Glory scrubbed the entrance way floor and the stairs up to Mistress Vixiona’s room as quietly as she could.  She didn’t want to disturb her Mistress, not when it had been peaceful for so long. The great hall stank, even though she'd scrubbed it from top to bottom, she hadn't been brave enough to venture down the stairs towards the Necromancer's Laboratory. Glory swallowed, walking past the stairs to the scullery.

The dresses had long since dried but Mistress Vixiona’s door had remained shut. The scullery door had stayed open so the dresses waiting for her return still smelled of the cool night breeze.

Since the last night the lights had shone across the hills Glorybelle had gone to the broken gate to listen for a whisper of distant music. But the music had not returned and the only lights that shone in the night were the stars and a sliver of an icy moon. Up in the tower the crown of flowers rested on the windowsill, the petals had browned and the stems were black, but it was still there.

Glory poured the bucket of dirty water into one of the sinks in the dark scullery.  The breeze that blew in from the night plastered the folds of her wet gown against her legs. She padded from the scullery to the broken gate. Her cold hands curled around the colder iron of the gate. It hurt but she didn't mind. It was something to feel. She waited, with only the wind rattling the slowly yellowing leaves to break the silence.

When morning came again and the wind raced away from the sun Glorybelle turned back to the castle. She took her broom and wandered, sweeping here and there where it was needed. The silence of the castle made her shoulders tighten with every passing moment. Finally she found herself drawing water to scrub the floor simply to hear the sounds of the pump and water. 

Standing in the entry hall with the scrub brush and soapy water Glorybelle’s head swivelled around as she chose where to begin. Her eyes fell on the stone steps that circled down to the black door beneath the keep. She walked to the lip of the first step, her toes curling over it as she regarded the huge stinking black stain spread across the steps. A smeared handprint was on the second step, five faint white scratches on the stone around it. And that was where Glorybelle began to scrub.