Chapter 7

CHAPTER SEVEN

R osa spent the next day in a blur. She had barely slept in the past two nights, and she found herself bumping into doors and hearing voices in the walls. She cleaned rooms alone, trying to get her mind together, but she ended up staring blankly out of the windows, wondering about faerie princes and whether or not the Autumn Queen was still angry.

You are going crazy, Rosa. It was just a story, no matter how real the dream seemed.

Upon waking, she had remembered the last time she had heard the words from her dream. She was a little girl, and Eli had picked her up to carry her away from her father's body.

"He's dead, Rosa. I'm sorry, he's dead," he had whispered as he had held her tightly. How could she have forgotten that? This crazy house is getting to you, Rosa.

Being back in Gwaed Lyn was making the long-buried feelings and memories rise, forcing her to remember.

You can't run from them forever, Rosa. It's time to grow up and know the truth .

She knew she had to ask Eli about what had happened with her father's death. Something wasn't right. She didn't end up seeing either Eli or Balthasar that day, and she felt strangely grateful about it. She needed a decent night's sleep before she talked to either one of them.

That night, Rosa went up to the attic to put the letters away. In the chests, she found two small portraits of Balthasar and Jane. She took them downstairs and placed them on her bedside table.

"Don't worry, guys. I will find out what really happened to you and stop getting distracted by messed up fairy tales," she said feeling emotional and a little foolish. The paintings were beautiful works like much of the art in the Vane mansion. Rosa climbed back into bed and picked up the portrait frames. One side was of dark-haired Jane with her pale blue eyes. She had a sweet look on her face and a soft mouth. The other one was a familiar serious face with high cheekbones—Balthasar Senior. She stared at it for a moment longer before she propped it up under the lamp and grew frustrated when it wouldn't sit up straight. She flipped the portrait over and spotted something sticking out the back of Jane's picture.

Rosa took out her nail file and gently pried the back apart. A sealed letter dropped out from behind it and onto her lap. It had been tied with a black ribbon and sealed in wax. Rosa opened it, and a clipping of a small obituary fell out. She read that Jane Louise Rutherford had died by drowning while visiting the Lake District with family.

1815

My Jane,

I don't know why I write you this letter. There is no way for you to read it now, so far away from me. Never again will I hear your laughter or see the light in your eyes. I failed you. I failed to protect you from this life, from who I am. I tried to warn you away, but you wouldn't listen, my beautiful, stubborn girl.

I know he ordered your death. When I confronted him, he denied it. He gave me a lecture, though I was mad and foaming with grief and rage. He will have no distractions. He will have no competition. He will let me have nothing of my own. I have to get away from this place where I see the ghost of you walking beside me. I have seen so many horrible things, done such horrible things, but nothing will haunt me the way your pale body in the lake will haunt me. Blood Lake has had its fill. If the ghosts of that lake could rise, they would swallow us all.

You once told me that a man has a hole within himself; that if it is not filled with love, he will fill it with violence. I have lost you, my beautiful Jane. The love has gone from me, so I will glut myself on violence and rage until all that is broken and frail inside of me is burnt away. I cannot bear the suffering of the humanity in me, so I give in to the beast. Napoleon has escaped from Elba. I know the monsters he rallies to his side. I will go to the battlefields of Europe, and I will kill them all. I may hate my father, but he still holds Albion safe against the ravages of the French. He will release me for this. If he doesn't, he knows my rage will turn against him.

I loved you, Jane. I loved you.

"You look like hell," Belinda said as Rosa shuffled, tired and puffy-eyed into the kitchen the next morning.

"I'm fine. I just didn't sleep much last night," she mumbled. Rosa had been awake since she had finished reading the letter.

Balthasar Senior must have covered up the murder of the woman he loved to protect his family. Goddamn Vanes . In 1815, who would have questioned them? Jane's death was reported as a misadventure. She had gone swimming, been tangled up in weeds, and had drowned. The obituary had minimal details, and Rosa had fought with Gwaed Lyn's terrible internet connection in the early hours of the morning, searching through digital archives until she had found the same obituary on Jane. Nothing was mentioned of an investigation, the Vanes, or the fate of Jane's family.

