The snow had fallen and covered the manor in a blanket of white. It covered the property and wrapped it snuggly in silence, safe behind the wrought iron gates. It covered the ashes of the fire and it glowed under the moon.
The silence woke her, the silence of the manor was unnatural. She sighed deeply and found it hurt to swallow. Her lips were chapped and she rolled her head to the side, looking for the night stand. The moon in her glory shone inside the room, letting her see what she needed. Cecilia winced in pain but was able to prop herself on her pillow and reach over to the glass that had been filled with water. She took a shaky sip and grimaced as the stale water slid down her throat. It made her cough and she lay back down.
Cecilia lay against the large pillows, just resting. She could feel the hair sticking to her face and a throb in her abdomen. She looked out the window and into the night. She could see the snow, but the sky was clear. How long had she been asleep?
After gathering her strength she slowly began to crawl out of the large, soft, warm bed. She grabbed the dressing down that had been placed near her and wrapped herself in it. Her feet slid into the slippers and with a steadying breath, she forced herself to stand. Cecilia wobbled a bit but was able to stay upright. The slippers shuffled across the room to the window and her fingertips brushed against the cold glass. The moon illuminated the property and she took a moment to observe the quiet, breathe it in. She could see foot prints in the snow and she smiled. Of course the staff would be making snowmen, snow angels, snowballs. A part of her wished to have joined them.
Cecilia pushed off the window sill and shuffled across the room to the table that held the candle holder. She slipped her finger through the loop and lifted the unlit candle to her face. She gently blew and watched as the soft glow of fire began to illuminate the place.
The clack of the door unlatching echoed through the halls, resonating like a dripping sound in a catacomb and she stepped into the hall, letting the door slowly creak shut. The silence was broken by the shuffling sounds of slippers against the rug as she made her way down the hall. Cecilia did her best to ignore the looks and stares from the portraits, keeping her eyes ahead of her.
Cecelia wandered through the night, hearing no indication of life other than her own shuffling feet.
"Hello?" She called as she came to the stairs leading to the atrium. There was no response. With a grip on the banister, she slowly began to make her way down the steps, the tapping of her feet echoing through the empty room. Only when she reached the bottom of the steps did she notice a sliver of warm light cutting across the floor. She followed it to the door that was slightly ajar. As she waited, Cecilia could hear voices and she made her way over to the room. The voices hushed as the she gently knocked.
"Come in." Sebastian's gentle voice called to her and for a moment she felt like a child approaching her parent's room with a bad dream. She pushed the door open slowly and blinked until her eyes could adjust to the light. "Ah, I see you are finally awake." Sebastian said and she heard his footsteps growing closer. The more she blinked the easier it was to see and she could see him walking closer. She stepped back from his outstretched hand, eyeing the white glove warily and she wanted to slap the smirk from his face.
"My, my you are such a troublesome patient." Sebastian tutted as he gently placed his hand on her elbow and the other on her shoulder, guiding her to one of the sofas in the small sitting room. Cecilia stared, face hard, at the guest sitting across from her.
"Every time I see you, you look on the brink of death." Undertaker giggled at her. "No need to go to such extremes to see me, dearie." Sebastian grabbed the tea and poured a glass, gently handing it to her, making sure she could hold it before he let go.
"Is it poisoned?" Cecilia asked dryly, her eyes not leaving the Undertaker and his polite smile.
"No such luck tonight." Sebastian told her in his polite voice. Cecilia quirked an eyebrow without looking away from Undertaker.
"Pity." She sighed and took a sip. The aroma of the tea told her it was simple chamomile, but the flavor was so wrong. Cecilia scrunched her face, closing her eyes and choking on yet another drink and Sebastian deftly took the drink from her as she covered her mouth with her hands. She tasted the bile, the soot, the blood and had to struggle not to vomit.
"Are you alright?" Sebastian asked her once her coughing had subsided, true concern absent from his tone.
"Just an after effect." She dismissed. "It should pass in a few days."
"You've been asleep for a few days." Sebastian pointed out and she turned to him, eyebrow raised. "Should it not have passed by now?"
"How long have I slept?" Cecilia asked the butler. His tone was the same as she remembered, polite and nothing more.
"This is the third night." Sebastian answered her. "It seemed you needed the rest and it appears you still could benefit from it. Why exactly have you joined us at this late hour?"
"I've been sleeping for long enough." Cecilia answered, wanting to hide her true reason for her presence. Any hopes of keeping her business to herself left her was her stomach grumbled loudly, making the undertaker across from her giggle. She shot him an annoyed look that did not quell his giggles.
"Very well." Sebastian chuckled. "I shall fetch you something to eat. Hopefully it will rest easier on your palette than the tea."
"I recommend something sweet." Cecilia called after him gently, rolling her head to watch him leave. He gave no indication of her suggestion and the door clicked softly behind him, leaving Cecilia with Undertaker. They sat in silence for a moment before the undertaker spoke.
"I hear you helped rid the young earl of a nasty curse." Undertaker mused as he crossed one leg over the other, leaning back, the perfect picture of ease. Cecilia pulled her dressing gown around her tighter. "I am surprised of witch of your talents is so drained."
"Death has a funny way of tiring you." Cecilia pointed out. Her injuries were still healing, too. The energy it took to heal herself, bring herself back from death, and break a curse would be enough to tire anyone. She had been pushing herself too much, so it was no surprise she slept for as long as she had.
Undertaker rose from his seat and slowly made his way over to her, leaning forward, encroaching on her personal space and Cecilia looked up at him, waiting to see if he would once again take advantage of her vulnerability. Her head swam in anticipation at the thought. While he was annoying, she found his company in bed favorable.
"I am curious," He said, letting his voice drop as he rested a hand on her thigh. Cecilia closed her eyes and sighed at the touch. "How does one come back from death? How did you manage such an impressive feat?" Undertaker leaned in close and Cecilia could smell him. She could smell the earth, the wood, the spice and it overtook her senses.
London bridge is falling down, falling down, falling down. That damned song filled her head. Where was she? Where was that little girl?
"Cecilia?" A voice called to her quietly as something cool rested against her cheek. She felt her face leaning into the cool that soothed her flushed skin. Someone chuckled nearby.
London bridge is falling down, falling down, falling down. The song was farther away now and Cecilia rolled her head towards the door, her eyes fluttering open slowly, wincing at the light. She was in that liminal space again, feeling as though she was floating. Time stood still and the white stretched on infinitely. London bridge is falling down, falling down.
"I do wish you had been less careless with her in my absence." A man's voice sighed and another man chuckled again. Cecilia was on the verge of both the liminal and present reality. She could hear that child but saw nothing but white. She could hear the men with her, but not see them.
"I'm alright." Cecilia's voice joined the conversation though she couldn't see them still. She shut her eyes, trying to place herself fully in the present moment. Sebastian and Undertaker watched her, eyes scrunched tight, as she seemed to try to steady herself as she sat there. They waited for a few more moments and the Undertaker chuckled once more as they watched her head roll back and body go limp. She was asleep once more.
"Tricky thing it is." Undertaker commented as Sebastian lifted her off the couch. The butler turned to his guest, listening. "Balancing on that little thread that separates this world from the hereafter. Not a feat many can accomplish."
"Eventually, they all lose their balance." Sebastian hinted at cordially with a smile, as though his words did not describe a horrible fate. "It is only a matter of time."