Circe had slipped into a semi dissociative state while Bela took her around the castle. Cassandra and Daniela trailed behind them, generally only talking to each other.

Her mind was running in circles. Heisenberg had told her that Mother Miranda intended to add her to the family, but he never said anything about a Cadou. Even the name of whatever it was sounded horrifying. And she was to be given one?

Circe didn't want to sound like an actual idiot in front of her apparent nieces, so she didn't ask Bela what it was. She was just nodding and giving small smiles as she was being toured around, just waiting for a moment to collect herself before dinner. It was difficult. Mostly because she could sometimes hear Cassandra and Daniela laughing at what she assumed was her in the background.

It was apparently her lucky day because, by the time they got to the library, even Bela had sensed that she was overwhelmed.

"I keep forgetting about your memory problems. This place is probably a lot to take in so fast," Bela said, taking Circe by the arm and gently setting her down in a lush-looking chair.

"She's probably just hollow up here," Daniela knocking her knuckles to her temple, leaving Cassandra giggling while covering her mouth.

Circe didn't comment.

Bela gave her sisters a sharp look, then waved them away with her hands. They swarmed away with a chorus of laughter. Now that they were out of the way, she spoke to Circe. "I'll leave you here and send the Head Maid." Then she was gone in a wave of flies.

Circe was alone then, and she let herself take a gulp of air. Tears were threatening to show themselves, but she bit them back. At least, if she did end up crying, she could blame it on simply being overwhelmed, but she wasn't ready to let it happen yet.

In an attempt to calm herself, Circe got up and walked over to a case of books. This library was massive and held many books. She wondered if she would be allowed to read them. If not all, then perhaps some.

There were books of all kinds. Books on history, skills, art, and fictional stories. With all of these, you could occupy your time for months, maybe even years. She would love to just curl up with a massive stack and read all day long. The thought beckoned her.

This made Circe wonder how long it took to cultivate a collection such as this. To be fair, they did seem to be wealthy, but did they buy them in bulk, or were they purchased one by one? Perhaps it was just because of generational cultivation.

A few of her questions were answered by context clues. The deeper she went into the library the older the books got. Some were even original prints. This must have taken years...decades...

Centuries.

"Lady Zero."

The apathetic voice of Head Maid Cynthia startled Circe from her ponderings. "Oh! You frightened me," she said, hand in her chest to calm her heart.

"My apologies; that was not my intention," her bow was low. "I only came at the request of Lady Bela."

Circe let out a breath and composed herself. "Oh, yeah, she did say that, didn't she," she said, managing to smile a little.

"Do you require any assistance, Lady Zero?" Cynthia asked as she straightened up.

Circe contemplated for a moment, looking back at the books. "Am I allowed to ask you questions?" She finally asked.

"Of course. Ask anything you wish."

She couldn't just ask anything as Cynthia said, but she might be able to get something useful out of her. Circe turned back to her. "How old is this castle?"

"It was established sometime during the fifteenth century," came the reply, but she kept going much to Circe's delight. "The Dimitrescu family took hold here during the seventeenth century."

"Um. How long has it been in Lady Dimitrescu's charge?" She didn't know if it was rude to ask.

"Mid-nineteenth century, exactly."

Circe's eyes widened. "How old is she?"

"She was born in the early nineteenth century. She was forty-four when Mother Miranda gave her a Cadou."

Well, now she was brought back to her previous fears. She felt she could actually ask Cynthia. "What is a Cadou? Bela said Mother Miranda was going to give me one."

"It is the ultimate gift, Lady Zero," she said like it was the most normal thing in the world.

Circe's head dipped down. It didn't sound like a gift. "But what...is it?"

Cynthia simply stared at her for a moment without responding. Her expression never changed from one of boredom, except for the slight smile on her lips. She then blinked a few times and tilted her head. "I suppose I do not know the answer to that, exactly."

Circe sighed, defeated, and turned back to the books. "May I read these books?" Hitting a dead-end had entirely demotivated her.

"Read all the books you wish."