"Well, Rosa, I'm happy you're up. Eli has decided to let us know that he's holding a soiree tonight, so I'm going to keep you down here with me today," Vera said as she came out of the walk-in pantries with her hands full. "We are going to have at least twenty to cook for."

Cecily came in a short time after and scrutinized Rosa's eyes and hastily pulled back her hair. "Were you drinking again last night?"

"No. It's lack of sleep. Really, I wasn't feeling well," Rosa fumbled for excuses. It wasn't a lie. After reading such private thoughts and intimacies between two people, only to have one of them murdered on a whim? It had devastated her.

The letters also highlighted cruelly and severely what Rosa had lacked in every relationship she had ever had. She did not think that the fairy tale version of love existed, but clearly, it had. For them, it had been deep, true, and all-consuming. It had been real. No wonder he had lost his mind and went to try to kill himself in the war. Rosa had tried to find his obituary, but there had been no mention of his death in the war with Napoleon or even fifty years after it. He had vanished into nothing. Just another body on a battlefield.

"Rosa, are you sure you are all right?" Vera sat her down and put a cup of tea in her hands.

"I'll be fine. I need to wake up a bit, but I will get it together. I'm a little off with the faeries is all." Rosa smiled encouragingly. Don't think of the faeries , Rosa prompted herself as the queen's laughter rolled through her troubled mind.

"Stay down here and help Vera out," Cecily said, patting her arm uneasily, unsure of how to comfort her. "I'll get Julie to assist me with the rooms today."

Rosa spent the day trying not to hurt herself or get in everyone else's way. She sliced her fingers twice while chopping vegetables; her soufflés would not rise, and her pies would've been burned if Vera hadn't saved them in the nick of time. She cleaned the kitchen because Vera wouldn't trust her with the cooking after that. She couldn't ruin anything important if she held a scrubbing brush and not a spoon.

The cuts in her hands stung as she scrubbed the flecked marble benches with lemon juice and bicarbonate soda. She tried to help organize the serving dishes and ended up dropping a crystal urn, smashing it to a thousand pieces on the tiles.

Rosa couldn't remember a day this bad in the kitchens since her first days at culinary school when she dropped a plate of soup on an instructor. That was the day the other students started calling her Nigella, the name annoying her until it became an everyday endearment.

That evening, Rosa watched from the kitchen windows as expensive cars parked and elegantly dressed men and women were escorted into the house.

"Okay, Rosamund, I need you to go find Cecily and let her know everything is ready when she is," Vera instructed, "and then go home and go to bed. You have been hopeless today. I know something is bothering you, so work it out. Tomorrow is a new day."

The party was being held in the large dining rooms on the south side of the third floor. Music was vibrating through the walls, accompanied by laughter and the clinking of glasses. The guests had already gone in, so Rosa took the opportunity to signal to Art, one of the waiters, to get his attention. He held up one finger in her direction as Lily and Pearl came to take drinks off his tray.

They looked like stunning birds of prey. Lily was dressed in a deep red silk that set off her dark coloring, and Pearl was in gray and silver. With uncanny bad luck, they looked up and saw her in her disheveled and exhausted state. Pearl said something to Lily, and they laughed before turning back to their guests.

Art hurried over. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing. Tell Cecily that downstairs is ready when Eli is. There were no extra girls, so I had to come find her."

"Okay, I will let her know. Get out of here, Rosa. You look dead on your feet." He smiled encouragingly before disappearing back into the rooms.

Rosa hurried down the corridors and was about to step into the passages when she changed her mind and headed for the empty rooms in the northern wing. The noise of the party was a distant murmur, and Rosa let her first quiet of the day envelope her.

She sat on a bench chair at the end of the four-poster bed and stared at the painting of Balthasar Senior. She'd read the final letter to Jane over and over again. That their relationship ended with a death and not a wedding was too heartbreaking. Rosa buried her head in her hands.

"Rough day?" a voice asked.

"You could say that," she replied with a flinch.

