Beatrice stared at the open doorway for a few moments, seeing the place Vladislav had last stood.

She turned her head slowly away, tilting it to the side.

Beatrice looked to the room she was in, seeing it properly for the first time. It was a small room, directly opposite her, was a set of doors, with 15-panes on each door, and painted white.

Just beyond could be seen a small patio, the only thing upon this small space, was a metal wheelbarrow. The tray was painted yellow, and the legs and handles were red, though was rusted and faded in places. Within the tray, grew several sorts of plants. Beatrice could not identify them, but she could tell, though she knew nothing of plants of any sort, that they were of different kinds. Some of them grew tall, others spilled over the edge of the tray.

She could see as she continued to observe at the edges of the small patio, were smaller bushes, dotted with colourful flowers, like that which grew within the wheelbarrow. There were yellows and reds and purples and pinks.

Beatrice realised then, as her attention drifted back into the room where she sat, the abundance of plant-life here also. Like the outside, these were all of varying sorts. Some with flowers, others with only leaves of different shapes, tall and thin or wide, some rounded. There was even a shelf of what looked like fully grown trees, though they were miniature in size. Beatrice did not know this, but these were Bonsai trees, their growing and care was considered to be an artform. They came from distant lands, and the special techniques to grow them began hundreds of years ago.

Beatrice also noticed a narrow mirror hanging upon the wall, reflecting back the rest of the room. Beatrice could not see herself in the reflection from the angle at which she sat, but she could see, that something about the rooms reflection seemed off. She didn’t know what it was. There was nothing sinister about it, it just gave her a strange feeling. And so she rose to her feet, approaching the mirror.

She touched the glossy surface, a slow realisation dawning on her as she drew closer.

It was a painting. It wasn’t a mirror at all, but an incredibly realistic painting of the room in which it resided.

‘Did he do this?’ Beatrice uttered to herself, straightening and glancing over her shoulder.

She took in the room once more, standing at this new perspective.

It was a comfortable room, a place that felt safe and homely, despite being unfamiliar.

Perhaps Beatrice had already began to feel like she was settling in at this place, despite being here for only a short time. Maybe it was that, or maybe it was being shown true kindness, being treated with tenderness, being allowed to sleep on a soft surface with a warm blanket. Being given food, good food, for a second time once the first she was given made her sick.

If she had rejected food like that where she had come from, she would be made to go hungry.

Beatrice drifted away, heading towards the hallway, stepping into it. Here she saw the doorway where she had entered this home, where the doe had entered the home, so casually, before wandering out again.

Beatrice found it strange that the door had been left open all this time, and wondered if she should close it, though decided against it in the end. She didn’t want to change anything in the home that she felt was not her place to change.

Beatrice headed upstairs, the stairs was easy to find, being visible from the front door.

When she reached the top step, Beatrice paused, looking around. It was more spacious up here than on the ground floor, the walls and floor made from dark wood. Emarald-green carpets muffled Beatrice’s footsteps as she ventured forward.

She heard the sound of water nearby, just in the other room. It sounded like water being disturbed, like a hand moving through a body of water.

She stepped into the room, and saw a bath there. It was a wooden tub, and filled nearly to the top. The surface was bubbly. None of the water could be seen. The room in which the tub sat, had stone floors, but was kept warm by the sunlight that shone through the large windows. But the glass was warped, so the light could penetrate through, but nothing could be seen inside or out. Only vague shapes and colours.

The rest of the room was bare. There was a plain wooden cupboard against one wall, a tiny keyhole could be seen in the door, but the door was left ajar. From where Beatrice stood, she thought she could see what looked like white towels piled up inside.

The only other thing she could see within the room, was a little bundle on the floor near the tub. Beatrice approached it, kneeling and touching it.

On top was a white towel. She was struck by how soft it felt.

Beneath this, was something else. Beatrice lifted it up, looking over it briefly.

‘I suppose’ she mumbled to herself under her breath, ‘that this is what I am expected to wear once I am clean.’

She rose to her feet again, turning towards the door.

Beatrice noticed there was no lock on it, instead she just pushed it closed, before moving back towards the tub.

Beatrice lifted her hands, slipping the dress down her shoulders and lowering it to the floor, before stepping out of it. She climbed into the tub. The water was comfortably warm, and felt so good against her skin.

She let out a sign, leaning back against the edge, allowing her body to relax.

It felt so good. Incredible.

Beatrice took a little handful of bubbles, putting it on her nose, before blowing it away, purely for amusement and fun, and nothing else.

There was a little wooden box hanging off the edge of the tub, held up by two curved hooks. Inside was a body brush, its bristles were soft.

Beatrice reached for it, running her fingers over the brushes, before beginning to clean herself, starting with beneath her nails. She had not realised how dirty she was until she stopped and took a closer look.

Beatrice sat up, her naked shoulders and breasts now above the water. She reached behind her awkwardly, trying to clean the centre of her back. She paused, seeing upon the wall above her head, another body brush, this one with a longer handle.

Beatrice reached for it, and began to clean her back. It felt good, and she scratched her skin away, making herself pink.

She froze when she heard sounds then, gentle thuds that sounded like footsteps.

Beatrice dropped both brushes, shrinking back beneath the water, hiding herself under the bubbles.

She looked around. The door opened, pushed gently inwards, and a figure, the tall figure of Vladislav entered.

He walked near the tub, pausing.

Beatrice stared up at him with large eyes. Vladislav stood frozen, facing ahead of him as he stood with his side to the tub. Then he leant down, patting the floor at his feet.

Beatrice realised he couldn’t see, and as Vladislav shifted to the side slightly, she saw that within the socket of his eye, there was no light.

Curiously, Beatrice leaned forwards, tilting her head.

She glimpsed his other eye, and saw there was a light there.

Vladislav noticed her, turning his head away.

‘Excuse me’ he mumbled, continuing to pat the floor. ‘I hate mess. I feel the need to clean. Ah!’ he found what he was looking for, which was Beatrice’s old dress. ‘There it is. I shall throw this away. I’m sorry to bother you. I shall leave now’ he said, rising to his feet, and turning his body away from her, showing only his back.

‘What happened to your eye?’ Beatrice asked him.

‘M-my eye?’

‘Only one is glowing’ Beatrice said.

Vladislav turned his head towards her then, and Beatrice could see both his eye sockets.

They were empty.

‘You’re closing your eyes.’

Vladislav turned away.

‘I will be downstairs’ Vladislav said to her, ‘working on something. Please excuse any noise you may hear; I will try to be as quiet as I can.’

Beatrice blinked curiously at him, and he left the room, pulling the door shut behind him.

Beatrice sat back in the tub, pondering to herself the curiousness of her situation.

She fumbled around the tub, searching for the brushes she had dropped.

Finding them, she continued to wash until she felt clean. 

[END OF CHAPTER 3]