Night settled in like a heavy shroud. In the servant quarters, the lamps burned low, casting long shadows across the stone floor. Aria lay awake on her narrow cot, restless as sleep was far from her, eyes staring at the ceiling as the sounds of the castle hummed softly around her.
This was not survival but captivity dressed as order.
The days blurred together with scrubbing floors, lowering her eyes, memorizing rules that stripped her of voice and choice.
The maids spoke little, laughed never, and dreamed only in silence. Aria felt herself shrinking with every passing hour.
She turned onto her side, fingers curling into the thin blanket.
Her brother's face rose in her mind without warning.
Elior.
Younger by five years. Too curious. Too brave for his own good. He had clung to her the night the village fell, his small hands shaking as screams tore through the darkness. She had lost him in the chaos—pushed away by soldiers, dragged in the opposite direction.
She missed him so much and had searched for him ever since.
The thought that he might be somewhere within these walls made her chest ache and urge to find him increase . The vampires captured humans constantly, slaves came in from different villages. If Elior was alive, there's high chance of him being found somewhere in this castle.
And if he was here, she could not leave without him.
The next morning, Aria moved through her duties with a new awareness. She listened more closely, watched more carefully. Whispers floated between servants names, places, warnings. She memorized faces, ages, scars.
"Have you ever seen a boy?" she asked Maris quietly while folding linens. "Dark hair. A small scar on his chin."
Maris stiffened. "Don't ask questions like that."
"He's my brother," Aria whispered. "He was taken the same night I was."
Maris's expression softened, just slightly. "Children are usually sent to the lower halls… or sold elsewhere," she said carefully. "If he's here, he wouldn't be in the upper wings."
Hope flickered painfully in Aria's chest.
That night, she wandered closer to the servant corridors than she was supposed to, pretending to gather supplies. She studied the exits, the staircases, the way guards changed shifts. Escape was possible but only if she knew where to go.
And only if she could take her brother with her.
The castle was vast, its walls thick with secrets. Every locked door felt like a challenge, every shadow like a threat. But the thought of remaining here of slowly becoming numb, obedient, invisible was worse than fear.
She did not belong in Castle Umbriel.
She never had.
As she returned to her quarters, Aria pressed her palm against her chest, feeling her heartbeat steady and strong. Whatever strange strength had begun to stir within her, she would use it—not for the king, not for survival alone, but for freedom.
And for Elior.
She would find him.
Even if it meant breaking every rule the castle had carved into her bones.