one. She was surrounded by darkness, unable to see a thing though her eyes were wide open. Her heart was beating quickly, practically thumping out of her chest. Then all of a sudden it was bright. Too bright, and too sunny. The screaming had ceased though, an improvement to be sure. White roses were everywhere. Turning a full circle, she figured out where she was. The gardens of White Hall. It was a stunning palace, the gardens a true gem. The roses turned blood red. She touched them, and felt a wet and warm substance. Blood. She screamed.

Anne Boleyn woke up in hysterics, screaming. It was the nightmare again. Before she had a chance to ponder the meaning of the dream, before wiping away the tears that came with the nightmare, Anne's governess ran into her room. Terror was in her eyes and a candle in her hand. Miss Elizabeth Giles had obviously been sleeping when she heard her charge's terrified screams and quickly came running, proven by her bare feet and rumpled night shift. "Anne, Anne, are you alright?" she whispered as she sat on the bed and wrapped her free arm around the youngest Boleyn.

The dark haired barely there teenager curled into her governess, who had become very much like her mother. "Yes, Eliza. I'm fine, truly. It was just a dream." But how could she be sure? This was the fifth time she'd had the same dream, it had to have some meaning. Roses that had blood on them…. Screaming. She had kept the dream itself a secret from Eliza, but she wasn't sure she could do so much longer. Though Eliza was not asking questions now, she surely would sooner or later.

"Nan, what could possibly have you in such a state? This is fifth time I woke to the sound of your screams." Liza gave her a stern look, and Anne looked to her hands. Eliza was not one that could be easily dissuaded. The golden haired woman looked as if at one point she was a beautiful woman but her time on earth had hardened her. She had seen a great number of things that most women would not have been able to handle. But it was Eliza's lineage. "Tell me, Nan. I may have a remedy."

Anne exhaled, and gave in. "It's the same nightmare, down to the little details every time. It's completely dark and there's screaming everywhere… and then all of a sudden it's too bright and the screaming stopped, it's silent. I'm in the gardens at White Hall, you know the ones with the white roses? Except they turn red… and I touch them." Her voice trembled, "and instead of feeling like a rose, they're bloody." The dark haired girl looked to her governess, but her face had become a mask, showing no emotions.

Elizabeth Giles had become very good at concealing her emotions, but not because she was a governess. She came from a very long line of watchers. She had been sent to the Boleyn family as a governess but her true intentions were to look for children in the surrounding area who could possibly become slayers. Eliza hoped that with every child she met, none of them would actually be called to fulfill that duty. Looking at the youngest of the Boleyns, Eliza knew her prayers had not been answered. Inwardly she chided herself. Anne showed all of the right signs. She was an active thing, even when she was just an infant. Beyond that her intelligence was well above average, she often bested her brother when it came to school. And she often bested him when it came to more physical activities. The writing was on the wall. She sighed deeply. She knew exactly how she would handle this if it were anyone but the Boleyn children. She was careful not to form attachments to anyone other than those three. But here Eliza was, facing a similar, yet more difficult challenge. "When the sun rises, we will go for a ride. I'll pack a picnic." It was not a question. It was an order.

Anne opened her mouth not in protest, but in curiosity, only for Eliza to wave her hand in dismissal. "I'll sleep in the rocking chair. Tomorrow will be a long day," Eliza interrupted. And with that, Anne settled back in bed but did anything but sleep. She could not and would not have the dream again.

Mary and George Boleyn were quite the heavy sleepers, and had not heard their sister's screams during the night. When they were finished dressing for the day, they went to the kitchen where they regularly broke their fast with Anne and Eliza. But instead of finding the two enjoying breakfast, they found a note.

Mary, George,

Anne and I woke early and left to ride for town. You are free to spend the morning as you please,

though I would prefer it if you stayed in the house and studied.

Especially you, Mary. You've been neglecting your French.

Eliza

Geroge couldn't help but smile. His poor elder sister was always neglecting her French, and Eliza was always on her case about it. He relayed the information to Mary, but not without adding a teasing remark: "I suppose you won't be able to meet that stable boy you know father disapproves of." Mary crossed her arms and glared at her brother.

Eliza and her charge broke their fast early that morning, as soon as Anne was dressed. Eliza had already woken the stable boy, whom she suspected Mary was enamored of, and had him quickly saddled Anne's chestnut mare and George's dapple mare. The governess rushed Anne through her usual morning routine, much to the dark haired beauty's disgruntlement. But soon they were mounted, and the golden haired woman took off expecting the younger girl to follow. She did. Anne had always been a good horse woman. She had been able to negotiate the nearby forest's various obstacles since she was a small child, but today Eliza was riding faster than what Anne felt comfortable with. Something was most certainly odd, but she couldn't keep up with her governess long enough to actually ask what the matter was. So instead she paid careful attention to the branches hanging low so as to miss them rather than fall off her horse because of them. Finally, the older woman stopped outside of a small cottage. She dismounted and tied her horses reigns to to a ring on the side wall. Anne did the same, and followed her governess inside.

What she discovered was incredible. The walls were lined with bookshelves from floor to ceiling, and every square inch of the bookshelves had some sort of book. Towards the back of the cottage was a table and matching chairs. But what surprised Anne most were the weapons that made the floor space feel cluttered. There was every type of weapon imaginable, from swords to crossbows, lances, and the new fangled rifle. But what Anne picked up on were the wooden stakes. Though Anne was trying to put the pieces of the puzzle together, she still had obviously not connected the dots. That's when Eliza finally spoke up, "You have always been extraordinarily gifted, Anne. You pick up dances quickly, far more so than any girl ought to. You're embroidery leaves some to be desired... but I know you enjoy fencing with your brother. I've even caught you two in tennis matches now and again. And you always best him."

Anne wandered about the cottage, but noticed one book in particular. It sat on top of the table, directly in the middle. The cover read, "VAMPYR". A horrified look crossed her face, as she looked up to her governess. She connected the dots.