If one were to attempt to read the situation in the room only by the moonlight and shadows which played against the wall opposite the window, they might have thought that some great and terrible creature of the night had made away with a small boy-child, for in her cloak and armor the Countess resembled Nosferatu himself, while young Niklas’ visage seemed even frailer in her presence.
None but herself could have known just how unsure this large, yet equally young and inexperienced, Countess felt in this situation. An unknown element had arrived in her abode that day, one that could belong to any number of greedy and ambitious foes looking to take what little comfort and normalcy she yet possessed.
But then, the young man trembling beneath her cried out “-I am here now as your lawfully wedded husband!” in a voice filled with fearful desperation.
Behind her inscrutable silver mask Uldred’s mouth fell agape as her mind went white with shock. Her entire body stiffened as a shot of adrenaline coursed through her from her crown down to her very toes!
“Muh-” She nearly stammered, once, managing to control herself with the iron grip of her will.
This man is a trickster and a charlatan! He must be! Who else would claim such ridiculous nonsense?!
And so the argument between these two continued, but louder still, and Uldred was all but prepared to leave this intruder to rot forever in that dungeon for attempting to toy with her. She was startled, then, when her old servant Belfort appeared behind the thick wooden door, panting and gasping for air as if he had just run a great distance!
He handed her a writ, which she took silently, noting the anxious look on his wrinkled face. She finally peered at its contents and her eyes grew ever wider as she kept reading.
This was an official document of marriage.
Signed by Kaiser van der Leigh at the left, and by King Boratan a bit above in the center… and also, somehow, signed by Uldred of Petrice on the right.
Whenever did I sign this? Her mind raced as she poured through her memories for some clue. When did this first come before me? I cannot recall! …And yet I cannot recall most of the documents which come through my study, for I barely have the time to glance over the contents before I mark my signature!
Forcefully, and with typical ignorance of her true strength, Uldred thrust the parcel back into her servant’s hands and inadvertently pushed him back into a stumble. Without another word she departed from the room and back into the darkness of the hall beyond.
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Great anxious tears welled up in Uldred’s violet eyes and clouded what little vision she retained in those dark passages, and her normally sturdy frame shook violently! She was married? To a man? And one whom she did not know? In recent years Uldred had barely so much as spoken to a man who was not her butler, let alone to one her own age and whom she apparently shared such an… intimate relationship with!
The thought of that horrid word, “relationship”! It was enough to flush her face beet-red behind her silver mask, and her lip quivered at the thought. She had faced down swords and axes and crossbows aplenty in her time serving as the Countess of Petrice, and yet the thought of a boy looking down on her for her lack of etiquette and grace, her defects and disfigurements, why that would hurt her deeper than any blade could possibly cut!
I shouldn’t have gone and done that! Why did I do that? Why did I try to be like Father? Father was smart, and I’m so…stupid! A burden-beast and lame in the head besides!
So stuck in her thoughts was she that as she traveled her shoulder collided with the sharp corner-bend with a loud clatter, and while she ached terribly for it, she continued on.
“Oh he probably hates me now!” She bemoaned aloud to the empty darkness. She sighed in exasperation as she clasped her hands together upon the back of her head. Her ears burned, flushed with her embarrassment.
He probably hated me already. Who would want to be forced to leave their home, to come down from that pretty capital to this sad and monster-riddled land to be married to a big, ugly, unmannered woman like me?
At long last she reached the threshold to her private chambers, the only place in the world where she was safe and comfortable. No sooner had the door shut behind her than did she begin furiously casting off her filthy armor and musty traveling clothes, and finally her dull silver mask and hood followed suit and clattered to the floor! She stared into the mirror then, meeting her own violet eyes; in the dim illumination of her single low-melted candle she could only see the right side of her face, while the left remained cloaked by her long bangs. Behind the shadow of her hair a sort of skeletal outline could only faintly be seen.
Uldred grimaced in disgust at the sight of her own face. Covering it with her hands, she fell back onto her bed and its thick fur blankets, which she shortly burrowed into. She curled up like a newborn in the dark warmth there, and as she succumbed to slumber, a part of her hoped that she simply did not awake again to face the next day.
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Niklas arose early the next morning to the sun beaming warmly in through his window and the chirping of a bluejay just outside it. It was a welcome sight, but it was fleeting, for even as he stretched and yawned, a gray and heavy cloud rolled over the sky and Petrice was weary and colorless once again.
Niklas engaged in the usual stretches and light exercises that made up his morning routine. They were most light indeed, for only a few repetitions of each were enough to bring about in him a huffing breath and heavy perspiration. Only a scant few moments more had him bent over his knees and gasping for air.
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“Ha… Haa! Y-yet again, not a single improvement!” A hint of frustration rang out in his voice.
No matter, it was not like this was any different from every other day. He rubbed his hand upon his bicep, which was thin enough that he could wrap his thumb and forefinger all the way around until the tips were just brushing against each other, and he sighed in resignation.
