Abruptly awakening, Celeste’s eyes dart around her dark room. For a moment, she’s disoriented, unsure as to what first disturbed her from her sleep. 

She soon discerns that the reasons are neither the cold air entering her room nor the fact that her window is now in pieces, decorating the floor of her bed chambers. It was not caused by the masked man who is currently standing at the foot of her bed either, given that he has not made a single sound since she has come to detect his presence.

Her first instinct is denial. She refuses to believe what she sees and wonders if she is simply having a nightmare. A truly violent, terrible one.   

Another piercing scream from somewhere in the manor breaks her from her frightened daze and reminds her that this is her reality. Several noises that she does not have the mind to differentiate are muddled together. But she could not be mistaken about the scream as it had to have belonged to her mother.

What of her brother?

Her father?

Have they also awoken to find this terrifying sight before them? What has become of them? That thought alone is enough to paralyze her.

“Who are you?” Her voice comes out in a strangled whisper.

Still, the intruder says nothing.

Her eyes fleetingly fixate on his reflecting sword in his hand before returning back to his eyes. He makes no movements to move closer and her heart drums in her ears.

Celeste isn’t calm enough to search for an escape route, but her body moves on its own. She stumbles out of bed once he rushes forward. Her hands search around, clumsily hoping to take hold of something. That something becomes a vase that she flings in his direction. Having to avoid it, it slows him down in the process and earns her some time.

She manages to escape him far enough to reach the door. The exact moment she opens it to enter the hallway, a rough grab of her arm has her legs weakening and she falls to the floor with a grunt. He picks her up by the throat and she scratches at his hand and kicks at his abdomen, yet his grip never loosens. The amount of fight in her does little to be a problem for the intruder and he easily aims his sword at her, willing it to pierce right through her body.

She shuts her eyes and places her hands out to stop the attack, but it never gets to land. Instead, she falls to the ground with a thud just as a rush of air enters her lungs. In a fit of coughing, she does not notice the slumped body beside her or the presence of another person. She only shifts away after the sensation of a wet, icky substance touches her hands. 

She looks up. “Your Grace?”

“Lady Celeste, can you stand on your feet?”

She should have felt relief at the duke's appearance, but her mind is elsewhere.

“May I help you–,” 

Her shaky hands reach for his urgently. “Why are you here? You should have gone to my brother or my parents instead.”

Who are the intruders here for? Just the members of the Lane family or will they not discriminate and go after the staff of this manor as well?

Will Anne be harmed?

“Bart should be with your brother and have you forgotten that your father is also a trained swordsman?”

Her eyes nervously meet his composed ones. “Have you confirmed their safety yourself?”

“I have verified your brother’s.”

“But not my parents.”

His lack of an answer is an answer within itself.   

Celeste turns away, but his hold on her hand tightens to prevent her from leaving. Unable to release herself, she demands, “Let go of my hand.”

“You are not prepared for the sight that lies ahead of you.”

She wouldn’t allow that to be an excuse to not go searching for the rest of her family. “It does not matter.”

Duke Ellis still hesitates. “What if there are still intruders left? What will you do then?”

“Then, bring me to my mother and father,” she pleas.

Ultimately, he must have understood her desperation because he reluctantly takes her along with him. “You must stay with me.”

As if he did not trust her to do as he says, he holds onto her hand the entire way. As they turn round the next corner, her nose is hit with a strong odor.

“Look straight ahead.”

Doing as he ordered, she stares straight at his back until they eventually reach the front courtyard. At the entrance is where her parents sat– with her mother tending to her father’s new injuries. She drops the duke’s hand and runs to them. Sinking to her knees, she takes in her mother’s shaking frame by wrapping her arms around her. Only after her own confirmation of her parents’ well-being, did she finally take notice of the new company in the manor– the duke's knights.  

Next, she looks out to find bloodied bodies strewn all across the courtyard. Her mother hurriedly takes hold of Celeste’s face in her hands and pulls it closer to her own.

“Do not look, darling.” 

The ducal knights, who had been busy observing their surroundings, swiftly straighten up to greet the duke.

“I am relieved that we arrived on time, Count Lane.” 

Her mother composes herself enough to voice her appreciation. “We cannot thank you enough, Your Grace.”

Her father steals a quick glance. “Are you injured?”

“I am not harmed in any way.”

Celeste looks between the two men. This appeared too organized on both the intruders’ and the duke's part. Not only did he seem dressed for a battle, but he had also brought his own knights from the dukedom. Had they been expecting something like this to arise?

“And how is my son?” 

“Bart is with him, ensuring his safety. How heavy are your wounds?”

Her father winces as her mother holds pressure to the deepest cut on his chest. “A few cuts are nothing to whine about.” As her father dismisses his own injuries, he notices hers. “Celeste–,”

Before her mother’s panic can reach a new height, she quickly affirms, “The blood does not belong to me.” She looks down at her once white sleeping gown now partially stained heavily red.

Her mother gently touches Celeste’s neck and Celeste finally takes notice of the pain that she had ignored from before.

“It is not too painful, mother,” she reassures her.  

Celeste is reminded that she had gotten off quite easy when she considers what that intruder had intended to do to her.

“Were they familiar faces to you, Your Grace?” her father asks.

“They were.”

A sigh comes from her father in response and it does not sound like it is out of relief.  

Their attention is suddenly directed elsewhere. Feet rushing up the steps soon reveal themselves belonging to a knight. “Your Grace.”

“What have you found?” 

“Counting those in the courtyard, Count Lane’s study, and in front of the young lord’s room, sixteen were found deceased. One was allowed to escape, per your orders.”

“Seventeen– including the one I had slain in front of Lady’s Celeste’s chambers,” the duke adds.

Celeste clenches her hands on her lap. She could only now wrap her mind around the tragedy and devastation that could have occurred tonight. They, the individuals’ whose identities she has yet to learn, have truly intended to eliminate House Lane.

She becomes sick at the thought.

She had merely gone to bed the night before worrying about trivial matters while others were conspiring this attack. She wanted to laugh at her own foolishness. Everything she has concerned herself with up until this point was small, inconsequential.

Her mother reaches out to comfort Celeste by placing her hand atop hers. Grateful for the simple act, Celeste returns to the troubles at hand. 

“We need to get back to Theo,” her mother interjects. “There are still many in this manor who need to be accounted for as well.”

In that moment, the horrific night slowly comes to an end as the morning sun slowly makes its ascent in the sky.

A new day approaches.

“I will send for a physician,” Celeste says while her mother nods in agreement.

Before Celeste can take another step back inside the manor, the duke gently moves into her path. 

Given the situation, she had not been the most polite. Besides gratitude, what else can she say? The duke must have mistook her discomfort as feeling cold and he kindly removes his cloak to wrap around her shoulders.

"We did the best we could, Your Grace," his knight appears from behind to inform him. 

"The manor should be a little more presentable now."

She bows, accepting his show of consideration and moves forward. 

Entering with some hesitation, Celeste finds that the bodies were already taken care of. Some of the rugs and furniture were missing, but Celeste thinks it is for a good reason that they were. Questionable stains on the walls and floors are quickly being cleaned by the servants. None of it really helps to erase the events of last night as she finds that the bloody stench still lingers in the air.