Rosa looked sideways through her fingers at Balthasar standing in the doorway, dressed in a well-cut suit and dark blue shirt. He sat down on the chair next to her, and she caught the scent of his aftershave. He smelled as good as he looked, which did not help her in the slightest. For some reason, she wanted to hug him and have him tell her she was going to be all right. You really are starting to lose it, Rosamund .

"Can I ask what you are doing all the way back here?" he asked softly.

"Hiding. Thought that was obvious." Rosa pulled her hair out of its tie and ran her hands through it irritably. "What are you doing back here?"

"Hiding as well, for the most part," he admitted as his eyes followed her movements. "I heard Lily and Pearl sniggering, and I saw you looked upset."

"Why do you care if I'm upset?" Rosa asked defensively. "I'm a servant and a pretty rubbish one at that. I have messed up more times today than I can remember."

She didn't know why she was even admitting that or why she sounded so defensive. Balthasar was the only one who had been polite to her, after all. She thought of their late-night sandwiches and swore softly.

"I'm... I'm sorry. Really. I have had the worst day and got next to no sleep. I tend to turn into a bit of a bitch when I don't get my eight hours. Eli's book gave me crazy nightmares, and being back in this place is bringing up a lot of things I'd rather not remember." She glanced once more at the picture. "He looks a lot like you, you know?"

"I have been told."

"You are surrounded by all of these family portraits all the time. Do you ever wonder what they were like? What kind of lives they had?"

Balthasar looked up at the portrait, his eyes going sad for a moment. "There is a lot of history in this house. Sometimes, I feel trapped by the ghosts in it."

"I know the feeling," Rosa muttered. "The Wylts have always served the Vanes. It is our honor, and it is our duty."

"That sounds very final, and as I said the other night, rather untrue. Where did you hear it anyway?" Balthasar asked curiously.

"It was something that was drummed into me when I was a kid. It doesn't matter now," she said as she got back to her feet. "You really should get back to the party. You're the one hosting it after all."

"Lily and Eli will do the job admirably. Pearl has already disappeared to make sure things are run with precision. I'm hoping Saul can stop himself from getting into trouble, even if it's only for one night," Balthasar said as they walked back into the hallway. "Are you sure you are going to be all right?"

"Better than all right. I get to go home and go to bed, but you have to go and be charming to people you don't seem to like." She grinned, trying to lighten the mood. "I'm sure you can manage it."

"I'll try. You have a pleasant evening, Miss Wylt."

Rosa ducked back into the passageway, shutting the door behind her. She never thought she would find herself liking a Vane, but maybe she and Balthasar could end up being friends one day. She hurried back down the stairs and was about to open the door to the kitchen when she heard Pearl and Cecily's voices.

"This is an important night, slave. I don't want to see any sight of that daughter of yours upstairs again. Do you hear me?" Pearl demanded.

Rosa watched her standing over Cecily through the crack in the door. One long white finger was pointing in her face as her other hand gripped her mother's shoulder. Rosa's hands tightened into angry fists.

"Yes, Lady Pearl, I promise," Cecily answered in a distant voice that held none of its usual fire.

"Good. That girl is causing enough problems as it is, let alone embarrassing us in front of our friends."

"Yes, Lady Pearl, I understand. Is there any other way I can serve you?"

"Well, now that you mention it, don't scream."

Rosa watched in horror as Pearl's beautiful face twisted, her mouth opening. Sharp white teeth lengthened before sinking into the folds of Cecily's soft neck. Rosa put her hand over her mouth to stop herself from screaming, tears running down her face. When Pearl was done, Cecily brought out a handkerchief and dabbed at Pearl's plump lips.

"Thank you, Cecily," she said, her eyes turning from a dark red to their natural pale gray. "Now, you are going to forget I was here and that you ever saw me. You are not to tell Eli even if he asks you. Do you hear me?"

"Yes, Lady Pearl, I promise."

"Good," Pearl said, releasing the grip on her shoulder. "Now carry that tray of refreshments upstairs. They were running out." Rosa watched them leave before she scrambled out of the passage, through the kitchen, and out the back door.

