The festival is still a couple of days away, thank gods - which will allow me time to prepare what the hell I plan on telling Lacy. If I even decide to go see her.

And of course, today would be the day that my monthly cycle has made its appearance. But in truth, there's no better place for it to arrive. And perhaps it could be my excuse to not go to the festival.

But of course, the want to see my father and talk with him overrides the need to stay in the house, swaddled in blankets. Even if Donna's cozy den by the window is beyond tempting.

So, when I come down for breakfast in the morning, Donna is already in the kitchen, preparing what smells like eggs and bacon.

She takes one look at me, and giggles.

"I am in a state of agony, and you laugh. I always knew you were a sadist." I playfully grumble, despite the beginning pains of a gripping cramp.

"I've just, never seen you like this before. I thought you'd be used to all kinds of pain."

"Congratulations, you're witness to a rare event." I pout, resting my chin on the heel of my palm.

With another giggle, she begins a kettle of ginger tea.

I sit down at the table, hissing as the cramp comes full force, seizing my lower spine and grappling the front of my core. I take an orange from the bowl of fruit before me and begin peeling the skin, desperate to eat something before taking those pills Donna had given me last night. I also try not to think about Bela feasting on me, like she had before, lapping endlessly from me like her personal flask; her lips and chin smeared in crimson -

A bit of the orange's juice squirts onto the table.

I ignore the blush working its way up from my neck to my head. That would explain why I'd been so, needy, last night; resorting to my hand and pillow until my legs were quivering.

I'd been sitting with Donna in her workshop, assisting in her latest creation, when a daydream seized my mind so suddenly that I had to excuse myself to her medicine room. It involved Bianca and Bela again entangled with me, Donna watching while the two of them ravaged me on her worktable. I had to catch my breath, and ended up lying to Donna that my stomach was upset. That's when she gave me the medicine. I suppose it worked out in the end.

I devour the orange by the time Donna sets a cup of the tea before me. It's warm and laced with a bit of honey. The first sip provides immediate relief, so much so that I moan as I take another sip, eager to drown the insufferable pain.

"A bit bittersweet, I assume." Donna says without turning around, working deftly on plating a couple of eggs.

"What is?"

"To have your monthly cycles back." When I quirk a brow at her in confusion, she continues, "You were nearly skin and bones when you first started at the castle. Now you're at a healthy enough weight that they've returned."

I shrug. "I suppose you have a point. It's proof I'm doing something right."

She turns around and hands me a plate of eggs benedict with a prideful smile. "Will you be stopping once winter sets in?"

"I'll do what I can. I'll have to see if Lady Dimitrescu has the servants shovel the gardens this time of year. I could try taking a run through there."

Donna shivers. "I'm getting cold just thinking about it."

I take another sip of the tea. "I can't afford to lose my edge."

"Oh, which reminds me, I went out and grabbed some twigs and stuff after dinner yesterday. Thought it might help with your, tree suit." she giggles.

"My ghillie suit?"

"That's what I said."

I shake my head with a chuckle as I bite into the benedict. I lost a couple precious pieces of avocado, but the taste is phenomenal.

Donna finishes making her own plate, and sits down next to me, Angie perched in the corner on the counter as per usual with us now. "What's the point of the suit again?"

"It's supposed to break up the line of sight, helping me blend in better with the surroundings. Helps when I'm hunting."

She pokes at her eggs with her fork. "Duke can't sell you one?"

"You know, surprisingly, despite his wide range of travels, he had no idea what I was talking about." I giggle as I can practically hear the merchant's chastising tone. "Besides, it's easier to make it. Then I know it'll fit right, and I can customize it how I want."

"I'm eager to see your results." Donna smiles.

Once the tea alleviates my cramps to a point where I don't want to coil into a ball and die, I join Donna down in her workshop. I watch for a majority of the morning, occasionally being trusted to carve and sand a certain limb of shape, but mostly she just lets me exist in her little bubble of focus.

After a couple of hours, I decide to fetch my suit and begin working on my adjustments. Even deciding to bring down my hunting weapons and give them a good cleaning. Donna allows me to use half of her workbench at the center of the room.

One half scattered with wood chippings and small clothes, the other with pieces of my ghillie suit and compound bow.

Together we just work in that comfortable, companionable silence until the clock strikes noon.

Together we emerge from the basement, already discussing plans to make a hefty ham sandwich, when Donna stops as we enter her living room.

