~O~
The Butterfly Room
The girls were struggling for too long with the table.
"Come on! Lift it!"
"I'm trying!"
They heard approaching footsteps coming from outside and began to panic, quickly struggling harder to get the table upright. They believed it to be Alcina, but it was Sofia who stepped through the door, carrying a basket of grapes in her arms. She looked confused by their expressions; they eventually sighed in relief when she appeared.
"Oh, thank the Black God..." one of them sighed, "It's just you."
Sofia frowned at them, calmly set the basket down before walking over. They backed away, surprised when she lifted the table and set it up against the wall with little difficulty.
"Oh! Thank you." one of the women said. "Your name is Sofia, right? I think I remember they said that before."
Sofia looked at her and gave a hesitant smile, nodding in response. She retrieved the basket and started to walk into the kitchen to sort through them for the wine they would be used in. The other woman followed and looked down at it before looking at her.
"Do you need help with that?" she asked.
Sofia shook her head, though looked appreciative to have been asked.
"I'm Irina." she continued. She paused, furrowed her brow. "You don't like to talk much, do you?"
Sofia stopped sorting the grapes the moment the question escaped her. She laid her hands down on the counter, her expression abruptly more anguished than the other woman was used to seeing. It was a quick change that made her eyes widen slightly and she held up a hand.
"I'm sorry. You don't have to talk if you don't want to."
Sofia smiled, relieved to hear it. She resumed her task of sorting grapes; discarding bruised or broken ones unsuited for wine. Irina helped clean the area around it, talking about her life as a maid outside of the village before she moved there with her father and mother. Sofia simply listened in silence until Hilda entered the kitchen.
"You! Little goat, come with me." she ordered, looking at Sofia. "I have a job for you."
Sofia wrinkled her brow, gesturing to the grapes. Hilda sighed, beckoning to her with one hand. "You may do that afterwards. I need someone to help me lift a few things. Come."
Sofia nodded, following at her side while they walked out into the great hall. They were approaching a room where a man was sitting.
She was astounded by his presence; he was large and looming over her, sitting behind a desk that looked too small for him, surrounded by crates and tables of supplies. He was dressed in a sloppy blue coat and button shirt with blonde hair and he had soft, kind eyes.
"Lady Hilda!" he addressed the old woman at Sofia's side - his voice was loud and friendly, "Good to see you here again. And - Oh! Who do we have here?"
"No one. Don't concern yourself with her." Hilda answered, shaking her head.
He looked at Sofia anyway. "Enchanté. Call me the Duke. I handle trade as you will come to know."
Sofia smiled at him, a little happy with his welcome. He seemed kind.
Hilda gestured to Sofia with one hand. "Pick up those crates and keep them at the cellar door. Do not go down there under any circumstances, are we clear?"
Sofia nodded her head. She started working on picking up one finely-decorated box, departing from the room. As soon as she did, she nearly collided with Alcina. The larger woman frowned, then her features relaxed and she smiled thinly, watching Sofia quickly lower her head to avoid looking at her.
"Watch your step."
Alcina's voice was charming, but carried a thinly-veiled warning that did not go unmissed by her. Sofia nodded and set to work on delivering the bottles as needed through the kitchen. She set the box down, the paused to marvel the designs of the box; black with red and gold trim bearing the Dimitrescu crest. Such work for a carrying box that contained bottles she'd never seen before in her life.
The sounds of hisses turned her attention toward the cellar door. Sofia rose, stared at it in calm silence before departing. When she stepped out into the main hall, she found Hilda on the floor, struggling to stand and hurried over to help.
Hilda sighed impatiently, swatting her hand away. "I have it! Give me room, impertinent little goat."
Sofia immediately backed away, watching Hilda with concern. The old woman huffed, straightened herself and let out a long groan before staring up at her.
"Did you finish what I asked?"
Sofia nodded her head.
"Good." Hilda smiled somewhat.
Sofia watched her as she took a moment to steady herself a little more. When the old woman sensed her look, she let out a small laugh.
"Ahh, I'm old, don't look at me that way." Hilda said, when she read the mild concern lingering in Sofia's look. "I'm not as fortunate to have sustained youth as my Mistress. The Vrăjitoare won't ever change me and I wouldn't want her to. I'd rather die a human than her little plaything."
Hilda reached into her pocket, removed a cloth and began to dab the empty space where her left eye would have been. She noticed the curiosity on Sofia's face and let out a short laugh. She obviously wanted to know about her missing eye, she could tell.
"What are you looking at?" she said, somewhat amused.
Sofia immediately averted her eyes, an apologetic grimace lighting her face.
"The older Mistress ripped it out of my head, if you must know," Sofia explained, as they walked through the hall and up the flight of stairs. "My years of loyalty to the family didn't matter much to her when I sought to protect our Lady from her."
Sofia wrinkled her brow, confused by that.