A knocking against the door came then, and the butler called out from the hallway beyond.
“Breakfast has been made ready for you, sir!”
“Thank you!” Niklas called out in reply. “I will be right down to join you!”
A seed of nervous energy sprouted in his chest and threatened to grow greater vines of anxiety upon his heart.
I wonder if ‘she’ will be there..?
His fears, though, were unfounded. For the large dining hall, which somehow remained majestic while empty of any decoration besides dust and cobwebs, lay unoccupied besides a few long wooden tables that spanned the length of the hall. The end of one bore a meager serving of porridge and toasted bread, and a steaming cup of the thinnest tea that the man had ever laid eyes on. Fortunately—or perhaps unfortunately, he did not quite know—Niklas was much too preoccupied with his thoughts to bear any mind to the mostly bland and tasteless meal. In fact, so depleted had he been from the prior day’s fracas, that he feasted quite ravenously on the stuff!
“Sir.” The butler announced himself in the doorway behind where Niklas sat. “The archives have been cleaned to your liking!”
“My thanks, sir, I can get right to work on the finances after my meal!” Niklas declared.
“Right, sir.”
A small giddiness took the young Noble then. Finally, something he was good at! All of this hard travel, fraternization, diplomacy? These were all outside Niklas’ wheelhouse. Numbers and records, neat and tidy! Those are where he was most at home. In that realm he was King, and his peers would fall over themselves to praise him for his merit!
But that seed of nervousness yet remained in his chest, for as he thought back upon his momentary glance into the library the day before, he recalled the chilling sight of a pale, bony and wraith-like hand that slowly crept from behind one of the bookshelves as they departed.
Surely that was just another castle worker… a librarian perhaps! Yes, that’s it! It was only the librarian!
Truthfully Niklas was much too excited about his work to be dissuaded from it, even by some eerie happenstance.
“Would you like me to fetch the Countess? For she might assist you with such matters of records better than I..” Asked the butler.
“No! No. There is no need.” Niklas hastily replied, raising his hands as if to physically stop the notion any further. “I will be quite alright on my own. Thank you.”
He would not have that large and brutish woman cast a shadow over his enjoyment with any nagging queries or threats of violence. Best he stayed away from her as much as he could.
Brushing the crumbs from his mouth with his handkerchief, the young lad arose with a start and slapped his poor wooden spoon down upon the table emphatically.
“All right!” He announced enthusiastically. “To the archives, my good man!”
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The tall wooden doors creaked open once again at the behest of the old butler, as they had the previous day.
“A little oil will do wonders for those hinges, I assure you.” Niklas commented.
“Oil? What a luxury that shall be!” The butler replied with a merry chuckle, which caused Niklas to grimace at the notion that a little oil could be considered ‘luxurious’ to a Noble house.
Indeed though, the place had been cleaned of webs and of dust, at least that which could be seen in this suffocating dark, a feat that was quite miraculous for such a small and feeble man to accomplish over such a large space, and only within the hours that Niklas had slept as well!
“Wonderful work, Belfort..!” Niklas exclaimed, looking up and around for a moment in his awe.
“I appreciate it, my Lord!” The older man then handed Niklas the lit candle which he held in a saucer, as well as a small brass bell.
“I have much to do still,” The butler told him. “So take this light and this bell. You can simply ring it if you need something of old Belfort!”
And with that he made his exit and pushed the door shut behind him, leaving Niklas alone to his books and his records.
Some time passed, hours at least, though time was ever an inscrutable thing in this part of the Castle. Niklas had long since taken in the contents of many records. Some were modern, such as the Castles’ meager expenditures and its even more meager income, but others were from decades past such as old businesses or business partners of the Counts and Countesses of old. In his mind now, Niklas had a well-formed picture of the history of the territory simply from its records of finances and dealings, without even taking a peep at its official written history.
It was an unfortunate thing, then, that the lad could only run his hand through his short-cut hair and sigh in displeasure.
“What a mess indeed!” He said aloud into the dark, cavernous room. He then happened to peer down at his candle, only just noticing that it was nearly burnt to its base!
At first he thought to reach for that brass bell that old Belfort had given him, but then he hesitated and frowned.
The poor man is likely cleaning this castle from top to bottom all on his lonesome, for there have been no other servants on record here for quite a few years!
The young man arose and looked about with what little light he still carried. “Surely in a place of learning and study such as this there would be a cupboard of candles somewhere..?” He wondered aloud.
And so for the next several minutes he jostled and jiggled every little handle of every drawer he could find, but naught but cobwebs and a few bits of charcoal or scraps could he find within them. The flame of his candle flickered and strained in its final gasps, before it finally, poof, vanished and left him alone in pitch darkness!
“Damnable luck!” He cursed. “Where is the door again?”
He put out his hands before him so that he might not stumble into walls or chairs in his blindness. Suddenly, though, he froze, goosebumps rising upon his skin. For he felt something upon his neck, like a cold breath! Then a hand, a long, bony and pale thing, reached out and placed itself upon his shoulder!