The master of the castle was bloody stark raving mad, that was for certain.

The roar of a feral beast resounded from somewhere in this once-lavish prison. Perhaps it was one of the hounds made of shadows, upset because they could not finish her off. However, Evelyn had more important things to worry about than sounds of magical wildlife.

Cautiously, she followed the floating blob of light that was always too ahead from her, taking in the surroundings. The towering domed ceilings were chock-full of cobwebs, the hall's carpets were faded and torn, and the entire castle had death and despair in the air.

Whispering that was too low for her to catch continued, annoying her. Where did it come from? Who was saying it? What were the whispers about? All sorts of questions whirled around her head, distracting her from the harsh reality of her situation. From a prison to drudgery to another, but this time in a ruined castle in a magical and cursed forest.

Halting step after step, she looked at every locked door, wondering which one would be hers. From hallway to hallway, up stairs and down huge flagstone steps, up until they reached a hall that had a once-loved feel. A door to her right creaked, making her head whip to the side. The whispering became louder, but still unintelligible. Not having any choice, and having accepted her fate, Evelyn went inside and gasped.

This room was fit for royalty! It was large, with other connecting rooms. Tiered chandeliers, a large bed draped with all sorts of blankets and throws, a huge vanity with chests overflowing with jewels and baubles, and a floor-to-ceiling window covered by purple drapes. Candles in sconces all around the walls illuminated the room, and the smell of cosmetics was wafting across the room.

Much like the rest of the castle, it looked neglected and ancient. The drapes were moth-eaten, the polished stone floor cracked, the walls riddled with cracks, the air holding a musty undertone. But it had recently been cleaned and aired and refreshed – all for her.

"What does he want from me?" she asked herself as she took more steps inside the room. "I doubt it only involves simple menial tasks. There is an underlying intent – and for whatever reason, he wants to put me in the most lavish quarters I have ever seen. Perhaps it is a mind game?" No. Just like she knew she would not be killed – sacrificed at one point, perhaps, but not outright killed – she knew the room was not made to torture her with thoughts of comfort and luxuriousness. Another mystery... Good thing I have eternity.

"So, what is the first order of business?" she asked herself. Need a plan, need a plan.

With nothing to do yet, and needing a bit of time to fully think things through, Evelyn started rearranging things. Dusting, cracking open a window that squealed like a dying pig – and as someone who had lived in a small country village, Evelyn knew exactly what that sounded like – oiling said window with supplies found in a corner. Little chores she had been doing for quite some time.

As she did so, she thought of all she knew of the master, who was definitely the man that had been choking the boy – the figure shrouded in shadows. If he was not after playing games with her mind, what was her purpose? What were his plans concerning her? And what exactly was he? He was made of magyks and enchantments, clearly, but was it a curse? Had he been born this way? Perhaps... she would be recruited to help break a curse?

So lost in her thoughts, Evelyn was, that she did not notice the candelabra until it started asphyxiating. 

"No, madame! I understand that you are but a servant, but a maid, but please! Things are different now! In this room, you are a guest! No need for this cleaning, this working! I beg of you!"

"Excuse me? Firstly, I can do as I please, thank you very much, and secondly, I don't mind this kind of working. I will be a servant here, anyway. Thirdly – who exactly is talking to me –"

Bloody hell! Biting her tongue instinctively to stop herself from screaming, Evelyn jumped back three feet as she noticed the floating, anxious candelabra.

"You can talk? You are...animated? I should have known..."

Suddenly, as if her words had given some sort of permission, they all jumped down from their high perches on the ceiling. A clock, a duster, some rags, a footstool that barked, teacups and a teapot – and all, like the candelabra, always shrouded in a light black mist.

"Are...are you cursed? Like your master? You are magical?" 

"Madame! We are pleased to meet you!"

"Please be not alarmed!"

"We are the servants, you see, of this castle!"

"This ruin, you mean..."

"Again, madame, you are our guest – no menial tasks..."

"Everyone! Calm down!" That was Evelyn, putting an end to the excited, nervous (and in one case, bitter) chatter of the 'servants.'

"Thank you. My name is Evelyn, and I am pleased to meet you as well. As for you, Mister Candelabra, I will do as many menial tasks as I wish – but perhaps we can discuss that later. I do suppose we could start with introductions?" Of course, Evelyn was shocked – but not that surprised at the same time – that these were the servants. But she was in a ruined castle that boasted hounds of shadows and a master who was much too territorial, and the fact that magyks existed. It was a cursed castle, after all, and such enchantment was most likely normal in this setting.

This was her new reality, and therefore she had to adapt. That meant by creating a rapport with these servants, figuring out what her duties were, and then deciding how she would spend her days. According to the rather nervy Mister Candelabra, she would not be doing much menial tasks – that could possibly mean time to explore, time to figure out some mysteries. First things first, however.

"I am... Well, it has been a long, long time since I have used the name given at birth," the candelabra said, seeming very disappointed that he could not answer her query.

"That is quite unfortunate, and quite sad, but I could always just call you Mister Candelabra, if that does not offend? Might make it easier, since it seems we are to spend a lot of time with one another."

"That does not offend, madame!"

One by one the servants tried to introduce themselves, but they were either too excited about her presence or had forgotten their names, or in the case of a surly black blob, he simply did not want to answer her. It was decided, then, that Evelyn would create names for each of the servants. It would occupy her, and take her mind from the fact that dinner with the master was awaiting her.

After exchanging pleasantries with the servants who treated her much too favorably – she must find a way to fix that soon – Evelyn sat down on the bed. She was about to start writing with some parchment and a fountain pen that had been on the desk, when a thought assailed her.

"One second, Mister Candelabra! Please?" she remembered to add.

"Of course! As long as it is not about work!" he all but hissed the last part.

"No, no, definitely not. No, I was wondering something – we are still in France, I know that, and it seems this used to be a French castle. You may speak to me in your native tongue, you know. I understand enough of it, and I have no wish to force you to speak in a language not your own." For it was what had struck her odd – the servants spoke English. And the master wrote in it as well! Perhaps they were trying to be accommodating, using the language she had spoken in as soon as she had entered the castle. Perhaps.

"Oh!" She seemed to have shocked the candelabra – was it better to refer to him as a person, or by his name? – as he blinked at her words.

"Well, madame... We could use the language of France, but it is no bother! Whatever madame prefers, really. All of us here in this place are fluent in any number of languages, so truly it does not matter much."

Still floating in the air, Mister Candelabra bowed, and left a flustered Evelyn alone.

No one had called her madame for a long time, and for the first time it had been without scorn. What strange...people? Servants, she decided. In her mind, she would call them servants.

Left to her own devices, Evelyn started to name each servant she had seen. Sadly, this task was done all too soon, and as a clock somewhere struck the hour, she figured it was time for dinner. Now, there was no way she would look in the closet for something to wear, though it might give some of the servants a fit, so she quickly pulled up her hair and put in one of those fancy combs, smoothed her borrowed skirts, and set off quickly before she was apprehended.

This time, when the blob of light appeared, she knew what it was and followed it gladly, knowing where it was headed. It was time for dinner with the master.

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So here it is! Another chapter! I am so, so sorry for the long wait... Life has been crazy this past month, so I wasn't able to write much of anything. But here it is! (Finally)

I wonder what will happen at dinner? Remember to comment and vote! :)