DARK CRAVINGS

CHAPTER SIX: RULES

The scent of roasting meat and polished wood filled the corridors as Aurelia followed a silent maid through the heart of the castle.

Dinner, apparently, was a formal affair.

She had been bathed, dressed, and gently escorted from her quarters without a single word of explanation. The gown chosen for her was a deep emerald velvet with long sleeves and a neckline that flirted with impropriety. She hadn’t chosen it. It had simply appeared on her bed, and refusing felt pointless.

Everything in this place felt… directed. Like invisible hands were nudging her along an unseen path.

The hallway ahead opened into a massive dining hall, as grand and overwhelming as the rest of the estate. A crystal chandelier dripped from the ceiling, scattering fractured moonlight over an impossibly long table. The room was cast in candlelight and silver shadows. The far end of the table remained empty, its chair tall and thronelike.

Aurelia’s breath hitched. Was that for him?

But the man — the shadow — she was supposedly engaged to was nowhere in sight.

Instead, the other guests at the table turned their eyes to her.

There weren’t many. Maybe ten. All dressed in muted tones, all with eyes that lingered too long or not at all. They looked like members of a secret court, all bound by some shared understanding she hadn’t been invited to.

The head maid, the one who had first greeted her days ago, approached.

“Miss Monroe,” she said with a polite smile. “You may sit here.”

Aurelia took the seat offered — the one closest to the empty throne.

As soon as she was seated, the others resumed quiet conversation. Except it wasn’t quite conversation. It was… ritualistic. Measured. Careful.

The food arrived moments later. Gleaming silver platters. Roasted duck glazed in pomegranate. Fresh-baked bread still steaming. Creamed vegetables in delicate porcelain. It looked divine.

And yet, a tightness lingered in her chest.

She looked down the table, wondering if anyone else found this dinner unnerving — but the expressions on the other guests were unreadable. They ate with elegance, their movements mechanical, as if they’d done this a thousand times before.

And maybe they had.

Halfway through her meal, Aurelia leaned toward the woman beside her, a stern-looking brunette with flawless posture and icy eyes.

“Is he… coming?” she asked, keeping her voice low.

The woman stiffened slightly. “He rarely dines with us.”

“But this is my first—”

“He’s aware.”

Aurelia blinked. “Do you know when I’ll meet him?”

The woman smiled — but it wasn’t warm. “When he decides to be seen.”

There was no room for argument in that answer.

Aurelia nodded and returned her attention to the food, even though her appetite had started to slip away.

She could feel it now — the absence of him. A presence made stronger by its void. Like the entire room was waiting for someone who never planned to arrive.

---

The dinner continued with occasional small talk. No one asked Aurelia much. They didn’t seem curious about her — more like they were watching to see if she’d break.

Dessert came in the form of rose-flavored custard and a sharp dark wine that tasted older than the vines it came from. Aurelia drank sparingly. Everything about this night felt like walking a tightrope in the dark.

It was just past seven-thirty when the head maid rose from her position near the side doors and cleared her throat.

“All guests are reminded that the evening bell will ring shortly,” she said, her voice formal. “As always, please retire to your rooms by the hour. None shall leave until sunrise.”

Aurelia frowned. “What does that mean?”

The woman beside her — the brunette — gently set her spoon down. “It means what it says. No one leaves their room after eight. Not until morning.”

“Why?”

There was a long pause.

Then the woman said softly, “Because those are the rules.”

Aurelia looked around the table, waiting for someone to laugh. No one did.

“Is this a safety thing?” she pressed. “Security?”

“Miss Monroe,” the head maid interjected smoothly, “all will be made clear when the Master is ready. Until then, your cooperation is appreciated.”

Master.

The word sent a strange chill through her spine.

Aurelia sat back slowly, feeling the shape of the rule settle in her chest like a stone. She didn’t know why it bothered her so much. Maybe it was the way it had been said — so unquestioned, so automatic. Like they were all used to something lurking in the dark that no one was allowed to speak about.

---

The dinner ended precisely at a quarter to eight.

The guests stood in unison, each offering her a brief nod before disappearing down separate corridors. Not one of them tried to linger.

Aurelia remained seated for a moment too long.

Then the head maid appeared at her side.

“Miss Monroe. Allow me to escort you back to your quarters.”

Aurelia stood slowly. “Why is everyone so afraid of the dark here?”

The maid smiled, but her eyes didn’t. “They’re not afraid. They’re respectful.”

“Of what?”

But the woman didn’t answer.

---

The walk back to her room felt longer this time.

Shadows stretched across the marble floor, cast by moonlight filtered through blood-red curtains. The torches flickered, but not from wind. It felt like the walls themselves were breathing.

The air grew colder as they climbed the grand staircase.

At exactly 7:59, the maid opened the door to Aurelia’s chamber.

“You have everything you need?” she asked.

“I… think so.”

“Very good.” She turned to leave, then paused. “Miss Monroe?”

“Yes?”

“Do not open your door. No matter what you hear.”

The door closed before she could ask what that meant.

Aurelia stood in her room alone, the fire in the hearth the only source of warmth. Somewhere deep in the castle, a distant bell rang.

Once.

Twice.

Three times.

Eight solemn chimes echoed through the air.

Then silence.

The kind of silence that seemed to hum.

Aurelia didn’t sleep for hours.

She sat curled in bed, wrapped in blankets, staring at the locked door and listening to a stillness so complete it sounded like the house had gone to sleep — or was holding its breath.

There were no screams. No footsteps. No monstrous shadows sliding under the door.

Just silence.

But still, she didn’t dare move.

She didn’t know what would happen if she opened that door.

And tonight, she didn’t want to find out.

---