“Wait,” Eva called.

I looked over my shoulder, unsure if I had heard her right. She gestured toward the little table by the window, motioning for me to sit. I guess I had.

“Tell me a story,” she said.

I blinked, still standing by the doorway holding the broom. “What?” I asked dumbly.

She rolled her eyes. “Sit.” I obeyed almost too eagerly, and she sat down across from me, her posture a hell of a lot better than my own. “Tell me a story.”

I sunk further into the plush fabric. “About what?”

Without hesitation, “You.”

I stared, and she stared back, her expression giving nothing away. “I--uh--what? I thought you didn’t like it when I talked?”

Her eyebrows quirked up. “Tell me a story, Ivy.”

My mouth hung open for a second, but I snapped it closed and forced myself to sit up. “I--alright. A story. About me.” 

I rubbed the back of my neck sheepishly. “I don’t know, Princess. My life wasn’t very interesting compared to yours. I guess I could tell you about the time my brother and I were racing and we spooked the cattle. Have you ever seen a cow jump a fence? It’s kind of surprising, really.”

Eva looked at me, and I shrunk under her unaffected gaze.

“No? Okay. There was that time I almost drowned in the river. Although I guess that happened a few times. Or when I went to a harvest party with a friend and my brother found out and came to rescue me from ‘those hungry bastard boys.’”

For a long moment, we just stared at each other. God, it was uncomfortable. On one hand, I liked that I had her attention, but on the other, I wasn’t sure I really wanted it.

“Why are you here?” she asked, finally looking away from me.

I released a breath I hadn’t realized I was holding. “In your library? I like how it smells.”

She shot me a look. “Aren’t you supposed to be in laundry?”

“Oh,” I said. “Yeah. The other maids didn’t want me there. Kicked me out.”

“Why?”

I shrugged. “They still think I’m crazy.” I wasn’t sure how to feel about this… whatever this was. Never in a million years did I think Eva would want to talk to me. It felt surreal, and part of me knew it couldn’t possibly mean anything good, but another part of me was desperate to be near her.

She looked back at me. “Yeah.” A long, awkward silence passed between us before she asked, “Why are you wearing trousers?”

I smiled. That was a much less awkward topic.. “Dresses are stupid; I can’t move in them. I never wore them as a kid, and I don’t really know how. I try to sneak around in pants when I can.” She shook her head, her hair falling to hide the expression on her face--if there was one. “I get in trouble for it a lot actually. You never noticed?”

She ignored my question altogether. Even with my enhanced hearing, I barely heard her whisper, “This is not the life you should be living.” Louder, she said, “What was it like? Living out there?”

I blinked again. She wasn't very good at hiding things. “If you want to go ‘out there,’ I can take you.” She gave me a disapproving look.

“I don’t want to go out there,” she shot back, seemingly offended.

“Sure you don’t,” I smirked. “Alright. Can’t really blame you; this place is a lot cleaner. Thanks to me.” I shifted in the chair, finding a comfortable position. My eyes drifted toward the decorative ceiling. 

I should probably take care of those cobwebs. “The world outside the walls isn’t as grand as your rich castle life, but I liked it for the most part. The wide open space, the fresh air…” I closed my eyes. I could almost feel the breeze on my skin. It had been so long since I'd been outside.

“I’d be lying if I said it felt like freedom, but it was the closest I’ll probably ever get to it.” I sat back up to smile at Eva. “Although I guess you know how it feels to be a prisoner. I can’t really complain.” I leaned back again, my smile dissolving into a soft frown. “I mean, aside from dying, I’m not the one who had it rough. My mom did.”

Eva sucked in a quiet breath. “Tell me about your mom,” she commanded.

My mouth opened on its own accord, spouting the exact words I wasn’t feeling: “Yeah, sure. Whatever you say, Princess.” 

I didn’t know if it was because she didn’t have a mom, or if she had suddenly taken an interest in me, or even if she was just bored out of her mind, but whatever her motive, I didn’t see the harm in telling her. I needed to talk about it anyway, and no one else was offering to listen. Maybe she was starting to see me as a more than just a monster.

