"You speak like you fear him." I started, trying to figure out where all this was leading.
Aurora's voice was soft when she sputtered. "Oh, I do. You'd be a fool not to. But fear can be useful. Fear teaches. Fear sharpens the mind."
She dipped the loofah again and moved to my back, scrubbing carefully between my shoulder blades.
"I saw the way he looked at you," she said after a pause. "The way he touched you. You already know this isn't just about power. It's about possession. And possession, my sweet, can lead to death. Ask the girls who were before you."
Oh, Jesus Christ, what?! Has he had previous breeders? Previous women who ended up dead? Was that what she was telling me?
"What?" I blurted out in sheer wonder.
Aurora ignored my question and only went about her business. "You want to hurt him back, don't you?"
Yes. God, yes.
But I didn't say it.
"I know what he told you," she said after a while.
My shoulders tensed again. "Caligo?"
"He thinks he's generous," she murmured, wringing out the cloth. "He gives, and he thinks that means he's owed your loyalty. Or worse, your affection."
"I didn't say I liked him."
"You don't need to." She rinsed my neck with a slow, careful pour. "But you're in his room. In his tub. Wearing the scent he chose."
My mouth went dry.
"You saw what he did to the maid," Aurora continued, voice gentle, motherly even. "Cut off her fingers to prove a point. Claimed it was to protect you."
My stomach turned. I was trying my best to bury that memory, but now, the horrible images just flashed across my vision. I closed my eyes shut.
"I didn't ask him to do that."
"You don't need to ask Caligo for anything. He decides, then does. You'll never be safe with a man like that."
I turned to look at her, blinking past the steam. "Then why are you here? If you hate him so much?"
She smiled faintly. "Because monsters only fall from the inside. And you—you, Rose, are inside now."
Her words landed like drops of hot wax on skin. Was she… was she trying to assign me some 'take Caligo down' mission?
"What do you want from me?"
She didn't waste time. "I want you to pretend. I want you to smile at him. Laugh at his jokes. Let him think you're warming up to his touch. Because only when he lets you close enough can you drive the blade deep."
My jaw dropped, and my eyes popped open simultaneously. "You want me to kill him?"
"I want you to survive him. And that might be the same thing."
I had no idea how to react to that. The last and only time the thoughts of taking a life ever crossed my mind was back then, when my stepfather would tie my mother to the wall, her back on him as he painted bloody stripes across her back with his belt.
No, it wasn't even when he touched me in the most unholy places. It was when I watched what he could do to my Mother. Another victim.
Now, was Aurora telling me Caligo was the same? Or worse? I could hear my heart beating in my ears. What do I do with a man like that?
She continued to rinse my arms in silence. I was too stunned to speak. Her touch stayed gentle, like she was grooming me for something holy. Something bloody.
I was still battling with my thoughts and still hearing the soft finality in her voice, still staring at the steam-dappled mirror like it might show me the version of myself she insisted I had to become when the noise started.
It was faint at first. I could barely hear the roll of wheels and creak of hinges. But in a house like this that was as silent as a tomb most hours of the day, any sound felt loud. Wrong. Dangerous.
Aurora's head snapped toward the door.
The noise grew clearer. It was soft footsteps, followed by the muted thud of something being wheeled in. My. I held my breath and instinctively reached for the nearest towel as if someone might burst in and drag me out by the wet ends of my hair.
Aurora held up a hand to silence me before I could ask anything. She opened the bathroom door a sliver. Just enough to see who had walked in.
Then she turned to me. "They're here. Come."
Without waiting for protest, she grabbed a robe, draped it around my shoulders, and led me briskly into the adjoining room.
The moment I stepped inside, I stopped. No, I froze. Because what I saw was… impossible.
Ten maids in identical uniform and posture were gliding into the room like ghosts in formation. One pushed a large cart covered in linen cloth. The others carried garment bags, silk boxes, and polished trays.
And then the cloth came off the cart.
I swear I stopped breathing.
Laid out like a royal dowry were dresses, gowns, slippers, shawls, and jewelry. Colors I had no names for. Fabrics I'd never touched. Rows of shoes with curved heels and velvet bows. Folded lace fans. Perfume bottles and gemstones.
"My God…" I whispered.
Aurora said nothing. Just watched me like she was measuring my reaction.
I took a trembling step forward. The carpet muffled my bare feet, but I could feel the vibrations of everything; my pulse in my ears, the thunder of disbelief in my chest.
"What is all this?" I whispered, not even sure if I wanted the answer.
Aurora stepped beside me and touched a folded sky-blue dress with reverence. "Your wardrobe."
I blinked. "Mine?"
She gave me a look. "Do you see anyone else naked in a towel here?"
A strangled sound escaped me. "But why?"
"Because Caligo has taste. And because you're not going to be dressed like a scullery maid in this house."
I reached out and touched one of the dresses. It was pale gold, stitched with thread that was so fine. The dresses I grew up with were all made of coarse linen and punishment. Grey, stiff, and shapeless. In the convent, we were taught that vanity was a sin. We didn't dress to look beautiful—we dressed to disappear.
But this…
This was an invitation. Attention. Power and Aurora have so dearly told me there'd been other girls adorned like me… other girls we could no longer find.
Girls who had paid with their lives. What was Caligo? A maniac?