Page 15 of Once Upon an Enchanted Castle

When Bella remained rooted in place, still clutching the book, her father walked to her. His face was creased with concern.

“Go on up and rest,” he said. “I want to have a look about to make sure all is well.”

Gerald handed her a candle to light her way.

“All right. Goodnight, Father.”

Truthfully, she was exhausted and ready to fall into a soft bed. She was glad Emmaline was with there to help her.

She started for the stairs, the wood floor creaking under her steps. Up and up and they ascended, the lone candle lighting her way casting long, ominous shadows along the wall with its damask wallpaper in muted colors her mother surely picked.

Her room was off the top of the stairs. She pushed open the door to see it was as she left it all those years ago. With her candle, she lit the others in the room, illuminating it in a warm golden glow.

The white four-poster bed still hosted the satin and lace coverlet. Perched against the pillows at the head of the bed was her well-worn, well-loved teddy bear. She forgot she left him behind hoping he would guard the place while she was gone. The bed was piled high with packages from their shopping excursion earlier that day, which now seemed to be more than a few hours ago.

Emmaline started sorting and unwrapping packages as she placed the single candelabra on the bedside table, still clutching the book in her other hand, and reached for the bear. His eyes were made with two black buttons sewn into the brown material. He was all she had left of her childhood in the country, and she was unable to resist hugging him to her chest.

Emmaline opened the wardrobe. “Miss, you have some gowns here.”

“They’re all from my childhood. I suppose they will need to be packed away.”

The girl reached for one of the dresses, but Bella moved to stop her.

“Let’s not worry about that tonight, Em. We can sort that out tomorrow. I’m tired.”

“Yes, miss.”

She moved the rest of her unopened packages to the nearby chair under the window while Emmaline turned back the bed. At least the room was clean and had fresh linens. She was grateful for that.

After helping her out of her gown and taking down her hair, she decided to sleep in her shift rather than unpack everything. Emmaline picked up her packages but paused at the door, a look of confusion on her face.

“Where do I sleep, my lady?”

“Oh, how thoughtless of me. I’ll show you.” Bella shoved back the blankets and rose.

“It’s all right. You can tell me where the servants’ rooms are. I can find my own way.” She gave her a smile.

“On the third floor right above me.”

She dipped a curtsy. “Good night.”

Emmaline juggled the packages and closed the door behind her, sealing Bella inside. She slipped back under the blankets, curling around the pillow. It wasn’t long before she was fast asleep.

Morning light filtered in through the lace curtains at the window. Normally, she would be awake before dawn. But this morning, after their long night, she slept in. With a yawn and a stretch, she rose, pushing back the blankets. Her stomach growled. She hoped there was breakfast. She rang for Emmaline to help her dress and as she released the bellpull, she heard the low whispering coming from behind her.

It was coming from the book.

Her heart rammed hard against her chest as she stepped to her dressing table and peered down at it. The whispering stopped. She opened the cover, the aged leather cracking. Then she flipped several pages, staring at the arcane language her translator brain refused to decipher.

A sharp, sudden chill slid down her spine. The air around her shifted—heavier, darker—as if the book exhaled something foul. Somethingwrong. It seeped from the pages, pressing against her chest like invisible hands. Her breath caught.

She slammed the book shut and stumbled back, heart pounding.

That wasn’t ink and parchment.

It was alive. Watching. Waiting.

Wicked.

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