"What's -"

"Erika, go to your room." Her voice holds a tense tone I've never heard before, even after I'd smashed Angie.

I'm about to question her, when I feel it. And hear it.

The house, usually equipped with its own comfortable silence, has now tensed. A cresting wave that is making its way towards us. Like a forest quieting for a large predator.

A trembling quiet that makes me want to scramble under the table. Or just start running.

"Get to your room. Now." Donna orders, not taking her eyes off the open doors.

"But - " I start, but Donna growls, the sound echoing through the room.

I snatch one of the knives off the table and bolt upstairs to my room, leaving the door barely ajar. I still peer through the crack, preparing to spring at the slightest hint of danger for Donna.

She steps into the foyer, attempting to make herself look busy by organizing a basket of threads.

Someone is coming, someone awful enough to frighten her - someone who would want to hurt me if they knew I was here.

And then she appears.

Mother Miranda floats through the doors, opening on a phantom wind for her. Her perfect face is void of any emotion before her brows rise, a smile stretching her closed lips. It's a hideous parody of endearment.

"Donna," she sings, opening her arms. Donna steps in them without a second thought. I can't tell if it's natural, or trained. "So good to see you."

"To what do I owe the honor, Mother Miranda?" Donna asks, curtseying politely.

"I figured I'd stop by and see if you'll be stopping into town for the festival. I know large crowds aren't really your preference, but"- The High Priestess runs a finger along Donna's shoulder - a casual gesture. -"it would be such a shame to be cooped here in a time of celebration."

Donna studies Miranda's face. "I appreciate the gesture, Mother Miranda, but remember I have my own graveyard that I can tend to here; in the privacy of my own estate."

I try to calm my rapid heart, worried Mother Miranda will hear it. I don't believe her for one second, and thankful, it seems Donna doesn't either. It seems the priestess rarely visited at all, judging from Donna's face. Of course, she never had to hide anyone before.

She confirms as much when she says, "I wish I'd known you were coming, Mother Miranda; I would've tidied up."

The house is spotless, but Donna's features are as blank as her many dolls.

Miranda's venom-coated smile grows. "Nonsense, Donna. You don't need to worry." The priestess's dress hisses against the floor as she meanders around the foyer. "I do have a reason for coming by - you've been, better lately. I was just curious about what might be so good for you to have gained some confidence."

I tremble, torn between flattery and fear. I had no idea what I was doing for Donna. And while I'm happy to have helped her, I'm sure neither of us had any idea what it would look like to outside eyes.

Donna admits, "I have discovered a new playmate, and her company is proving . . . beneficial. I had no idea it was so obvious."

"Well, seeing you smile more is certainly a telling tale." As she continues to prowl the room, her head suddenly turns towards my room.

Against my volition, my body straightens, every muscle going taut, my bones straining. Power seizes everything inside me and takes control: even my eyes blink where she wills it.

I can't move.

An invisible, talon-tipped hand rests against my mind. And I knew - one push, one swipe of those mental claws, and who I am will cease to exist.

And yet, the claws don't push, they don't press. It doesn't feel like my mind is captive, it's just held there.

The talons attempt at caressing my min, the touch a little more than firm. An attempt at peace, but unable to think of how to control its actions.

But still those talons caress my mind, feeling its outer walls and acknowledging the barrier.

It lifts one talon from my mind, and my eyes can suddenly move and blink. Tears immediately flood them, spilling down over my cheeks, but I am allowed to look around.

And I see Mother Miranda slowly turn around and face Donna.

That's when I see Donna's face - a cold and violent mask. She just stares at the priestess, and if looks could kill, the latter would be dead ten times over.

This was Donna's power cradling my mind like an egg.

Had I retained any semblance of control over my body, I might have vomited.

While I can't hear anything, I can see Donna speaking into the priestess's mind, and for a moment, I'm fearful for the Lord. I don't know the limits of Donna's power, but I can only assume they aren't nearly comparable to Mother Miranda.

But suddenly, the priestess suddenly says, "I'm sorry to have disturbed you. I shall be taking my leave."

I don't know what to think of it. Her voice was so monotone, so flat. And her features have smoothed to mimic one of Donna's dolls.

The priestess stiffly looks ahead, walking towards the front door with wooden steps. The lord watches her with a neutral face. Not once wavering.