Circe picked one and took it to the chair she was sitting in earlier. Cynthia remained in the room, standing prim and proper. They spoke no words, and Circe fell into a mystery series.

The main character is a woman searching for the person who killed her sister. She is strong, smart, and always knows what to say. She had men falling over her feet, and she used that to her advantage. She never showed any actual interest in any of them.

Then she came across another woman.

It did not surprise Circe that Lady Dimitrescu enjoyed lady with lady romance, and she couldn't deny it was tastefully written. For some reason, she enjoyed this romance more than The Notebook. Maybe she would be allowed to borrow the series.

Cynthia pulled her from her mind by alerting her that dinner was ready. She had no idea how she knew this since she could see no clock in the room around her. Regardless, Circe got up and put the book in its proper place, and followed Cynthia out of the room.

On the way there, she had to bury a feeling of anxiety that was bubbling within her. She was hoping she could excuse herself after dinner and just go to her room. Perhaps she could get Cynthia to bring her some books from the library so she could read before she went to sleep.

Soon they arrived at the dining room. Lady Dimitrescu and her daughters were already seated, and Cynthia guided Circe to a chair in-between Bela and Lady Dimitrescu, who was sitting at the head of the table. She took her seat, making a point not to look at Cassandra and Daniela sitting in the seats across from her.

She didn't want to draw any attention, and she definitely didn't want to antagonize either of them.

"Dinner will be served shortly," Cynthia informed, then walked out of the room.

"Dear Zero, Bella told me you seemed faint earlier. I hope you are faring better now?" Asked the Lady.

"Yes, I'm a little bit better. I just get tired very easily," she lied.

"Hmm," Dimitrescu went. "Perhaps you are not as strong as Mother Miranda believes you to be."

Even though Heisenberg's thoughts were the only ones she was supposed to care about, it still stung to hear this said about her, and directly to her no less.

A door opened and Cynthia walked in. She was followed by a man who was wearing a chef's hat and wheeling in a trolley with plates and bottles of red liquid. He looked like he was attempting to hide his fear.

"Hurry up, man-thing! I want blood!" Daniela hissed.

"Patience, dear," Dimitrescu had focused on Circe again. Guess she didn't want to be interrupted. "So, child. Do you not have any talents?"

"Um. I'm not really sure. Lord Heisenberg said I was average with everything. I could barely hit the target when I was trying to use the bow and arrows," a sheepish smile spread across her mouth. Partly because she was thinking about matching Heisenberg's combat so easily.

"Hmm," Dimitrescu let out in disapproval, while Cynthia and the frightened man put covered dishes in front of everyone. Apparently, she was hoping Circe held more promise.

If only she knew what Heisenberg thought.

"Sounds like a useless waste of flesh to me," Casandra leered, stabbing a piece of meat on her plate the second the chef man had taken the top from it.

He jumped back in surprise, quickly took the top from Daniela's plate, then stood back against the wall. His eyes were glued to the floor.

"Cassandra, as I am well disappointed in the lack of this one's abilities, it does not give you the right to be rude," Dimitrescu took a folded fan from her lap and gave Cassandra's hand a good pop. "I have raised you better than that. She will be family. Apologize."

Cassandra bared her fangs for a flash before screwing on an innocent smile. Her eyes drilled into Circe's. "I'm sorry you're a useless little-"

"Cassandra! To your room! Now!" Dimitrescu's fist slammed on the table, causing Circe to flinch.

Bela put her hand on Circe's knee under the table.

"But mother, I haven't eaten y-"

Cassandra's pleas were in vain. "Do not talk back to me! To your room immediately!" Her voice could very well be vibrating through the whole castle with how powerful and booming it was.

Cassandra whimpered as she burst into flies and flew from the room.

Now Circe had to worry about that. She had no doubt Cassandra would blame her for this

"Chef boy!" Dimitrescu barked.

The frightened man against the wall stumbled forward, hands shaking uncontrollably. "Y-yes. Y-yes my-"

"Quit with your garbled noises, and take Cassandra's dinner to her room."

