I awoke to whispers from the other side of my door. I groaned and rubbed my eyes; they were swollen from last night. I don't remember how long I had been crying, but from what it felt, it was probably a long time.

"Don't be frightened!"

"But I am! Of course I'm frightened!"

"She's just a girl! Nothing to be afraid of!"

"She's not just a girl! You know that!"

I pulled back the covers slowly and stood on the cold, marble floor. Neither sounded like Beatrice or Lord Bastillion. I gulped. Why were they whispering? One of the speakers sounded nervous and the other sounded frustrated. I reached for the knob, but once my palm clasped the knob, the whispers stopped, and I heard running.

Running...really? They ran away? I just shook my head and turned the knob. I decided to try and find Beatrice; my clothes were beginning to feel uncomfortable, and I couldn't only wear one set for the rest of my stay.

I stepped out onto the red carpet and found myself gliding down the staircase. Thankfully, Lord Bastillion was nowhere in sight. However, neither was Beatrice...

It is morning, so perhaps she is eating breakfast! If only I knew where the dining room was...

I knew it would've been bad if Lord Bastillion had caught me, but I began to wander around, looking through doors and hallways, trying to find the kitchen or dining room. The second floor of the Manor wasn't large at all, but the first floor...was quite an adventure. There were hundreds of rooms! Some that seemed to be guest rooms, others seemed to hold ancient weapons, others held storage, and a few were just simply empty, which I thought to be an unfortunate waste.

And then I came across a peculiar room...a room very different than the others. It was very plain, empty and spotless to the touch, except...in the middle of the room was a rose. It was a simple rose, just a red flower in a small, clear vase on a small, white, circular table. But...it was also breathtaking, I couldn't take my eyes off the little bud. It was the most feverish red I had ever witnessed, and it held such an elegant gleam from the two windows that poured morning sun on its petals. I almost touched it.

"Oh, Dear, you really shouldn't be here." I turned around to see Beatrice, smiling at me, resting her weight on a cane. "Why don't we have breakfast? I'm sure you're rather hungry, aren't you?"

I was about to ask her why this room was off limits, but then I realized I was starving, so I followed her out of the room in silence. We wandered around two corners, and then we came upon a large door. I opened it for us, and there we came upon a grand dining room, large like a ballroom with tall, glass windows ten times the height of me, and a long table that could serve a hundred people. It looked so empty with just us two.

There were candles lit, and a large candle chandelier above our heads. I wondered why they used candles for light? Wasn't that a little dangerous?

"Ah, why don't you sit here and I'll take my seat beside you?"

I nodded, and she motioned me to the head of the table. I gulped, wondering if perhaps this was Lord Bastillion's place at the table. What if he came in and saw me?

Beatrice laughed. "Don't worry, Dear. He never eats breakfast." It was as if she read my mind, or perhaps, she could read my face as my discomfort was probably apparent.

We sat down and we began having small chat, and if asked her if there was any way I could have another change of clothes, or at least pajamas so that I can take off these clothes.

She bursted into a rough chuckle, grabbing the edge of the table for support. She was having trouble breathing, and I stared at her I'm shock. "Pajamas?!" She gasped. "What on earth are those?"

"Oh, um, it's just another word for nightwear." I murmured, suddenly feeling embarrassed, although I knew I shouldn't be. Has she really never heard of the word "pajamas"?

"Well, why use it if it's just a replacement?" She giggled. A lot of words are replacements for other words, doesn't mean we shouldn't use them. "Carl! Carl, I believe miss Rose and I are ready for our tea."

She was ringing a small bell that she apparently had in her dress pocket, and was ringing it consistently, echoing throughout the giant dining room. A man, of about forty or so, stepped out from the door on the opposite side of which we entered from. He smiled, his mustache and circular glasses rising with his grin, and he approached us. He had on a blue shirt with black dress pants, and he had a pocket watch sitting in his pants pocket. "Ah, but of course Lady Bastillion! And what do you desire for your early meal?"

She smiled. "With my tea, well... I think I'll have the usual toast with strawberry jam. How about you, my dear?" She turned to me, nodding reassuringly.

"Um..." I pondered for a moment. "Do you have...pancakes?"

They both gave me a weird look. Then Lady Bastillion seemed to remember exactly what those were, as if she had forgotten. "Ah! Carl, the young lady wants that thick dough that you cook on the stove. Remember? Lord Bastillion had given you the recipe when he traveled to the city."

"Ah!" He nodded, eyes closed as if deep in thought. "But of course, Miss Rose. I will cook it to your delight. Tea will be out shortly." And he turned around and headed for the door, closing it gently behind him.

"You...don't have pancakes around here?" I asked, a little surprised. It was a rather common breakfast dish.

Beatrice stared into my eyes, suddenly deeply concerned. "Rose, do you not understand where you are?"

"I do not know anything, really... Just that I'm here for my safety." I replied honestly.

She sighed, staring at her lap. "Remind me after breakfast to explain. I...think it will be a complicated matter for you to understand." She looked up and smiled gently. "I know of where you come from, though. Maybe I'm not completely aware of all your terms, but I do know how different it is." Carl brought out the tea, pouring each of us a cup, then heading back to the door.

A weird feeling in my gut started to settle, and I was beginning to lose my appetite. What kind of place is this? Am I in another country or something? I knew that was highly unlikely, and I decided perhaps the Manor was just really isolated from the rest of society or something like that.

Carl brought my pancakes, which was covered in strawberries and blueberries and what not, and he brought the jammed toast Beatrice requested.

"Ah, yes. Excellent as always, Carl!" She smiled, and he bowed, his face content and proud.

"Thank you, Lady Bastillion." He smiled, and asked us if we needed anything else. We didn't, so he headed back to the door.

"How about after breakfast, I'll give you a tour around the Manor? And we can talk about your situation in further detail and to a much greater extent than from last night."

I nodded, and put the first piece into my mouth, which watered almost instantly. It was...perfectly made! And when I was finished, I was the right amount of full. How did Carl know what I wanted and how much? I just grinned like a fool and patted my full belly.

Beatrice sipped the last of her tea. "Well!" She took the cane resting against her chair and used its support to raise herself from the chair, and she waved her hand. "We must take a look around, of course."

I nodded, and stood up, heading out the door with her. I turned around to see a head peeking out the door from where Carl had entered. The head retreated as soon as we met eyes, but I felt as if I had already met that person, that an introduction was not needed.