Not long after Madam Poshlyn left, a stocky stone-faced guard walked in, face impassive. He crooked his finger, motioning me forward 

"Follow me." He barked out, stepping back into the hallway. 

I sighed and walked across the room, as he impatiently tapped his foot. The rhythmic thumping echoed around the room, sounding eerily similar to a heart beat. 

I wonder where they're taking me. The shack again perhaps?

Once I reached him, the guard turned around and began to walk rapidly down the hallway. I trailed behind him, matching his ridiculous speed as best I could. When we reached the end of the hallway, instead of going the direction toward the back of the building, he ascended the stairs. 

I guess not. I shrugged, following him up – feet slapping against the stone stairs. Unlike the other guards, he never glanced back at me as we made our way up to the top floor. Maids peeked over at me, muttering rather than giggling. I couldn't make out what they were saying, but when I looked at them – they quickly glanced away.

We breezed past them, stopping before a weathered wooden door. The guard tugged it open, causing it to squeak loudly. 

"Get inside." He grunted. 

Beyond the door a rickety set of stairs led up into an impossibly dark attic. "Can I get an actual room instead?" I asked. I'm getting sick of being put into dark rooms. 

He didn't react to my words at all. He only blinked slowly, waiting for me to enter. 

"I guess that's a no." I mumbled, stepping inside.

The moment I cleared the door, the guard closed it with a flick of his wrist – locking it behind him. 

I walked up the stairs slowly, to give my eyes time to adjust. The steps groaned with the slightest pressure. The higher I ascended, the dustier the air became – which, unsurprisingly, made me sneeze. 

God, I already hate this place. I sniffled as I reached the top. In the darkness, a faint pinpoint light flickered down from the ceiling – offering the bare minimum of light. Several objects, of different shapes and sizes, lay along the floor. Most of the items were covered by a cloth of some sort.

I walked toward the light and tilted my head up – seeing the bright blue sky. A thought about finding something to stab at the hole and create an opening passed through my mind, but I shook my head. While good in theory, it wasn't in practice. I was above the fourth floor with no way to get down. 

If only I could fly like that useless sprite. I let out a breath and walked to the corner, sitting down and contemplating my options – or lack thereof. My mind swirled with what had happened so far and what was going to come. For hours I sat lost in thought, watching daylight begin to fade away. 

At some point, I nodded off to sleep – only to be woken by the sound of the door squeaking open. Groggy, I rubbed my eyes and watched the flicker of a candle's light coming up the stairs. Was it dinner? My stomach grumbled at the thought, but I knew not to get my hopes up.

"Lady Kyla?" A tentative voice asked when they reached the top.

I pushed off the ground, yawning. "Who else would it be?"

"I brought you dinner." She walked over, setting down the candle on top of a box. 

Oh. I realized when the light washed across her face. It's the maid from earlier. Why is she here?

"If it's sludge again, you can take it back to the kitchen." 

"It's not." The maid shifted something in her arms, handing me a covered picnic basket. 

I took it from her and pulled back the white cloth. The smell of fresh bread and chicken wafted out, making my mouth water. My stomach demanded I inhale it, but my higher reasoning kicked into overtime.

This is suspicious. Extremely so. 

Ever since coming to this world, I'd been served nothing but rotten food. While it looked appetizing, it could have been poisoned. Annette's earlier threat about feeding me feces rang through my head again.

"What's the catch?" I asked, tearing my eyes from the food. 

"What do you mean?" She asked, pulling out a small canteen from her pocket. 

"Is it laced with anything?" 

"What?" Her eyes widened in shock. "Of course not. Here." She held out the canteen. 

When I didn't take it, she sighed. "It's not poisoned." She uncapped it and took a small drink. "Neither is the food." She took a step forward, broke off a piece of bread and chicken and popped it into her mouth. "I value my job, my lady. I wouldn't serve something that could harm you."

"And why should I trust you?" I grabbed the canteen from her hand and set the basket down on a box. 

"I'm not asking you to trust me." She shrugged, walking back toward the stairs, leaving the flickering candle behind. "I just…am doing my job like I'm supposed to." 

Was she though? I watched her wordlessly start to descend. No one, even if it's their job, ever offers kindness without a price. 

"Wait a moment." I called before she faded from view. 

"Yes. my lady?" She paused, glancing over her shoulder.

"What's your name?" 

"Alora." She smiled, but it didn't reach her eyes. "Please enjoy your meal. I will return tomorrow." 

I bit back a thank you that wanted to slip out. Nobility doesn't thank maids. I picked the basket back up, and sat down – tossing the fabric aside. 

I dug in quickly, forcing myself to eat slowly to ensure my stomach didn't pitch a revolt. The food tasted especially good, but that could have been because I was starved. Despite my best efforts to eat slowly, the food was gone in a matter of minutes. 

For the next few hours, I stayed awake expecting to start convulsing or projectile vomiting, but nothing happened. 

Alora was telling the truth. I thought, feeling my eyes grow heavy. But would she actually come back tomorrow? 

The last thing I saw before falling asleep was the last flicker of the dying candle.