Author's Note: Hi Everybody! I am hoping that you all enjoy this new story... we'll give it a go and see what you all think. Please R&R and let me know if you like it so far. Enjoy!

The fire blazed all around. The heat was so intense, the smoke so thick that I coughed, trying to clear my lungs of the smoke. I could hear people behind me, men, laughing and making jokes, as though they were watching a sporting event. I turned in time to see one of the men, a tall, broad man, spot me hiding in the bushes, and start to make his way quickly towards me. I got up and ran, fleeing into the forest. I had to get away, run as far away as possible…

The fire was spreading rapidly behind me as I stumbled away as fast as I could. If either the man or the fire caught up with me…

A force from behind knocked me off my feet to the ground, crushing the air out of my lungs. The man grabbed my arms and tried to force them behind me. His knee dug into my back, and my neck was pressed against a rock, cutting off my air. I struggled, but it was no good; he was too strong. I could feel the heat of the fire gaining behind us, gaining, bringing along with it the thick, black, choking smoke…

My eyes snapped open, and my breathing heavy; my body drenched in sweat. I focused on calming my heartbeat, bringing it down to a semi-normal rate. I had been having this nightmare for as long as I could remember. Well, that's not entirely true. Since I was six. Six and eight months, to be exact. However, the dream was fading slightly now, since eleven. I couldn't't see the man's face anymore, nor picture the burning house. Only a shadowy face and vivid fire were there, where sharp, clear memories had once been.

I changed my thought train. Best to start thinking about the rest of the day, not dwelling on the past. I had learned this the hard way. The past isn't't going to help you survive the present, so you might as well focus everything on just staying alive. Going back to sleep wasn't an option; I wouldn't be able to so much as shut my eyes again without the image of the fire burning in my head. Besides, I could hear the sounds of the day's baking being started in the kitchen. I'd have to get up in another forty-five minutes anyway.

I eased myself out from under the blankets and into the cold, pre-dawn air. It was never warm in the servant's quarters in the morning, but usually a fire was lit in the hearth, taking the crisp edge out of the air. Apparently the fire-tenders hadn't made their rounds yet. My feet hit cold stone floor, and a chill ran up my spine. I felt around my bedside table for the candle and matches I had left there last night. Finding them, I lit a match and then the candle with a practiced ease. I was good at doing things in the dark, seeing as the castle was dimly lit during the day and nearly pitch black at night.

Shadows flickered off the stone walls of the small room. It was not bigger than a closet; just big enough to fit a cot covered in two thick blankets, and a small night table next to it. A chair sat pushed in the corner by the door, and the day's outfit sat slung over the back of it. It was a threadbare dress, a grayish color, with three-quarter length sleeves and a simple V neck. Stains were spattered on the skirt, but they were covered by the cream apron that I wore over it.

I slipped quickly into the dress, shivering as the cold material hugged my slender frame, and neatly folded the nightgown I had been wearing. I opened the drawer of the night table and placed the nightgown on the small pile of clothes that already occupied the drawer. Servants weren't allowed many comforts, if any, but I was more fortunate than most. Just the two outfits that I owned, along with my pen and paper, were such a blessing. So was the room, along with the blankets and cot. The other servants in the household all slept in one large room; some with cots, and some just with pallets on the floor. They all thought I was lucky to have these meager comforts, but they didn't know that I would give all of these and more, just to be a normal servant like them. Only having to worry about doing the daily chores and doing them right.

I slipped on my shoes and reaching for my candle, quietly opened my door. I shivered again as another cold blast of air hit me from the hallway. I turned to the left, walking down the stone corridor, and into the large room at the end.

The kitchen was already bustling with activity. Three or four girls hustled around the kitchen cooking breakfast so it would be ready for the rest of the servants before they had to start work. I sat down at the small wooden table that sat off to one side and watched the action for a couple of minutes, immersed in my own thoughts.

A hand came down gently on my shoulder causing me to jump. I looked around quickly, but relaxed when I saw it was just the cook, Mary. She was an plump, middle-aged woman, who's hair had grayed prematurely. I smiled at her warmly, glad to see her before the day began.

'Good morning Mary.'

'And good morning to you, Desirae. Another bad dream?' Mary was used to these mornings when I came in early. When I had come to the castle, Mary had been the one to help settle me in. Over the years, she had been like a second mother to me. She was there when I cried, had nightmares, or just needed someone to talk to. She knew me better then anyone else ever could, and she always seemed to know what was wrong, even when I didn't know myself.

