Eloise stood quietly beside her sister until Eric's voice broke through the tension.
"I'm a little busy right now. Can you both wait a bit?" he asked, already moving with urgency.
Eloise offered a faint smile and bowed slightly. "Yes, of course."
"Busy yourselves around the castle," he added over his shoulder before disappearing down a corridor.
Heather, on the other hand, grinned as her eyes caught sight of someone familiar.
"Sir George hasn't left."
The gentleman approached, graceful in movement and charm.
"Still here, my lady?" he greeted with a courteous smile.
"Waiting for my cousin, dear sire," Heather responded, tilting her head ever so slightly, her tone playful.
"And you, sire?" she asked in return.
"Waiting for my father," he replied, his voice low and composed.
Eloise let the conversation fade into the background and slipped away. She wandered into the gardens, drawn by the calm it offered. A cool breeze brushed her cheeks as the moon began to rise—round and full in the darkening sky.
She noticed rows upon rows of unusual blue flowers, all blooming in unison. Their color was too rich, too consistent, as though chosen for a purpose. She bent down and plucked one, studying its delicate petals.
A low, distant sound—a growl or a roar...sent a chill creeping down her spine.
She straightened slowly, heart beginning to race. The castle grounds suddenly felt too still, the air too quiet. She glanced up at the full moon.
It's just a story, she reminded herself. Werewolves aren't real. They were hunted into extinction... or maybe they never existed at all.
"Mi lady."
The voice made her startle. She turned to see a maid, eyes wide.
"This part of the garden is forbidden," the maid said with a bow.
"I apologize. I must've gotten lost." Eloise quickly tucked the flower into her skirt pocket and turned back toward the castle.
Inside, she found Heather alone once more.
"Where did you go?" her sister asked.
"Is Eric back yet?" Eloise deflected.
"He's coming now," Heather replied as Eric approached.
"Let's go, cousins," he said with a smile, ushering them toward the carriage.
Back in the garden, a different maid wandered among the same blue flowers. She bent down, plucking one with a careless smirk.
"What's so special about these flowers that the king guards them like gold?"
A shadow flickered past.
She turned, confused. "Who's there?"
Silence.
Then she turned again—and froze.
A beast stood before her. Tall, cloaked in black fur, its eyes burned like golden embers. It had a wolf's head with jaws split into a snarl, sharp fangs bared. Its clawed hands were human-like, but monstrous.
The maid screamed...but the creature was faster. It lunged and tore into her before she could escape, her cries swallowed by the night.
⸻
Later that evening, back in their shared room, Heather peeked at Eloise.
"Are you upset with me, Elo?"
Eloise lay on her side, quiet.
"No, Heather. I'm not," she said, voice low.
"I saw Mr. Fisher tonight... He came with Lady Camilla."
"I know," Eloise said softly.
"Do you like the man?" Eloise asked glancing at her sister, changing the subject. "Sir George, I mean."
"I don't know, Eloise. But he seems wealthy." Her voice was light, but her eyes gave her away.
Eloise said nothing, only sighed and rolled over to face the table. Her eyes landed on the blue flower she had picked. Something about it unsettled her now.
Was I truly imagining the sound...?
She also couldn't shake Lord Asher from her thoughts. The way he'd appeared out of nowhere, the way people steered clear after their dance.
Who are you?
The next day, Eloise was washing dishes when Mr. Eddie approached.
"Lady Raquel has called for you."
Eloise wiped her hands quickly and followed him. Heather watched her go, her brow creased in worry.
In the dining room, Aunt Raquel sat like a storm cloud. But she wasn't alone.
Lord Asher sat beside her, dressed in dark, impeccable layers. Eloise froze upon seeing him, heart thudding.
Compared to his elegance, her maid's attire felt like a scarlet letter.
Eloise bowed her head.
"I can offer you cleaner, more disciplined maids, Lord Asher," Aunt Raquel said with a strained smile.
Asher's eyes didn't waver. "And yet, I asked for this one. Why is it so difficult to let go of a peasant?"
Eloise blinked, confused. What is happening?
Raquel's smile faltered. She hadn't expected him to press this request so forcefully.
"I'll send her to you tomorrow."
"I'm leaving with her today," Asher replied coldly, his voice brooking no argument.
"Go get your things," Raquel snapped at Eloise, trying to mask her unease.
Eloise's heart dropped.
"Aunt, why are you sending me away?" Her voice cracked, vulnerable.
Raquel stood abruptly, eyes blazing.
"Are you questioning me?"
She raised her hand—ready to strike.
But before the slap could land, a firm hand caught her wrist.
Lord Asher had moved like lightning. His grip on Raquel's arm was unrelenting.
"Did you forget?" he said, voice like ice. "No one touches what belongs to me."
Raquel paled. She yanked her hand away, shaken and humiliated.
She turned to the butler without another word.
Mr. Eddie stepped forward, gently but urgently guiding Eloise out of the room.
Tears spilled down her cheeks.
"I don't want to go," she whispered, clinging to the edge of the doorframe.
"You must," Mr. Eddie said quietly. "Your aunt plans to marry you off."