Without another sound, the chef took Cassandra's plate, put it on the trolley, and left the room.

Circe couldn't help but feel bad, even though she didn't really do anything wrong. Well, except she lied, but that was something different. "I'm sorry if I've been an inconvenience," she said, eyes looking at the perfect-looking sandwich on her china plate.

She felt out of place. At least everything was clean.

The sandwich should be sloppier, though. They tasted better when sloppy.

"No need. You've been nothing but agreeable," the lady waved her hand dismissively.

The rest of dinner went on without incident. Dimitrescu, Bela, and Circe all had a little bit of small talk. Daniela was pouting the whole time, and she kept giving Circe many glares whenever Dimitrescu wasn't paying attention.

Circe was trying her hardest not to care. She didn't like the fact that the way she was looking at her made her feel horrible. It wasn't like she was nice to her, anyhow. So why should she care? She shouldn't have to worry about what any of them think.

When Circe was finished with her sandwich, she excused herself by saying she was tired, and Lady Dimitrescu let her leave with a wave of her hand. Cynthia showed her how to get to her room. It was on the second floor and easy to get to, which Circe was grateful for.

Then again, this meant she was easy to find.

Cynthia opened the door and let Circe walk in first. The room was decorated in the same fashion as the rest of the house. The bed had a silk red comforter on it, and too many pillows for it to be used practically.

"This will be your room anytime you stay here," Cynthia said from behind.

Circe turned to her. "So the things in here...are mine?"

"Yes," Cynthia nodded once. "There are clothes in your dresser. Your bag is in the trunk at the end of your bed."

Circe looked behind her and took in the sight of the black trunk. She was about to walk over when Cynthia spoke.

"Would you like me to leave you to yourself, Lady Zero?"

Circe spun around in her heel. "No-" she stopped herself from sounding so desperate. Clearing her throat she spoke again. "Um. Would you mind bringing me some books from the library?"

"Of course. Do you have any preferences?" Her head tilted robotically to the side.

Circe told her the name of the mystery series and mentioned she could also bring some books about art if they had any. Cynthia left Circe alone after a deep bow. She walked to the dresser and rested her palms on the cool wood.

The day felt like it went by so fast. It felt like only an hour ago she had been with Heisenberg, but it had been quite many more than that. Now she was alone for the second time, and her thoughts ran away from her.

Bela was sweet, but that didn't make Circe feel any better. Bela was still glad that Mother Miranda planned on giving Circe a Cadou.

It was pretty obvious that Cassandra and Daniela both hated Circe, and it had only been amplified during dinner. She was afraid of one of them seeking revenge during the night. At least, she felt like Lady Dimitrescu didn't mind her too much.

The chef man, however. He was so scared. It looked like he wanted more than anything to be out of this castle. What had been done to him?

What were they eating?

Circe had been avoiding their dinner at all costs. She didn't want to accidentally let anything slip. But she was sure it was raw and bloody, and she could feel her stomach churning at the thought of it.

So what was in the wine? Blood?

She wanted to be done with this. She wanted to sneak out and just go right back to the factory. She almost felt willing enough to cross over that rickety bridge if she had to.

"Lady Zero."

The sound of Cynthia's voice gave Circe a start and she straightened herself quickly. "Thank you, Cynthia."

She was holding a large tote bag filled with books. It actually seemed like it would be heavy, but she held it like it was nothing. She walked over and set it down on the dresser. "No need to thank me. I am here to serve you."

"You didn't have to bring me so many," Circe said, her voice small.

"I thought you would like some variety," she replied, as she began making neat stacks of books.

"Th-thank you," Circe repeated.

"Are you well, Lady Zero?" Cynthia asked bluntly, never faltering in her movements.

"I-" Circe didn't know what to say. Perhaps Cynthia had been watching her for a moment before she alerted her of her presence. "Um, I'm just. Just overwhelmed. Everything feels like it is happening so fast.

Cynthia paused and looked at Circe. Though her expression never changed from one of emotionless stone, it really felt like she was looking for something within Circe. Like she was analyzing her. If so, then why?

