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Wandering around the castlees with certain limitations, not just the one about Cassian’s wing, located in the west wing. To that is added not being able to leave these walls without thepany of guardsb. /bMost of them are Diluted, and although they seem to be equipped with full armor that protects them from the sun, they don’t seem very willing to fulfill my wishes. So that limits my outings to nighttime walks. Except on some asions, when a tall man, with hair as ck as his beyes/b, has offered to apany me. Despite being a Pure, his presence is not entirely unpleasant to me; he limits himself to letting me walk while following several steps behind, silent and barely making a sound as he moves. You could say we tolerate each other.

I’m sitting on a small stone bench beneath the shade of arge tree from which violet flowers fall, resembling wisteria. Every now and then, I think I see them move out of the corner of my eye without the breeze stirring themb, /bbut I tell myself I’m just imagining things because of this ce.

Everything seems sinister, unreal, or magical. I wouldn’t know which word to use to define it.

The sound of the fountain, where the water pours from the jug of a small cherub, is rxing as I read an old book from the library, History of Drystia.

Drystia was formed approximately one thousand three hundred and fifty–four years ago. Very few remember the name the continent used to bear, and no book bothers to mention it. For the most part, it is ruled by vampires, or as the book calls them, the children of Lilith. The north and the south are at odds; the Twisted Forest serves bas /ba border barrier between them. The south is dominated by rebellious Diluted who want to impose themselves over the Pures, whom they use of treating them poorly, vilely, and despotically. The Pures control the north; a powerful family, supported by other well–established ones, governs among them.

But, as the pages clearly state, they are not the only ones on the continent. There is mention of a small territory located in the west, near the Corrupted Waters, where women who court death dwell.

“Reading when you have so little time left to live is a waste.”

I snap the book shut and ce it on my knees, startled. I push a strand of hair behind my ear as bI /blift my gaze to Mavka. I recognize her because ever since I arrived at the castle six days ago, herughter while writhing on Cassian’sp during dinner has been something that drills into my

bsenses/bb. /b

“Hello, Mavka.” I put on my most polite tone. “Out for a walk?”

I look over her shoulder, searching for her escort, but she’s alone, along with her intricately embroidered parasol. Her off–the–shoulder dressb, /bfloor- length sleeves, and silky yellow fabric create a lovely contrast with her tanned skin and amber eyes.

“Don’t look, there’s no one else here but us.” She makes a mocking gesture with her hand. “It’s one of the perks of being the master’s favorite.”

Ah, I see.

Mavka is like Bianca, the daughter of one of the biggest merchants in Ravag, my small vige. Always with airs of grandeur, unting the fabrics her father brought her from distantnds I’ll never get to see. She loved to show off in front of the others, boasting of her wealth. bMavka /bis the Bianca of this ce. The queen bee.

And the queen bee seems to feel threatened by a mere worker bee.

“Is there something bI /bcan do for you?”

I try my best not to sound smug, just kind. I don’t want trouble–just to bread /bquietly under the treeb, /bendure dinner as best I can, sleep, and repeat the same process until my final day. Which, ording to Cassian, doesn’t seem far away.

“There is.” A wolfish smile stretches her lips. “The rest of the bloodmaids wonder why you’re bso /bintent on not spending time with them. I, too, find myself wondering.” She taps her chin thoughtfully. “Is it that you think we’re beneath you and not worthy of your presence?”

“What?” My voice rises an octave. “No! Of course not!”

“You haven’t wanted toe to any of our card nights.”

“It’s just that “I stammer. “I prefer to be in my quarters.”

“Don’t lie,” she snaps. “It’s obvious the maids‘ gossip has gone to your head.”

“What gossip?”

She lets out a bitterugh as she narrows her eyes at me, something like hatred burning in them.

b“/bAs if you didn’t know.” She clicks her tongue. “The innocent ruby queen…”

bI /bwrinkle my face at the nickname. Yes, it’s true that bfrom /btime to time, that namees whispered on the wind. It feels more like mockery than ttery. A constant reminder that I was bought.

b12:18 /bPM

“That’s just nonsense from the maids,” I reply.

With every second, her face seems to burn brighter with rage. Her eyes are now mere slits, her lips curled clenching so tightly.

b“/bWhat do you have that the rest of us don’t?”

The tone of her voice makes the sparrows drinking at the fountain scatter in fright.

“Mavka I think you’re exaggerating…”

“Exaggerating?” she spits the word. “Exaggerating? It’s your fault the master spoke to me like that!”

in

a sneerb, /band her fists are white from

?

15

I frown, not understanding what she means, and I’m about to press the book to my chest and walk back to the castle when Mavka lunges at me. The handle of her parasol hits me, and I instinctively reach for my temple, where a small blot of blood stains my fingertips. I look up, frightened, at the push her off. My seated position on

exact moment her hands bwrap /baround my neck. I grab her wrists, digging my nails into her skin as bI /bstruggle

the bench puts me at a disadvantage. I try to stand as I fight for a breath of air.

“Why you? What’s so special about you?”

Seeing that her hands aren’t loosening at all, I go for her face, scratching whatever I can reach. She lets

out a sharp

p her hands to her

jeyes.

“Mavka!”

We both turn at the authoritative voice of the Pure with ck hair who now stands just meters away, on the other side

of the fountain. He looks iat /ithe dark–haired, golden–eyed woman with an impassive expression, only the tension in his bjaw /bbetrays his true anger. The prating gaze he casts makes the hairs on my neck stand on end. I don’t want to be the target of such wrath.

“You!” Mavka turns back to me with a trembling chin and the skin around her eyes red. “You knew he was watching!”

“I never said you were alone,” I reply, tired of her usations.

With a childish grunt, she grabs her parasol and walks away, dragging the hem of her dress across the stone floor. She lowers her head as she passes the Pure, shrinking considerably. I stand up, keeping my gaze downb, /bsmooth my skirts, and clutch the book tightly to my chestb, /bas if someone might rip it from me at any moment.

“Thank you,” I whisper.