Page 26 of Rite of Blood and Secrets

The moment I open the door, I'm jumped on by Pip, who lets out a loud whine. I collapse to the floor, leaning back against the doorframe and scooping my dog into my arms just in time for the first sob to escape. She lets me cry into her fur, but I can tell she'd rather I was fussing her.

She smells as if she's had a bath since I last saw her, and she's definitely had a groom. It's barely been a few hours, and even if a lot has happened for me, I'm still surprised that the servants have managed to pamper her like this.

I sniff and wipe my eyes, pulling back so I can see her properly.

Pip cocks her head to the side, one of her ears flapping open and the other staying bent. It's strange to think I'm sitting on the floor of a castle in a ballgown with my scruffy dog in my arms, but it's far from the weirdest thing that happened tonight.

"I'm so glad you're here," I murmur to my dog. "I don't know what I'd do without you."

She makes a soft rumbling sound that she normally makes when she's getting a particularly good scratch. I don't know how I'm going to get through what's to come, but I do know that I'm glad I have Pip to keep me company.

Chapter 14

I open my eyes slowly, surprised to find the world pitch black until I remember where I am. A castle carved into the mountain isn't going to have much natural light.

Pip's soft snores reassure me that I'm not alone and I reach out to touch her where she's curled up beside me, her weight a good reminder that things haven't completely changed.

I feel surprisingly well-rested, and I have to admit that the bed is comfortable, even if it isn't familiar. I touch my tongue to my teeth, almost relieved when I don't find pointed fangs pushing down from them. For one brief moment, I'm almost convinced that it's all a dream, but I know that isn't true.

The doors fling open, letting light inside and I gasp, pulling my blanket up so I'm completely covered.

"I'm sorry, I thought you were awake already," Bastian says.

My brother's figure looms in the doorway, the light behind him making him seem a little more imposing than he ought to be.

"I am," I say. "Just give me a moment."

He nods and turns around, setting down the candle he's carrying on my bedside table. "I'll send a servant in to help you dress and light the fire."

I nod, unable to say anything as he closes the door behind him, leaving me and Pip alone once more.

How has this become my life? I've been lighting the fire myself for years, even before Da died, it was my job. But now I have people to do that for me.

The doors open and a woman steps inside, curtsying to me. "Good morning, m'lady," she says.

"Good morning," I respond.

"I'm Jemima, your lady's maid, I'm here to help you dress."

"Oh." I don't know if I need a maid because no one thinks I'm capable of dressing myself, or if it's because they think I shouldn't have to. I don't suppose it matters, I'm supposed to be playing a part to keep from drawing too much of the wrong kind of attention.

Pip raises her head and huffs as I get out of bed, but she doesn't actually move. It seems as if I'm not the only one who has enjoyed having a comfortable bed to sleep on, even if it's still surreal how much my life has changed since this time yesterday.

"Would you like me to remove your night dress, m'lady?" Jemima asks.

"I can do it," I respond, lifting the thin fabric over my head and dropping it onto the bed. The cold air hits my skin and a shiver goes through me. I hate being so exposed, but I know there's nothing for it.

She holds a petticoat out for me and I slip my arms into it. The fabric feels nice against my skin, and it smells freshly laundered. I think my days of wearing the same clothes for days on end are probably over.

The maid doesn't say anything as she helps me with a lavish dress. I'm sure that both of my cousins would say it's plain, but not to me. It's far fancier than anything I've ever worn before.

"How would you like your hair?" she asks.

I reach up to touch it. "What do you think is best?"

"Most ladies prefer a braided crown, or a twist," she says. "I'm particularly good at the crown."

I offer her a weak smile. "Then that's what I'll have." I go to sit down at the dressing table, catching hold of my reflection in response. My skin looks a little paler than normal, though that could just be my imagination. I part my lips as inconspicuously as possible, but can't see any hint of teeth.