I nodded. 'Yea. It was the one with the man again. And the fire. But it's getting fuzzy. I can't remember his face, or the house anymore. Still, I couldn't get back to sleep, so I figured I'd come out here and see you.'

Mary smiled as she put a biscuit and some eggs on a plate for me. Most mornings I didn't eat, but I quickly cleaned my plate so Mary wouldn't scold me for being too thin.

'The dreams will get better with time. You said yourself that they are coming less and less frequently of late. Anyways, what is on your to-do list for the day?' Mary talked over her shoulder as she bustled around the kitchen, getting ready for the breakfast rush.

'Just the usual; laundry, serving, you know. The master is having a dinner party tonight, so I'll have to serve for that.' I made a face. The master's dinner parties were always so long and boring, but I didn't have a choice but to stand waiting to be called on to get more food or drink.

Mary frowned slightly, the wrinkles growing more pronounced on her face. 'You know I don't like you serving those. Just promise me you'll be careful, wont you?'

'Of course.' I rolled my eyes. Just a motherly thing to do, worry about everything.

The first couple servants staggered into the kitchen, still rubbing sleep out of their eyes. I got up from the table and deposited my dirty plate in the sink. Kissing Mary lightly on the cheek, I made my way out the door of the kitchen and into the grounds. I had about a half hour before my duties started, so I hurried out to the stables for a quick visit. I stopped at a stall halfway down the aisle and clicked to the horse that was in it. He made his way to the stall door, which read Apollo, and rubbed his head against my hand. He was a beautiful chestnut color, with black mane and tail and white sock on his front two legs.

'Good Morning my little beauty.' I whispered. 'Sorry but I didn't bring you anything today… you know how much trouble I got into the last time I brought you a snack.' Apollo looked at me with his large brown eyes, almost knowingly, but I could see he was still waiting for a snack. The last time I had brought him one, just a simple carrot and an apple core, the stable master had caught me. I lost my meals for the rest of that day and the next. He said that if I wanted to waste good food on feeding animals, then I would be giving them my own dinner.

I loved Apollo as if he were my own. I had been there when he was born, and had helped Mira, the stable girl, raise him when his mother had abandoned him. Riding him, however, was out of the question. The servants weren't allowed to so much as saddle one of the master's horses without dire consequences. Oh, just for one ride on this beautiful creature…

I stood there admiring him for a few more minutes, then when up and down the rest of the aisle patting all the horses as I went. Once I had made sure I saw every horse at least once, I made my way back to the castle and back into the kitchen to grab a plate of breakfast to bring up to the master. One of the girls who had been working there earlier handed me the silver tray, giving me a sympathetic look, and glancing longingly at the contents of the tray. Even though the plate was covered, I still knew from experience what was under the lid. Eggs, bacon, biscuits, butter… everything a servant could only dream of. I had learned though, not to think too much about what I was carrying, or else I would go crazy just from the want of it.

Walking out of the kitchen and into the main hall, I clutched the tray tightly, careful not to spill a drop. If I did this right, I wouldn't get into any trouble this morning, and maybe the day would be alright.

I hurried up the main staircase and down a hall ending in wide double doors. Balancing the tray perilously in one hand I took a deep breathe and knocked loudly three times on the door.

'Come in,' came the deep voice from behind the wood. I carefully turned the handle to the right door while keeping the tray balanced. I turned carefully so my back was to the door and used it to push the door fully open while I grabbed hold of the tray with both hands again. It had taken a lot of practice before I had finally gotten the art of opening the doors, but because I had been doing it for seven years, I'd had plenty of time.

As I entered the room, I kept my eyes focused on the plush carpet just ahead of my feet, careful not to raise my eyes above waist height. I set the tray down at the large oak desk that stood facing the door. Pulling the cover off the plate, I set it down in front of the man sitting at the desk, then followed that with the orange juice and silverware wrapped in a napkin. Stepping back, I grabbed the tray and the pitcher, and backed up to stand quietly against the wall while the man ate.

As I backed quickly away, I risked a quick glance up at the master. His real name was Adrian, although if any of us dared to even whisper the name, or any name other than master, we were punished so severely we couldn't walk for days. He was a handsome man by nearly every standard; ink black hair, a handsome face, high cheek bones. A black suit covered his muscular frame, the buttons on the jacket opened to show the white dress shirt underneath. He could have easily passed as a thirty year old business man. But I knew better. The first thing that I had ever noticed about him was his eyes. They were a deep brown, almost black, like everything else about him. But they held a coldness; a hardness that had scared me since the first day I met him.