"Mmm, don't worry your little head thinking too much about it," Hilda told her, with a gesture to the ring of keys around her waist. "I have work to do and you can assist me. Come along."
Sofia followed her up the flight of stairs and they approached a door with intricate carvings of a woman's body surrounded in butterflies. Hilda unlocked the door and pushed it open. Immediately, they were both welcomed by a gust of old air and dust.
Hilda let out a fit of coughs and Sofia sneezed. They entered the room and Sofia noticed the floor was painted marble, furniture and statues were covered in tarps and the room walls were decorated with trophies and framed butterflies of every shape and color. There was still a certain order to the room, despite being lost to the years and covered in layers of dust.
"...then I will have more venison for the castle larder..." Hilda was talking about something. "Perhaps even - Oh! Fancy the butterflies, do we?"
Sofia caught herself staring up at the wall and looked down at Hilda apologetically. The old woman chuckled, looking up at them as well.
"Mistress' father was fond of preservation in every shape and form," she explained, "They are lovely, but such lovely things wither in time when they're trapped for so long under glass."
She sighed, shaking her head as she moved to take them from the walls. Sofia helped her with the ones that remained out of reach. They started collecting them in a wooden chest nearby.
She paused in her work when she noticed the doorway had three scratches on it.
Fingertips ran through them and Hilda caught the gesture. She wrinkled her brow somewhat, tilted her head thoughtfully before clearing her throat. It made Sofia look back at her, abashed and quickly return to her duties.
"Yes, I remember those countless days spent here at the door when the Lady of the House would banish her here in this room," Hilda said, sorting through a box of furs and dresses. "It's one of the places that our Mistress loathes so much."
Sofia frowned.
"A reminder of her humanity lost or the endured abuse," Hilda continued, with a shrug, "Whichever the case, I do not question it."
That was for the best. For anyone, really.
O
A twenty-six year old Hilda stood by the doors, listening to sixteen year old Alcina's ranting inside the Butterfly Room. She could hear her cursing her mother through a speaking tube.
"Well, since I'm confined to this room, I can reflect on your words!" she snarled, "About why I am not allowed to leave in my 'condition'. Why my brothers are off to play soldier while you look at your silly little books and dream of your lost beauty!"
A crashing sound and Hilda winced at the noise, looking back at the door. "Little Mistress, please!" she whispered, in a warning.
"Oh! Look at what I found!" Alcina hissed, with spiteful glee, "Father's lovely glass figurine collection! He certainly went to great lengths to collect them. I wonder what sort of sound they will make against thirteenth century Persian marble!"
Hilda ventured from the door toward the girl's mother; tall, elegant and dressed in red evening robes. Her hair was short, curled along the ends. She carried a candelabrum in her hand and curled her nose at the tantrum from her daughter.
"She can behave like a child as much as she likes," she said, "She is not to be fed. Perhaps an empty stomach will teach her how she shouldn't chase after farmer girl skirt like a common harlot."
Hilda swallowed thickly.
"You have something to add, Hilda?"
"No, Mistress."
"Good." A smile of approval. "I am off to my chambers. Send a maiden to my room and release Alcina in an hour."
"As you wish."
An hour passed and Hilda was careful in sneaking a strawberry torte in her apron. She unlocked the door and found Alcina huddled in the corner of the room, holding her knees in her arms; her face washed with tears and scattered remains of glass figurines were littered everywhere.
"Are you hurt?" Hilda exclaimed, making her way to her side.
Alcina glared up at her, sniffling once before shaking her head. She wiped her eyes and let out an angry hiss.
"I know you wanted to see her," Hilda said, gently. "But... Oh! I've brought you something."
She produced the torte from her apron and Alcina smiled, somewhat pacified by the offering. She took it and bit into the treat. Hilda sat there on her knees, watching her sympathetically. Alcina seemed to be better for it.
"I'll inform the Lord of the House that the dogs found their way in here." she said, with a little laugh.
Alcina tilted her head. "You'd be lying."
"I took a vow to remain loyal and protect you," Hilda explained. She hesitated somewhat, looked troubled. "I would be protecting you."
Alcina seemed to consider that for a moment. She laughed softly, nodding in agreement. She continued to eat her treat in silence, still wiping her eyes before she quietly spoke, her voice sounding small and bitter.
"It isn't fair..."
Hilda smiled sadly. "I know. None of it is."
O
Alcina removed her gloves.
She calmly set them down on the vanity, watching herself in the mirror. She reached up with one hand, paused and noticed the mottled black spots along her fingers as well as the sharp, razor tips of her nails; hiding the long, dangerous claws within. The thing that she was that twisted deep; constantly yearning, constantly hungry.
She looked up toward one of the maids who watched her at the doorway. She beckoned to her with one hand and the woman timidly approached, eyes filled with fear for what was to come. Alcina didn't really think of it. They were always terrified, but their thoughts and feelings mattered not to her. She took what she wanted and they gave even when they didn't want to.
