I shrugged. ‘Lost, I guess.’
‘Well, I can help with that.’ She smiled and picked up the bucket and mop beside her feet. ‘Take the servant’s stairs. They are at the end of here.’ She pointed in the opposite direction from where I had come. ‘Go three floors down and follow the main corridor and it will bring you to the entrance hall.’ With one last smile, she hurried off before I could even thank her.
Sure enough, at the end of the corridor there were a set of narrow spiralling steps, which twisted around and around a column until they opened out into a wide hallway, which in turn had smaller passages branching from it.
I stopped, staring down its length. The emptiness of the place left me feeling very alone and very vulnerable, as the scale of the situation hit me again. At the end of the corridor, blending with the darkness, I could see a man crumpling to the ground, rubbing his neck and scrambling away from me.
I shook my head, smacking my palm against the panelled wall.
‘Shit,’ I breathed, as I realized a tiny trickle of blood was flowing from my raw knuckle. I quickly wiped it away, not wanting to attract any unwanted attention.
‘Father says you shouldn’t swear. It’s unladylike,’ said a quiet voice from below me. I looked down to see a little girl with the widest, most emerald-green eyes. Her long blonde hair fell in tight ringlets around her face and she had perfect features, right down to her button nose. She looked to be about four.
‘Who are you?’ I asked, taking a couple of steps back.
‘I am Princess Thyme,’ she sung, twirling around, making her pink frilly dress whip around after her. She smiled, revealing two pinpricks for fangs. A kid vampire. ‘And you are Violet, and Kaspar brought you from London.’ It was a statement, not a question. I said nothing, astounded at the sureness she had of her words.
After a minute, I recovered my voice. ‘You’re Kaspar’s little sister?’ I asked, bending down to her level.
‘And Cain’s and Lyla’s and Jag’s and Sky’s,’ she chimed, doing another pirouette.
‘Who are Jag and Sky?’
‘They are my big, big brothers. They are really old,’ she stated with pride. ‘I like them better because they are fun when they come and visit from Romania.’ She pouted, looking down at the ground. ‘All the others are mean when I ask to play games.’ Her bottom lip quivered and I panicked at her complete change of mood.
‘Hey, don’t get upset.’
Her little eyes filled with hope, and she looked up at me. ‘You’ll play a game with me, won’t you?’ She tightened her grip around my hand. ‘Will you carry me?’ She didn’t wait for me to answer, but took a few steps back and made a running leap – I only just caught her in my arms. Realizing I didn’t have much choice, I complied and followed her directions down the corridor.
‘Do you have a sister?’ Thyme asked, twiddling with my hair.
‘I have a little sister,’ I answered. ‘She’s thirteen.’
‘What’s her name?’ she asked with vague interest, more preoccupied with my hair.
‘Lily,’ I answered.
‘That’s a pretty name. Do you have a brother?’ she carried on.
‘I did. But he died,’ I mumbled.
‘That’s sad,’ she replied.
‘Yeah, it is,’ I breathed.
‘Do you have a mummy and daddy?’ I turned my head and saw her cute little face twisted with something I couldn’t read and she tugged a strand of my hair, making me wince.
‘Yes, I do.’ I stopped myself, wondering why I was volunteering so much to a little girl. My eyes misted over and a sick feeling clutched at my throat. Homesickness. ‘What about you? Do you have a mummy?’
‘Mummy can’t be here at the moment,’ she said with a blunt tone far beyond her years. ‘My daddy is always too busy to play with me. He is always in a bad mood.’
We fell into silence for a while. She started playing with my hair again, twisting it around her finger.
‘You’re really pretty.’
‘Thanks,’ I said, unsure how to take the compliment. ‘You’re really cute,’ I replied.
‘I know.’ She gave a little sigh. ‘I wish I had a sister like you. You are nicer than Lyla and much nicer than those horrible girls Kaspar keeps bringing home,’ she muttered darkly, again sounding far older than she must be.
‘Girls?’ I asked, trying not to seem too interested.
‘His friends. But they always stay for the night and they are really mean to me,’ she blabbered.
It didn’t take much brainpower to work out what these ‘friends’ were here for. Again, she seemed content to play with my hair until I felt a cold breeze on the back of my neck and I almost dropped her.
‘What the heck are you doing?’ I screeched as she ran her teeth up and down my neck. She pulled away, giving me a toothy grin.
‘I’m not going to bite you, silly!’ She giggled. ‘I’m smelling you.’
‘Well, don’t do it. It’s not very nice.’ I replied, trying to keep my cool whilst eyeing her with suspicion.
We wandered through the corridors until she finally pointed out a door, telling me it was her playroom. We went in and she soon had her dolls lined up, ready to attend a tea party. She kept me captive for what seemed like hours, although it can’t have been much more than one.
‘Thyme, I think I had better go back now,’ I announced at last, setting aside my imaginary cake and tea. Her eyes became round and a sheen coated them, but she gave in when I remained firm.
‘Okay,’ she said in a wistful tone. Taking a hold of my hand, we headed off again. She led the way as I had no idea where we were until we broke out into the light of the entrance hall. We crossed and were just passing the staircase when Kaspar appeared from behind the banisters.
‘Thyme! Why aren’t you with your nanny?’ he barked. I froze. Thyme wiggled out of my grip, scurrying behind me and peeking out from behind my leg.
‘Give her a break, she was looking after me,’ I explained, trying to dislodge her from my jeans.
His face went from blank to furious in less than a second and I saw his eyes become black. ‘Thyme, go to your room. I need to have a word with your friend here.’ His voice echoed across the hall and Thyme disappeared in a flash. Although his tone remained steady, there was a steeliness to it that made me regret opening my mouth. I knew he meant business when he grabbed my shoulder and pulled me through one of the grand doors that mirrored the entrance.
Wow, talk about a ballroom. The door we had just entered through was raised on a balcony overlooking a huge room, at least the size of several tennis courts put together. The walls were made of white marble flecked with gold and the huge pillars that were embedded within the walls were coated in gold leaf. The floor was wooden and so well varnished it resembled liquid more than anything else. At either end there were two arched, cathedral-style windows and to the left a throne had been set upon a slightly raised platform. But what really caught my eye was the chandelier dangling precariously from the ceiling. Hanging from a central ring, tiny baskets woven from glass cupped thousands of black candles, all unlit. As Kaspar shut the door behind us, a gust of air whipped through the air and stirred the glass. A few of the baskets jostled each other and they were so delicate that I half-expected them to break. Instead, they chimed and continued to ring long after the baskets had stopped moving, chased by the echo of the door closing.
‘How dare you tell me how to treat my own sister?’ He only needed to whisper as his