Notes on Chapter One:
Well, my thanks to those who have already reviewed. Here's another, more substantial chapter...
This time, we get to meet a few mor of the characters... In case you're wondering who the maid is, Yuuko is one of Nanami's cronies, the one with the bangs and the kind of flippy bob... Also, look out for A-ko and B-ko... I want to give them a more integral role in this story.
Oh, speaking of which... This is going to be a ghost story, or a horror story, something like that... By gothic, just to warn you, I don't mean, like, fishnet and Marilyn Manson. What I mean by gothic is scary old mansion, crazy people, ghosts... This idea hit me not long after reading Frankenstein, by Mary Shelley, so that might give you a better idea of what I mean. The gothic novel was a very popular for of literature' (although it was probably a little bit more like a glorified pulp horror novel) during the Romantic period, when this is set. I'm probably messig with time a little bit, because this way be more Victorian than Romantic, although there is sometimes little separation between the two periods.
Anyhow. Please, continue to let me know how you all like this. I'll love you forever for feedback.
Now, before these notes wind up being as long as the prologue...
SnM




Tenjou Utena was past the point of good humour. Her bags, somehow heavier now than ever, the rain, her water-weighted garments - it was all nearly enough to make her scream.

And then it happened. The light sparkled through the rain and fog like some will-o-the-wisp come to guide her eternally through the moors. For a moment, she considered the possibility, but, no, Tenjou Utena did not believe in fairies and sprites, and, besides, the flickering light was stationary. She sighed with relief. It had to be a house, no light without a shelter could sustain itself in such a downpour. No one,' she thought, could possibly turn me out in weather like this... I shall have a place to stay, if luck is on my side, until this weather subsides.'

Pleased with her change in luck, the heiress trudged on, heading towards the light. Although perhaps it was a side-effect of her relief, her bags felt lighter, and her layers of petticoats did not seems to scratch at her legs so unbearably.

She stopped momentarily as one of her feet sunk into the rain-soaked earth. She struggled with it for a few moments, and came to find that her foot was nearly inexorably stuck in thick, unforgiving mud. With a sigh, she set down her bags on a log that was within arm's reach, and set about undoing the many, tiny buttons on her white boots. At least they were ruined, anyway,' she thought to console herself. In fact, the entire ensemble, one of her nicer traveling suits, was probably past the point of salvaging. She'd been walking in the rain for some time, and rain and silk did not meet well. My favorite colour, as well,' she thought glumly, glancing down at the now-muddy rose-coloured silk. She hoped that the rain had not penetrated the leather of the her two valises. It would be a pity if all my clothes were damaged. My dear Aunt would not be pleased in the least...'

Having left one of her leather boots behind in the mud, Utena picked up her bags and continued on towards the light she'd spotted, which, as she continued to close in on it, appeared to be more than the light of a single candle, or even of a gas lamp. I do believe it is a house,' Utena said to herself, quite pleased. And it seems like a rather large one...' She could now only imagine that the light was emanating from a well-lit room, on a second- or third-story room, perhaps a sitting room... She didn't exactly know what time it was, but she knew that it was certainly quite late. She'd been considering sleep when her carriage had stopped, stuck in the mud, and that had been hours ago. She wondered who in a large household, for any home in the middle of such a large forest, with more than one story, had to be a mansion of some sort, would be up at such an hour. A maid, perhaps,' she decided. Well, if I knock loudly enough, she'll hear me, no matter the hour. And if I wake the master of the house up, it's all for the better, I should think. Perhaps they will have seen my driver and footman...'

The forest began to thin out quite suddenly. However, in a flash of sky-splitting lightening, Utena became aware that the clearing was not natural. The space, which seemed to stretch on indefinitely to both her left and her right, had obviously been cultivated - it was a carefully tended arbor, of sorts. In the distance, a large, sprawling structure was clearly visible against the lightening-lit sky.

A few minutes later, she came upon a wrought iron fence. It seemed to outline the grounds of very large manor house, which sat on a slight hill several hundred yards away. The fence, which had an intricate rose pattern, was quite tall, but Utena quickly found the entrance. She pushed at the gate, and, with a terrible screeching sound that rivaled the noise of the wind, it opened, admitting her into the manor's property. Thank goodness I didn't have to climb that old fence,' she thought gratefully. Picking up her valises, she stepped into the yard, pushing the heavy gate shut behind herself.

Inside the boundary of the gate, the land was very different. Although it was still drenched with rain and misty, there were fewer trees, and those few were in full bloom with pale petals, although they were heavy with water. But what most struck Utena was the multitude of pale roses, also in full bloom, which seemed to cover almost every bit of earth on the manor's grounds. She stood for a moment simply absorbing the sight of the sprawl of pale roses in the dark, stone-paved paths winding through the yard, with to occasional tree, or overflowing fountain, or pale sculpture rising from the low-lying mass. Another fearsome bolt of lightening illuminated what seemed to be a copse of trees and several smaller buildings at the back of the property, some distance away.