When she took the woman into her arms, she didn't wait to bite into her long, supple throat. A choke, a stiffening of her smaller frame; she was eventually unresponsive and cold, just waiting for it to be over. Alcina could taste the bitterness in her blood as she swallowed every last drop. The disgust and the hatred in its strong flavors filled her head. It was like drinking a cup of cheap wine; it looked pretty at first glance, but it tasted weak and flavorless.
They were all the same. Just food. Unappreciative to the life she'd given them.
Disgusting thing.
She eventually pulled her mouth from the woman's throat with a low hiss, leering down at her with cold indifference.
"Get out of my sight." she ordered, thickly. "Clean yourself up."
The woman didn't even hesitate and held a hand to her throat, rushing from the room. Alcina watched her go, sneering as she cleaned her mouth with a handkerchief. Her stomach was full for now, the pains of hunger satiated. But it wasn't much and very little to satisfy her. Well, they couldn't all be good enough, really; not every bite was enough to savor.
But, for now, it would do to keep her from tearing the entire castle to pieces.
The corded phone at her table suddenly rang loudly, piercing her thoughts. She blinked, stared down at it before picking up the receiver. She knew who was on the other line.
"Mother Miranda." she said, her tone pleasant. "To what do I owe the honor?"
A pause.
"Yes, of course." Alcina smiled now, her earlier ill feelings forgotten. "Yes, Mother Miranda. I will make certain of it. I won't let you down."
She hung the phone up and gave a soft note of approval. This was quite the news; Mother Miranda had blessed her with another opportunity and she was certainly grateful for it.
She rose, ventured out of the room and made her way to the Butterfly Room where she could make out Hilda's voice; she was talking to Sofia, it would seem.
"...The wood won't die. Spill one drop of water on it and it sprouts...and infests your other furniture." she said, "It needs to be properly dry and avoid moisture."
Alcina entered and found Hilda gesturing to the davenport in the corner. When they heard her approach, she smiled thinly as she looked at it as well.
"I once knew a comte in Marseille who dealt with such unpleasant matters of the furniture," she said, amused. She sucked her teeth, savoring the memory. "Ah, sărmanul de tine."
It earned a little smile from Sofia and she lowered her eyes.
Hilda gestured around the room with one hand. "We've boxed up everything with the exception of the furniture. Will that be all, Mistress?"
"Yes, keep the boxes here for the time being. I won't have these tacky little things moved about when I'm in the process of planning a party."
Hilda's brows rose. "A party, Mistress?"
"Mother Miranda promised me new subjects," Alcina explained, showing her teeth in a grin, "After all, humans do so adore their parties, don't they?"
"I see. Of course."
The cunning smile, the glitter of her grey-green eyes as she savored the very thought of new flesh to experience. It was all very routine and Hilda had clearly grown used to her Mistress' fiendish appetites. Sofia had no reaction to them as well. But Hilda found that unusual; rarely did many of those come through with little fear in their hearts.
Still, a servant of House Dimitrescu was nothing but a servant, albeit a curious one.
Someone screamed.
Alcina made her way into the Butterfly Room and she smelled the blood before she even arrived.
When she entered, she was horrified to find Hilda lying on the floor, fresh blood pooling around her head and her eye missing. Her mother was standing, leaning against the table, hair out of place and a fiendish, crazed look in her eyes. This was not her mother - this was an unhinged animal.
"Hilda!" Alcina gasped, horrified.
Her mother looked at her with a cruel smile. "Hilda overstepped her bound, Alcina, dear." she hissed, holding a knife in hand.
Alcina could see it; the eyeball still attached to the knife. She was shaking, struggling to breathe at such depravity. Hilda was still alive as far as she could tell, occasionally seized with convulsions. Her eye was wide, shadowed with delirious pain. She struggled to speak, choking several times.
"M-Mistress, I..." she mumbled.
"What have you done?" Alcina snarled, looking at her mother for answers.
A dramatic sigh and her mother tossed the knife onto the table. "Hilda should know better than to lie to me, Alcina." she said. "She kept your secret, tried to cover for you leaving this castle. What? Don't look at me that way, stupid girl! I will not have liars in my house! And now, because of you, she's going to bleed to death all over your father's floor!"
Hilda was barely conscious to the sounds of effort and struggle from the two of them. She could barely see heels from them both, heard Alcina's soft, triumphant hisses.
"And eye for an eye, mother!" she snarled.
Wet sounds of flesh being pierced over and over again. Low grunts of effort and pain and finally, the sound of a body falling to the floor. Hilda was shaking, letting out a gasp when she felt herself lifted into her Mistress' arms. She was shaking, struggling to find warmth in them.
"Shh, don't worry, Hilda. I always protect what's mine." Alcina assured her.
It was true.
Through all her cruelty to others, Her Mistress was one who kept them alive.