Only when the door closes soundlessly behind her do those invisible claws lazily caress my mind again - then vanish. I sink to the floor, curling over my knees as I reel in everything that I am, as I try to keep from sobbing, from screaming, from emptying my stomach onto the floor.

I push myself up on quivering limbs and yank open the door, doing my best to show my anger despite my legs unable to support me. No better than a trembling lamb.

Donna looks over to me, waiting for my verbal lashing. She thankfully doesn't smirk as I take wobbling steps down the stairs.

"What the fuck was that?" I growl, but exhaustion and fear has my words quaking like an autumn leaf.

She meets me at the base of the stairs, and I ask, "H-How did you do that?"

Donna's throat bobs, her lips folding in. "I didn't know I could." She offers a gentle smile to ease the tension. "I just took a chance."

"What did you do? What did you say to her?"

Donna fiddles with her fingernails, turning away from me. Her heels click softly against the rug. "I . . . forced my thoughts into her mind. I told her she had to leave, and that she had something to do. Which I'm sure she does."

"Will she know she's been tricked?"

Donna shrugs. "I doubt it. I hope not. But it's good to know that no one is immune to my pollen."

I think back to when she plucked through my mind like a harp, picking and choosing certain memories that would elicit the most fear from me.

"I didn't think anything could overpower Mother Miranda." I utter, taking the final two steps from the stairs into the foyer.

Donna looks over her shoulder, "Mother Miranda's gift is one of shifting and trickery. Mine is of the mind and consciousness."

I meet Donna at the center of the room, my body finally starting to ease its subconscious shivering. "That touch inside my mind . . ."

Another shrug of her delicate shoulders. "I don't know why it's portrayed as such. But I had to do something so you wouldn't blow you're cover."

"It was, strange. Certainly an invasion of privacy, and not really appreciated. But at least you didn't burrow deeper." I bite, rubbing my shoulder as a self comfort.

She steps up to me, taking my hand and rubbing her thumb across the back of my knuckles. "I would never. Not anymore."

I look towards the front doors, expecting, preparing for the priestess to come barging back in with hell on her heels. In a quieter tone, I say, "She's getting suspicious. That's the only reason she'd come here."

"Even so, how did she find out about the arrangement?"

"Maybe she didn't. Maybe she's just being proactive in whatever the hell involves me with her plans." I aim for the stairs. "I can't stay here. I should get going."

"Where are you going to go?"

"Back to the castle, I guess. I don't want to risk putting you in further danger."

"She won't hurt me." Donna states, halting my step up the stairs.

"But what if she comes back?"

"She won't. At least, not for you."

"You're sure?"

She nods. "I might've been a little, liberal, exploring her mind. But she won't have any memory of what's happened."

"Could you sense why she was coming here then?"

Donna pauses for a moment, picking at a loose thread in her skirt. "She was telling the truth of checking up on me. But she was also looking for you. For intel about you. And I knew that if she saw you, she would ask questions. Or worse."

"And yet you still serve that monster." I growl with displeasure.

"I owe her too much. But I know when she's overstepping a boundary."

As my body finally stops trembling, I allow Donna to guide me into her den. Despite my initial hesitation, we cuddle close, Donna draping a soft blanket over the two of us. I look to find a tray of tea and cups, already made with a plate of desserts - probably already prepared by Donna before things turned frigid.

"Thank you, for your help." I say as we nestle on the couch, looking out the window towards the waterfall. "I hope what she said is true, at least. That you've been doing better."

Donna offers a small smile despite the blush stealing over her cheeks. "I've been in a better mode, most recently. But that doesn't mean it has anything to do with you."

I tip my head back and laugh. Donna reaches over to the end table, pulling over two books she must've pulled from her library. She sacrifices her spot for a minute as she sets up her gramophone to play some lounging music.

She then nestles back into her spot and hands me one of the two books. "I figured we could have just a relaxing, book-reading evening. I know beforehand it was kind of quiet, but I still consider that work. So now, we can just relax, together."

I nod, still reeling from the display of power she'd shown.

And it makes me realize how much better of a person the Lord might actually be. To have that kind of power, and still prefer to be sitting in her basement, carving out dolls.

It's kind of a relief, if admittedly a waste.

But I don't even know what the village would look like if Donna tried to take over.

All the more reason I'm glad she's on my side.

So, I let her nestle her head into the crook of my neck, and we both try to lose ourselves in our respective novels.