The freezing air battered her as she ran across the lawn, her mind crashing around her. Dogs were barking in the distance, and she ran faster. She slammed and bolted the gate behind her before she tripped on the wet flagstones.

"Oh, God. Oh, God," Rosa muttered as she climbed back to her feet, pulled the house key from under the mat and tried to keep her fingers from shaking as she pushed the key into the lock. Something rustled in the garden, and she looked around, ready to fight off monsters. There wasn't anything there, but the dark garden sparked a memory.

A few days beforehand, Balthasar had put his hand on her shoulder when he warned her about the dogs in the same manner that Pearl had done with her mother. Rosa pulled out her necklace, gripping it tightly. The way he had looked at it...

"Damn it! Come on," Rosa hurried again with the key, getting it right this time, and she pushed her way inside. She slid the dead bolts shut and braced herself against the wall to stop herself from falling over. She was pale and shaking in the reflection of the hall mirror. The homeless woman's words came flooding back to her . It is not called Blood Lake for nothing .

Did her mother know what was happening to her? Did she know what they were ? Rosa looked at the pendant, studying the face and angel wings around it. The woman had said it would protect her.

Rosa found her phone and tried not to cry in frustration as the internet took forever to load. She searched through pages of symbols of protection from every race she could think of until she found it. It was a six-winged seraph that in Judaic texts protected the throne of God, and they were one of the highest choirs of angels. Whatever it did, it stopped the Vanes from brainwashing her, and she wasn't going to go anywhere without it.

Rosa got in the shower and scrubbed herself, trying to wash away the revulsion she was feeling. She climbed out when the water went cold and pulled her heavy robe around her. She felt like she couldn't get warm enough as she banked her fire high and lit it.

Through her window she could see the lights shining from the upstairs rooms, people dancing and laughing through the curtains. Unexpectedly, she looked down at the leather-bound book on her bedside table. The prince in the story had drunk the queen's blood, and he had escaped into this world.

"Get it together. It's just a story," Rosa said out loud, gripping her head. Until she had seen Pearl tonight, she would have told you that vampires were a story too.

The Wylts have always served the Vanes . Had they known what they had been serving this whole time? She thought of the chests upstairs. If they did know, there was only one way to find out. As she was changing into her pajamas, her eyes locked onto the portraits. Rosa sat down on the floor and tried to fight air into her lungs as Balthasar's steady gaze looked back at her. The man she had been dreaming about was not as dead as she had thought.

Lily closed her eyes as Pearl brushed out her long, dark hair. It was a small thing that her progeny liked to do for her. Pearl was not the most affectionate of people, but she always treated Lily as if she was made of glass, as if she was the precious one in the family.

"What are you thinking about?" Lily asked. "I can feel that something is annoying you."

"Of course I'm annoyed. How can you be so calm?" Pearl sat down on the seat next to her. "Blackfox got sloppy and far too bold. What a waste of time he was!"

"It's a setback, but he did not betray us before my brother took his head. Lucky for us, my darling, otherwise he would be taking ours right now." Lily took her hand and kissed it. "You are young and impatient."

"I also love you and want to see you sitting in your rightful place. Balthasar is not interested in the crown. It would suit him poorly. Eli needs to stop looking at Balthasar as an heir only because he has a cock. You were born a noble, Lily, in a time when it meant something."

At times, Lily had regretted telling Pearl about her royal blood, but she had needed a confidant after being alone for so long. She had told her of how Eli had saved her from a brutal raping during the Siege of Jerusalem in 1187 and how he had raised her as a daughter before finally turning her. She was his first-born, and for hundreds of years, all they had was each other. She was his only and most beloved daughter.

"You forget Balthasar was also born noble," Lily pointed out.

"The Medicis were bankers. Being rich is not the same as nobility. He was an unknown bastard who got lucky." Pearl clenched her white fists. "I don't like that Eli overlooked you as soon as he found Balthasar."

