Vedis woke slowly, like climbing up from a deep pit. She feels the castle around her, hovering over her with a warm dark presence. It was soothing, welcoming, as if she was it’s child and it was watching her stir into wakefulness. Perhaps she was. There was an ancient horror that lingered at the edges of it’s essence, but it was more comforting than not. She knew horror, she knew the desire for bloodlust better than most. The ache of it echoed through her, making her shift upon the bed, her lips parting in a soft moan.

The sound more than and desire to wake drew her from her slumber. She blinks up at the stone ceiling, letting her bearings come back to her naturally. She remembers Kitori’s escape and frowns. She pulls herself up, still fully clothed, and looks around. She had no bed within the castle, and she did not know who’s bed she was in. Swinging her legs over the edge and raises an eyebrow at the note set delicately atop a pile of fabric on the chair next to the bed.

She pulled the note to her and opened it with delicate fingers. The paper was thick parchment, the handwriting heavy, yet elegant in it’s form.

Lady Vedis,

This dress was found in the laboratory, the servants brought it to me under the assumption that it was yours.

We shall speak further when you wake.

Lord Maric

She frowned. She had no clothing, no personal effects here at all. Everything she owned was borrowed, even the body she inhabited.

She stands and lifts up the dress, layers upon layers of black silk falls from her fingers. It’s beauty was undeniable, the fabric immaculate.

“It’s beautiful.” she whispers, pressing it to her body for size.

She feels the castle’s approval around her and looks up at the silent stone walls. A smirk curling her lips, “Was this your doing?” she murmurs, having no idea how it could possibly produce something so fine. The silence seems to confirm it. She chuckles and begins to pull her current dress away, leaving the heaps of tull on the bed. The water in the tub was still warm and she made use of it, cleaning off Kitori’s pale blood, letting her hair fall around her shoulders in crimson waves. The dress itself, when she put it on, was cool and smooth against her skin. A perfect fit.

She left her dress upon the bed. It was not hers, the servants would see it cleaned and returned properly when they came to clean the room. She smooths her hands down her sides as she moves towards the door, running her fingers through her hair to work the knots from the ends. It curls in little wet ringlets around her fingers, falling loosely around her face.

She smiles, realizing she was still in the vaults and made a note to speak with Maric about the strange bedroom she had found herself in when they spoke.

Her hunger made her skin buzz as she moved through the dark hallways beneath the castle, a pale ghost swathed in shadows.

A memory, trapped in flesh.


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