"You think I'm here to make you comfortable? Oh, sweet girl... you truly have no idea where you are."
The words weren't spat, they were placed. Each syllable sliced through the silence with surgical precision, wrapped in a voice too calm to be kind. Cecilia's voice.
Eloise blinked against the dim candlelight, her head still pounding from the faint. Her memory snapped back like a broken rubber band. Blood. Clarissa's gleeful feeding. The laughter. The truth.
Not a prank. Not a dream.
She was prey.
The chamber was different now. Her crimson gown had been stripped and replaced with something more muted—a velvet robe, deep forest green, cinched at the waist. She hadn't changed herself. That realization crawled under her skin like a fever.
Cecilia stood near the hearth, unmoving, watching her like one might observe a strange animal pacing in a cage. Her silhouette was tall, statuesque, and sharp around the edges. Her eyes, unlike the other servants, were not dull or lifeless. They sparkled with disdain. And calculation.
Eloise sat up slowly, bracing herself against the headboard. "You're not like the others."
Cecilia tilted her head. "Correct."
"You're not a vampire, either."
"Incorrect."
Eloise recoiled slightly. "But... your skin. You're not pale."
Cecilia smirked. "You're measuring monsters by the color of their skin? Oh dear, you're going to die fast."
The words hit harder than they should have. Maybe it was the ease in her voice, or the truth that lingered beneath it.
Cecilia stepped closer. Her boots made no sound on the polished stone floors. Her presence filled the room, as if the walls had widened to accommodate her authority. "They assigned me to you because they thought I'd hate you the least."
"Do you?" Eloise asked, throat dry.
Cecilia bent forward, face inches away. "I haven't decided."
Eloise. Focus.
But her mind still spun. The other brides. The rules. Sixty days. Rituals. Meals. Evaluations. And then he chooses. The Prince.
She didn't even know his name.
"So what now?" Eloise asked, voice steadier than she felt.
Cecilia straightened. "Now, I keep you alive."
Eloise exhaled. Relief came in a fragile wave.
"Barely."
The wave crashed.
Cecilia walked to a table by the window and lifted a porcelain teapot. She poured steaming amber liquid into two tiny cups. "Drink. It helps with the dizziness."
"What is it?"
"Bloodleaf tea. Infused with night-root. Calms the nerves. Keeps you from passing out next time someone drains a footman."
Eloise eyed the cup like it might bite her.
Cecilia rolled her eyes. "You have two choices. You can drink and wake up with your wits intact. Or refuse and make it easier for Clarissa to kill you before week two."
"Clarissa..."
"...isn't your worst problem."
That hung in the air like smoke.
Eloise sipped. The tea burned slightly but settled warmly in her chest. Her fingers stopped trembling.
"What is this place really?"
Cecilia didn't look at her. "It's a kingdom behind the curtain. A court of relics and rituals. It has no name because no name can hold it. Just call it the Crimson Court."
"And the Prince?"
Now Cecilia turned. Her face unreadable. "He is old. Older than the bones under this palace. And he is lonely. That makes him... unpredictable."
"So he picks a bride out of twenty-four?"
Cecilia gave a tight smile. "He always chooses. But sometimes he gets bored before the end. Then... other games begin."
That sick drop returned to Eloise's stomach.
Outside, the echo of distant laughter floated through the halls. Not joyous. Sharp. Cat-like. Predatory.
Cecilia noticed Eloise flinch. "They know what you are. Human. They smell it. It makes them... nostalgic."
"I don't understand."
"Of course not," Cecilia said. "You're not supposed to. That's part of the theater."
Part of the theater.
Eloise looked out the tall window beside the bed. The world beyond was cloaked in twilight, the moon heavy and red, dangling low like it was watching too.
"Do the other brides know each other?"
"Some are born here. Some are bred. Others are chosen from ancient lines. You're... none of those."
"So why me?"
Cecilia's gaze sharpened. "Good question. Ask it again when you meet him."
There was a knock. Two sharp raps.
Cecilia didn't move to answer. "Don't open unless I say."
Eloise nodded.
A beat of silence passed.
"Tomorrow is the first evaluation," Cecilia said.
"What does that mean?"
"You'll be watched. Tested. Sometimes questioned. Sometimes bled."
Eloise stiffened.
"Not fatally. They want you... preserved."
"This is insane."
"Correct."
The knock came again. Softer this time. Then a whisper through the door: "Little rabbit... come out and play..."
Eloise froze.
Cecilia vanished and reappeared by the door so fast it blurred. She didn't open it. She spoke low, like venom.
"Try again and I'll hang your bones over the west tower, Marcelline."
A hiss. Then retreating footsteps.
Cecilia turned back to Eloise. "Lesson one: never open the door without me. Lesson two: you are not prey unless you act like it."
Eloise finally asked, voice near cracking, "Why help me at all?"
For a long moment, Cecilia said nothing. Then:
"Because once, long ago, I was chosen too. But I wasn't human. I was fae. A faerie girl with a silver tongue and wild pride. I thought I was clever. Thought I could charm my way through the court like wind through branches."
Eloise stared.
"I wore their gowns and smiled at their curses. Played by their rules. And they never picked me."
"So... what did you become?"
Cecilia smirked. "Something worse."
Silence stretched between them.
"You have sixty days, Eloise," Cecilia said. "But you won't survive three unless you learn fast."
Eloise nodded slowly.
"Get some sleep. You'll need it."
Cecilia turned away, folding into the shadowed corner like she belonged there. A moment later, she returned, carrying a silver tray with a plate of food and a folded evening gown—sleek and dark like spilled ink. She set them gently on the edge of the bed without a word.
Eloise didn't lie back down. Not yet. She sat by the window instead, staring at the moon.
She was the only human. A walking target. A game piece.
And tomorrow, the game would begin.