Utena stood in awe of the manor's grounds for a few moments more, but the terrible weather drove her into action. It seemed, to her fatigued body, that the rain was howling more viciously now, and that the rain was pouring, although she hadn't though it possible, even harder than it had been before. So, taking a deep breath, she turned towards the impressive mansion, and started walking up the long path.

The mansion itself was built entirely of pale stone. Utena thought that the large manor, like the flowers, and the stone paving the walkways, and the fountains, would have been white, had it been daylight. Utena sighed. She had not seen daylight in some time...

As she approached the building, the young heiress noted that all of the manor's curtains were of a heavy, black cloth, which totally blotted out any light that might have shine inside. The only room that didn't have its curtains drawn was on the far right, on the third floor of the five-story mansion, the source of her savior light.

The door the the manor was made of a thick, well-polished, dark wood. The huge door knocker was a silver hoop attached to a base in the shape of a giant, blooming rose. What a strange theme these people seem to entertain,' Utena said to herself as she set down her baggage. She lifted her hand and, grasping the ring firmly, she knocked forcefully three times.

A few minutes passed. She knocked again. The rain beat down unbearably. Just as she was considering taking shelter, uninvited, in one of the buildings she had seen in the grove of trees, Utena heard a noise. Footsteps!' she thought gleefully. The sound was muffled by the thick door, and nearly drowned out by the screaming wind, but Utena caught it nonetheless. Suddenly, even the weight of her clothing didn't seem to terrible, and she was ready to wait another few minutes for shelter.

The large door opened inward. The sigh Utena was met with was a rather pleasing one, at least to her fatigued mind. A young woman in a fashionable, black crepe gown stood in front of her. The lady's hair was a lovely purple shade, done up in curls and rolls, pushed back from her face, and held with a series of jet combs. She wore no cosmetics, but her coffee-coloured skin was nearly flawless on its own. She smiled at the bedraggled heiress, and her sad, green eyes seemed to say volumes to Utena. A maid?' Utena wondered briefly. But, no, she was much too finely and stylishly dressed to be anyone's hired help.

she said, her voice so soft that it was almost carried off by the wind. What a dreadful time to be -

Lady Saionji.

A young gentleman in a smart, white suit appeared behind the woman. He had startlingly blue eyes, and long, red hair, the same shocking colour as the accents on his suit. Lord Kiryuu, the young woman said, looking between the redheaded man and the soaked girl standing in the doorway.

What, exactly, are you doing? he asked, his voice smooth and crisp, like his suit.

... My apologies, Lord Kiryuu. There was a knock at the door... You were - she looked warily at Utena - engaged... So I took it upon myself to receive our guest...

That is quite enough, Lady Saionji, the redhead said coolly. He glanced at Utena. I will take care of our... visitor from here. You may return to your quarters.

The purple haired woman curtsied to the tall man, and then to Utena, and, in a rustling of black crepe, had disappeared up a gigantic spiral staircase.

Utena stared, quite confused. I... beg your pardon, but... She found that she didn't really know what to say.

Mademoiselle, I suppose you seek shelter from this storm, the tall redhead said smoothly, gracing Utena with a charming half-smile.

I... Yes... She shook her head. She was normally so composed. It must have been fatigue. Sir, my name is Tenjou Utena... My carriage was abandoned by my team some ways back... I've been walking, hoping to find some sort of reprieve from this storm, for hours. I saw the light on, and... Well, I hope I'm not imposing...

The smile dropped from the man's handsome face, his expression becoming unreadable. He was silent for a moment, and then smiled again in a most disarming fashion. Well, do come in, he said finally. Here, let me take those bags for you. You must be dreadfully exhausted, my dear lady. I shall call one of the maids, and have her show you to a room. Please, come in, come in.

As the redheaded Lord Kiryuu' ushered her in, Utena couldn't help but feel some deep sense of apprehension. This was all too strange... Her coach team's disappearance, the flickering light, which could be seen through the storm even at a considerable distance... The open gate, the huge, white manor house surrounded by white roses... The odd way this man had treated that woman in black... And now, the interior of the mansion... It was certainly not lacking in terms of style or beauty. Everything, from the woodwork, to the molding, to the paintings, to the imported rugs on the hallway floors, was absolutely exquisite. The house was well-build, magnificently so, in fact, and it was stylishly well-decorated. But, Utena couldn't help but notice, there were few lights on in the house, and even fewer people in sight. Perhaps this could be credited to the late hour, but the Kiryuu fellow seemed to have at least on maid on call... She couldn't shake the strange feeling that accompanied the presence of this house and its occupants. This place,' she thought to herself, is... dead...'

As the maid, a young woman Lord Kiryuu has introduced as Yuuka, or Yuuko, or something, escorted her to her room, Utena couldn't help but notice that the shadows cast by the maid's candelabra bore an uncanny resemblance to the figures of two young women.