"And I love you for being so defensive of me." Lily touched her cheek. "Blackfox failed us, but we can make other allies to remove my brother. He is usually his worst enemy, and he has a shaky relationship with Eli at best. We will work this out."

"What about the girl?" Pearl asked, innocently twirling the bracelet on her wrist. "Could we use Rosa to get him out of favor?"

"I don't think he's interested. God, I haven't seen him interested in anyone for two hundred years. The last one was too traumatic," Lily said, feeling an old ache in her chest that she had thought long gone. Jane .

"Ha! I saw them walking together the other afternoon. I have never seen him look at someone like that."

"He was probably just being polite to her," Lily said irritably. "She's a Wylt, off limits even to him. They are important to Eli, and Balthasar liked her father. If you touch a Wylt, even I couldn't save you from their wrath. You would be signing your death warrant."

Pearl smiled innocently. "Who said we would have to touch her?"

Rosa spent the night trying to find the oldest recollections by her family. How had they come to serve the Vanes anyway? Had they known what they were?

There was so much stuff in the cramped attic that she had given in to her exhaustion and gone to bed. She couldn't handle another sleepless night.

Once again, she dreamed of Balthasar. She was not afraid in the dream. He'd never made her feel afraid. Then the dream changed to Pearl standing over Cecily's dead body, her white dress streaked with blood as she laughed.

The Wylts have always served the Vanes. They have always been good to us. It is an honor . Her father's words were running over and over like a tune in the back of her mind. She dreamed of playing in Eli's library as he drank blood from a glass and told her stories of faraway kingdoms. She wasn't afraid of what he was, her childish heart enjoying his attention.

Rosa woke in the morning feeling calmer but still determined to find out the truth. From the random notes scattered throughout journals, the Vanes had always treated the Wylts well, not so much a part of the servant class but friends who chose to work for them. They had also known exactly what the Vanes were—Unseelie princes who had created a family for themselves in a new world, using old magic.

Rosa found the whole agreement between the families confusing. Why the Wylts? Rosa had not been the only one that had been sent away to be educated either. They had always returned to Gwaed Lyn and decided to stay. The Vanes had never let anything bad happen to them. So why was Pearl hurting her mother? Cecily had always respected Eli Vane immensely, so why was he allowing it? Maybe he doesn't know , she thought as she stood in the kitchen, watching the procession of cars disappearing in the early morning light.

There would be a hell of a mess upstairs to clean up, and if Cecily were unwell, she would be relying on Rosa. Could she tell her mother what she had seen? Their relationship wasn't close enough to have the trust needed for Cecily to believe her. Rosa straightened. If her mother looked the least bit poorly again, then she would go straight to Eli and tell him what she had seen. She'd threaten to expose them all if it was what was needed to get Pearl to stop.

Rosa made sure her necklace was tucked out of sight before she stepped out into the morning. She was passing through the line of oaks when she spotted Balthasar at the front of the house, engaged in seeing guests off in the cars. He looked her way and waved shyly. Rosa turned her head away quickly, her face burning. She walked faster, almost knocking Jenny over in her desperation to get out of sight. The knowledge that he was the same man who had written such beautiful letters, that had loved and grieved so deeply, was enough to make Rosa want to crawl into a dark corner and hide. She'd been crushing on him without even realizing it. He had caught her staring longingly at his portrait the night before. How could she ever face him again?

"Morning!" she said all too happily. "Sorting the mess upstairs today, are we? Excellent." She smiled at Belinda. "Cleaning stuff is upstairs?"

"Ah, yes. Are you okay this morning?" Belinda asked.

"Super. I had a great night's sleep. All keen to get into it." She hurried up the stairs in the passageways, doing her best not to hear any voices in the hallways. She checked both ways for any Vanes before hurrying out and down to the ballroom. Cecily was clearing dishes off the tables and placing them into a large plastic tub.

"Morning Rosa," she said and smiled nervously when Rosa kissed her cheek. "You're in a good mood."

"Ready for the day," she reassured. "Here, let me fix your collar." Rosa pretended to be straightening her hair from under her dress as she searched for a bite mark. There was nothing, just the light shade of a bruise. "What's on the agenda today?"