Granted, I was still hyper aware of her pounding pulse, and I kept biting my lip to refrain from biting hers.

She probably shouldn't trust me.

“My mom,” I started. “She--uh--got married early, had her first kid at 17, another at 19, 22, and she had me a while later. I think. Maybe. Um. Anyway, her first three kids were boys, and I’m not sure if you knew about it, but when I was nine or so, some soldiers came to town. They were everywhere. Your dad, he ordered all eligible men age 13 to 40 to enlist in the army. Unofficially. I don't remember a lot, but I do remember there was screaming, and one of the soldiers set our barn on fire.”

I rolled my eyes at the look on her face. “You know, Princess, usually when someone tells you a story, you’re supposed to pretend to be interested.”

“I am,” she assured me, indifference written all over her face. “Continue.”

“Uh. Okay. So, my two oldest brothers went away. Never came back. It didn’t really affect me much since I was so young--I barely knew them--but my mom took it pretty hard. My dad did too, but he was just thankful to still have one of my brothers and me.

“My mom was upset with him for not going with their boys because of his bum leg. Told him he wasn’t a real man. They haven’t had a great relationship since. I’m pretty sure they stayed together because that’s what you’re supposed to do when you have kids.” I ran a hand through my hair, a nervous tick I had acquired over the years. “What about you? What happened to your mom?”

It was a lame attempt to get the attention off me, and I knew she wasn’t about to open up to me, but I was pleasantly surprised when she answered, “My mom’s dead.” It wasn’t much, but I was glad she told me.

“I’m sorry, Princess. That’s--”

“Why are you really here?”

I couldn’t honestly tell you what words came out of my mouth after that. I’m pretty sure I just stuttered for a minute until she repeated her question.

“What do you mean?” I asked. “I told you I’m here because I got kicked out of laundry.”

Somehow she managed to sit up even straighter. “I didn't mean why are you in my private library--although I do wish you would learn the definition of the word 'private'--I meant why are you here, in the castle, pretending to be a maid when you so clearly desire to return to the world that killed you?”

You should really be proud of me for not panicking and blurting out the truth. I know I am.

Instead I leaned my arms on the table and played with the woven cover, telling as much of the truth as I could. “I can’t go back. I want to, obviously, but only because of my family. My death really hurt them, and more than anything I want to go back there and show them that I’m alive and tell them that everything is okay, but it's not okay. I told you before: I’m not their little girl anymore. I’m not even sure I count as a living being. I miss them, but I already hurt them once and I can’t do it again.”

I didn’t have the gumption to look her in the eye, so I listened to her breathe, and the fluctuating beat of her heart. It was nice to know that she was nervous too. Although I suppose a large portion of her nerves could be accredited to the knowledge that she was sitting across from a vampire, not the intimacy of the moment.

“Ivy,” she mumbled. I almost choked at the sound of my name. If I had a heart, it would have been pounding harder than hers. “If there was any way for me to see my mom again, even if she was a monster or a ghost or some evil entity, I would want to see her again. And I didn’t even like my mom that much. She was kind of a bitch.” I almost smiled at that.

“I could be wrong, but I seemed to think that kind of foul language was unfit for a royal,” I teased. It was a bad joke, something I called her on all the time because the second a door closed, her entire vocabulary became unfit for the ears of children. But I needed to say something other than “but you don’t want to see me, and I'm not a bitch.” I had to sit there and remind myself over and over again that she didn’t care about me, and that there was no reason she should.

"So there was a rebellion," Eva said, casually, as if this was normal conversation between a human princess and her vampire maid.

I sucked in a quick breath before I could stop myself. "What? Everybody knows the king will kill them if they rebel."

Eva nodded, evidently a lot less affected by this than I was. "Yeah. He's going to go put a stop to it. Which basically means I'm in charge while he's gone."

My eyebrows came together in confusion. I had no idea where this was going.

"There will be a banquet--like a going away war party--and I'm going to need your help." She picked at her nails, as if this wasn't a horrible, potentially bloody situation.

"For what?" I asked hesitantly.

"I need you to show the people that they need to be loyal, and that bad things will happen if they aren't."