Circe suppressed a shiver.

"Shall I help you feel at home?" Cynthia asked finally.

"Wh-what do you mean?" Honestly, Cynthia was the first person who made her feel welcome, even if she was still uneasy about it. But given this, did Cynthia feel like she wasn't doing her job well enough?

"Would you like me to help you calm down? Relax?" Cynthia put down the book she was holding and fully turned to Circe.

"How would you help me relax?" Was she being toyed with? Should she run? She just didn't know if she could trust her quite yet.

Cynthia suddenly turned around and opened a drawer to the dresser. Stepping to the side, she extended her arm in a gesture towards it. "Pick out what you wish to wear to bed."

Circe blinked. This was certainly not what she was expecting. "Oh-" she stumbled towards it, "-o-okay."

Cynthia began walking around the room, closing curtains and lighting candles. "Put the clothes on the bed when you have decided."

Circe let her fingers run over the different fabrics in the drawer. She was drawn to the feeling of silk and found herself touching every piece she could find. She picked out a pearl white nightgown that reminded her of Lady Dimitrescu's dress, just less gathered fabric.

She went and placed it on the bed. The feel of the room had changed, and it actually felt cozy with all of the candles Cynthia had lit. The fragrance they were emitting was also pleasant, and it made her want to just sit down, close her eyes, and focus only on that.

Cynthia opened the only door other than the exit. It revealed a porcelain bathroom, again with golden accents. The tub was huge; the water would probably reach past Circe's shoulders while sitting down.

Cynthia lit some more candles, then went over to start a bath. Steam began filling the room.

So she actually wanted her to relax?

Cynthia walked over to a rack of shelving that held various items. "Do you like any of these fragrances?" She asked.

Circe looked them over and picked up the ones that caught her eye. She couldn't find anything like that honeydew smell she had back at the factory, but there was one called lavender that she quite liked. She picked up the purple bottle and handed it to Cynthia.

She walked over to the bath and poured some of it directly on the running water. Foamy bubbles began to form, and the room smelled wonderful.

"Would you like me to help you bathe? Wash your hair for you?" Cynthia asked suddenly.

The casual way she asked it made Circe think of when Heisenberg had asked her the same thing that first night. She looked down, hoping the curtains if her hair hid her cheeks. "N-no. I c-can do it."

"Very well." Cynthia bowed and went for the door.

"Wait! Will you be waiting outside? In my room?" Circe rushed.

"Of course, Lady Zero," and with what Circe could have sworn was a smile, she left.

Circe gathered herself and undressed, leaving her clothes in a woven basket next to the rack. The water was at a perfect temperature. The bubbles tickled her skin as she sunk down, and she couldn't help but let out a sigh. Cynthia was right to draw a bath. Circe's muscles were already beginning to relax.

Circe was beginning to like Cynthia more and more. Maybe it was just because she was supposed to do these things, but Circe really appreciated how she was going the extra mile to make her comfortable.

"It will be over soon," she whispered to herself, ringing out a water-soaked rag on her face.

As long as she had the protection of Lady Dimitrescu, Bela, and Cynthia, Circe felt like she might actually be able to get used to it here. Of course, it would never compare to the familiarity of the factory, but it couldn't hurt to enjoy her stay while it lasted.

It seemed like she would have to return sometime in the future, anyhow.

The bath soothed her, and by the time she was done, Circe felt drowsy. She tied a soft robe on, then walked out of the bathroom in a daze.

Her room smelled different than before. She realized that it smelled almost exactly like the bubbles she had picked out.

Cynthia was wafting smoke from a stick around the room with a foldable fan. "How do you feel, Lady Zero?" She asked.

"Much better," she admitted.

"Splendid," Cynthia stopped fanning and pointed to a changing screen. "Your nightwear is draped over the screen over there," she informed.

Circe dipped her head in thanks, then walked behind it. She could see the shadow of Cynthia walk over to the bed. It looked like she was messing with the pillows.