"We need to clean this ballroom of last night's party, then start plans on how we are going to decorate it for the ball in a few weeks."

"A ball! I didn't think people still had those, even rich people." Rosa took the tub from her, walking behind Cecily as she filled it. They stacked them neatly near the doors so that the other servants could collect them for cleaning.

Cecily asked her about London, studying, her friends, and life in general. Rosa tried to be open for once and not angry with her. She remembered loving her mother when she was a child. She used to be like her shadow and never wanted to be apart from her. That was what made the betrayal of being sent away so much worse. What had happened after Dad had died? If the trip to Gwaed Lyn provided her with nothing else, that was the one question she wanted an answer to.

Cecily looked around the ballroom with a worried frown. "We really need to start on decorating this week. Eli has very strong ideas about how he wants things and has been ordering all sorts of decorations without asking Mr. Goode. The old man is used to it, but he is still flustered."

"The theme?" Rosa asked as she started folding up the soiled tablecloths.

"The Winter Solstice of course. Ysbrydnos, when the spirits are meant to be walking."

"How very dramatic. They would want to be careful that monsters don't turn up for the party."

"Perhaps they are hoping that they do," Pearl said as she leaned against the doorframe. She was in a hand painted silk robe, her hair mussed and her makeup still on.

"Can I assist you with something, Lady Pearl?" Cecily asked.

"You stay here and keep an eye on the clean-up. I can help Pearl," Rosa said quickly. She didn't want that woman anywhere near her mother.

"I was looking for you anyway, Rosa. Grab those cloths. You will need them," Pearl said with a bored flick of her hand. Rosa hurried to oblige her and went after her in the hall.

"Some of the guests got into the attic last night and made a mess. I need you to go up there and sort it out," Pearl instructed as she led Rosa to a large, heavy oak door.

"I should get someone to help me if it's such a mess," Rosa pointed out. The door was heavily carved with leaves, swords, and other motifs. It did not look like the door to a set of attic stairs.

Pearl gripped her shoulder with one hand and lifted her chin with the other. As she did, Lily's face appeared around the hall.

"What are you doing, Pearl?" she whispered tersely. "I told you that the Wylt girl was off limits. Do you want Eli to destroy you?"

"Stop being so dramatic, Lily. I haven't harmed her. I'm sending her upstairs to clean. It's a frightful mess up there." Pearl focused back on Rosa. "Go on, Rosa, use your special keys and open the door. I want you to do as I say and go up the stairs. You are to touch and clean everything, and when I ask in a few days' time what was up there, you will tell me."

"Yes, Lady Pearl," Rosa said shakily, doing her best to emulate Cecily's tone from the night before. "Is there anything else, Lady Pearl?"

"Yes. You are to forget that you ever saw Lady Lily and me. If you are questioned about why you went up there, just say it was to help with the cleaning. That's all. Do you understand me?"

"Yes, Lady Pearl."

"Good. Now off you go." She gave Rosa a hard shove towards the door. "Do what you do best and clean away."

Rosa fumbled for her father's keys until she found the right one and unlocked the door. She pushed it open and hesitantly stepped inside. As she closed it, she saw Pearl wrap an arm around Lily, leading her away.

Rosa took out the silver pendant and kissed it. Those evil bitches , she thought as she tucked it away again. Let them think she was their puppet. She would show them . She looked at the twisting staircase. Whatever was up there couldn't be as frightening as they were.

Pearl curled herself around Lily's back, holding her tightly. Lily was the only woman she had ever met that had suffered as badly as she had at the hands of men. The stories of the brutal times Lily had been born in, the violence she had seen during the Siege of Jerusalem, was enough to make Pearl weep. Lily had saved her just as Eli had saved Lily. Pearl scratched at the burn scars at the top of her thigh. Circular little marks that taunted her like a phantom limb.

I'll teach you to smile at all those fancy people you sing for , Pete's voice rose up in the back of her memory like a mocking ghost. No one will think you're pretty now, will they, you little tramp . He had gotten his friends to hold her down while he had burned her with his cigarettes. Perfect little circles.