That day had been just after my parents died, and I had been brought to the castle. I was brought before him, and pushed to the floor at his feet, crying. He had leaned over, put his hand under my chin and brought my tear streaked face up to look at his own. Just seeing his eyes had made me cry harder. I cried for my parents, for my house, my dog. He told me sternly to stop crying, and when I didn't he smacked my cheek, startling me into being quiet. That was my first bruise in the castle, but definitely not my last. And not the only one given to me by the master.

After I first met him, Adrian seemed to take a liking to me. Although I was still a servant by all means, I was given slightly different treatment than the others, as well as small privileges. My room for example, and my pen and paper. I brought the master breakfast from the time I turned ten, and served him whenever he had guests over. I was at his beck and call. No matter what I was in the middle of, if I was called for by the master, I dropped what I was doing and ran to him as fast as I could, even if it was just to sit in his room with him; a presence while he worked. I had found out quickly that speed was essential to the master. If something wasn't done fast enough for him, or it wasn't done to the best quality possible, I was punished either with slaps, kicks, punches, or even whippings. I may have been the master's favorite, but that didn't put me above the same punishments the other's got, if not worse.

'Desirae. Come over here.' I glanced up quickly from my spot on the floor, and saw that he was looking at me intently. I slowly made my way over to where he was sitting, and put the tray and pitcher down next to the now empty plate. Adrian got up from where he was sitting, and motioned for me to sit down. I lowered myself warily into the seat, not wanting to disobey, but unsure of what was going to happen.

Adrian spun the chair around to face a mirror that was hanging on the wall to the left of the desk. He stood behind the chair, watching me carefully in the mirror. I, however, kept my eyes averted. That was another way I had learned to stay out of unneeded trouble. Avoid eye contact, and you seem less rebellious, more submitted. That's how Adrian like to see his servants. Especially me.

I felt, and saw, his hands lay on my shoulders, then slide to my neck, finally resting on my chest right below my throat, his thumbs almost touching behind my shoulder blades.

'What happened to the necklace I gave you?' he asked quietly, just sounding curious, but I knew there was an underlying threat and power that lay behind the question. When I didn't answer right away, his thumbs pressed into my back, not quite painful, but growing closer to pain with every second I stayed quiet.

'In my room. In the night table that you gave me.' The fingers loosened, but my muscles were still tense.

'And what, might I ask, is the purpose of a necklace?'

'To wear.' I was careful to keep my tone respectful and not show a hint of sarcasm.

'Exactly. So do you think that I would give you a necklace just so you could leave it in your drawer?'

'No master. I'm sorry. I won't do it again.' All my muscles were tense and tight, waiting for whatever would happen next.

'This is the only time I am going to warn you. If I see you again without it on…' his threat lingered in the air. I didn't let any of my emotions show on my face, controlling them using the tactics I had learned over all my years of having to conceal them. My mind, however, was racing with fear, anger and anxiety.

Adrian's hands moved up to touch my hair, curling it around his fingers. The brown of the waves contrasted sharply against his pale white skin. We stayed like this for what seemed like eternity; him studying me in the mirror, and me sitting there trying to appear as small and submissive as possible. Maybe I could still make it out…

'Get up.' The command came sharply and unexpectedly, making me jump slightly. Mentally I berated myself for letting him surprise me like that, and even more for letting it show. I stood up carefully, but quickly from the chair, folding my hands in front of me. I lifted my eyes to see that he was coming up behind me. He brushed my hair to one side of my neck and put both hands on either side of my waist, tightly, but not so tightly it hurt. My eyes shut as I prepared for what I knew was going to happen next. And I was so sure I would get out this morning…

Adrian leaned his face in towards my neck and just breathed in my scent for a minute. I braced myself, muscles tensing, legs locking. But all he did was lean in and brush a soft kiss just below my ear. I could hear him chuckling softly under his breathe at my fear, which he must have known was there, as much as I tried to hide it. Mind games. That was another way that he liked to control people, along with physical punishments. After a second he backed up, letting go of me, and sitting back down at his desk.

'You may go.'

I grabbed the tray and pitcher, piled the used dishes back on the tray, and walked at a respectful pace to the doors. As soon as the doors shut behind me, however, I fled down the halls back to the kitchen.