She shed the robe and slipped on the nightgown. It felt like a river on her skin. She couldn't help but run her hands over her thighs as she sat in the pincushion stool.

"How long have you been the Head Maid?" Her mouth moved before she had given it permission.

There was a pause. "Around fifty or so years. I stopped keeping track years ago," came Cynthia's reply.

Fifty years? She barely looked thirty. "Why do you...look so young?"

"I stopped aging," she hadn't stopped methodically moving the pillows when Circe peeked at the shadows on the screen. "Like Lady Dimitrescu."

"What," Circe gulped. "Were you given a Cadou?" She whispered.

"Yes. Mother Miranda bestowed me with my very own Cadou." It was like it was so natural to her.

Circe didn't know what to say quite yet. This meant that Cynthia was experimented on. Apparently, the experiment wasn't too successful, since she wasn't held in high regard.

Then Circe suddenly felt like she was being intrusive.

Circe got up and walked around the screen while holding her own hands. "Sorry if I've asked too much."

Cynthia shook her head as she continued to move pillows off the bed and in a neat pile on a large armchair. "I do not understand why you are sorry, Lady Zero."

"W-well, I just thought. I mean-" Circe fumbled. "This is all just so scary to me, and I don't even know what a Cadou is, and I don't know how you're supposed to get it, or what happens if you do, and I just hope I haven't made you think about bad things."

Cynthia waited for her to finish her little ramble before the corners of her mouth rose up and she stood straight. Was there warmth in her eyes, or was she just imagining it? Any emotion Circe was able to read was always so minute she never knew if it was real or not.

"Do not worry yourself over my well-being," Cynthia assured. "I do not remember what it was like to receive the Cadou. I only remember waking up with Mother Miranda."

"You don't remember?" Circe repeated, nearly recessing into a completely dissociative state once again.

"Yes. Now I feel no pain at all," she continued to blow Circe's mind by the syllable. "Actually, I do not feel much of anything."

"Anything?" Circe murmured.

Cynthia hummed. "Well. I can feel certain emotions. However, they are generally very numb."

This actually made a lot of sense. It explained why she never seemed to mind being yelled at, or why she never appeared to be afraid.

Cynthia moved the last of the pillows on the chair and turned down the bed. "Come now, Lady Zero. You can ask more questions at another time. You told me to relax you, not work you up worrying yourself again."

Circe obeyed. She had to admit she was tired, and even though she was sure she wasn't exactly ready to sleep yet, she definitely wouldn't say no to laying down.

Cynthia pulled the covers over her and tucked them in nicely. She then poured a glass of water on the nightstand next to the bed. "For whenever you are ready," she said, standing straight. "Would you like the book you were in the middle of earlier in the library?"

Did she remember? "Yes, please."

Cynthia flitted across the room and then back with the book now in her hand. Circe was surprised that she had paid that much attention to her.

"Thank you," Circe looked up at her. "Really. This is making me feel a lot better," and she didn't have to lie either. Cynthia was actually helping her calm down.

"I am here for your comfort," Cynthia sat on the edge of the bed. "Now, I want you to read until you fall asleep. Forget where you are."

"Will you watch over me?" Circe almost grabbed onto the fabric of Cynthia's arm sleeve, but she stopped herself.

Cynthia nodded. "I will watch over you if you wish so of me."

"Please?"

Cynthia did that little smile of hers. "Of course, Lady Zero," she then promptly got up and grabbed her one book from the pile, and sat down in an empty chair. She looked at Circe one more time. "Sleep well," then she opened her book and began reading.

Circe followed suit, but she wasn't reading the words at first.

Cynthia had a lot more in common with her than she had originally thought. She both felt bad for her and admired her. Circe felt like she felt everything so vividly. She couldn't imagine how it would feel like for everything to be dull, but she would gather how it might stifle a lot of her anxiety.

Then maybe she wouldn't care about what they thought of her.

Before she let herself get upset, Circe started reading. Right as soon as she was getting to a part where the main character thought she had the right guy when darkness overtook her.