When Lily had found her behind the block of flats, she had been vomiting up blood from the beating that they had given her. Her avenging angel had torn through them like sacks of meat. Her fierce Lily.

Pearl stopped rubbing the scars and hugged Lily tighter. She had healed from the beating, and it wasn't long after that Lily had changed her, but those damn scars from her old life were still there to haunt her. Pearl had once cut them off with a scalpel, but her new abilities had healed her skin back to the way it had been when she had turned. Lily had kissed them, told her how perfect and beautiful she was. That scars were a part of her beauty. Lily had her own collection of scars made by her oppressors.

Pearl didn't like the way Eli bossed them both around. She had given up trying to get Lily to leave them. She said she wanted to overthrow Eli and Balthasar, but she loved both men far too much. It was up to Pearl to make the hard decisions because Lily needed her to. She rubbed her scars absently as her mind ticked over. Perfect little circles.

Rosa walked slowly up the stairs, a foreboding feeling taking root in the base of her spine with each step she took. It felt as if she was trespassing on some sacred place that no one was meant to go. What could be so terrible about an attic? At the top of the stairs was another door. She took a deep breath and pushed it open.

Rosa had been expecting cobwebs. She had been expecting broken furniture, bones of their victims, a Cerberus, any manner of horrible things. What she found was staggeringly beautiful. The large attic windows let in a flood of afternoon light that illuminated hundreds of canvases and sculptures. There were paintings on easels and propped up on desks and tables. There were framed works hanging from the walls and miniature paintings in between piles of books in oak shelves.

Very slowly, Rosa stepped around tables and chairs covered in paints, brushes, and easels. There was a neatness to the seeming clutter with brushes meticulously ordered and cleaned. There were writing desks covered in sketches and half-finished letters. She stepped slowly through the rows of works, each beautifully rendered in whatever style that took the artist's fancy that day.

There was a magnificent painting of Michael the Archangel in the style of the Raphaelites next to an impressionistic work of the lake. Still lives were half finished next to portraits and landscapes. The baroque paintings were in the same style as the family portraits, a masterful use of light and darkness. It was like walking through an incredible warehouse full of stolen treasures.

Chaise lounges and comfortable couches were scattered throughout the large space, and towards the back wall was a massive, four-poster bed with heavy red velvet hangings. Rosa forgot all about cleaning or obeying Pearl's orders. All she wanted to do was study the beauty around her.

Rosa no longer cared about how scared she was, how frustrated and rejected she felt by her mother, how she was serving a family of monsters and that she had fallen in love with a man from a bunch of old letters. Those feelings were all replaced by the bewitching play of color and light. Who had painted all of these? Why hide them all up here? Then something black blurred through the air, knocking her over with a startled cry.

" What do you think you are doing in here?" Balthasar loomed over her, every inch of him radiating with violent fury. She got to her feet and backed away from him. "How did you get in here? What makes you think you have a right to barge into other people's sacred spaces? How dare you!"

"I didn't mean?—"

"Didn't mean to what? To come in here and snoop about in my private things?" He closed in on her, and she stepped in the wrong place, knocking over an easel. He moved, far too quickly to be real, and caught the canvas before it hit the ground.

"Just get out!" he shouted in frustration. His voice was changing, turning into a growl. His normal warm brown eyes changed to black as he stared her down. "Get out of here now, or being a Wylt won't stop me from killing you!"

Rosa turned and bolted through the artworks and bookshelves. She made it across the threshold just as the heavy oak door slammed behind her. She stumbled on the polished stairs, slipping backward and landing hard on her side. She ignored the pain in her hip and got to her feet, limping the rest of the way down.

Rosa pushed her way through the bottom door and back into the hallway. She hurried into the passages, and it wasn't until she had the safety of wood and stone walls around her that she started to cry.

Instead of going into the kitchen, she went down into the cellar and hid behind a wall of red wines. She pulled her knees up to her chest as she shook. The way his face changed ... How could the sweet man from the letters be that? Why the hell did Pearl send her up there to begin with?