At exactly 5:59 pm Aurélie stood in front of the doors to the library, her hand raised to knock on the beautifully carved double doors. She was dressed in her Dubois uniform, her hair in a tight updo once more. Opening the door after knocking sharply twice, Aurélie was met with Étienne, who had one hand on the door handle on his side of the room. 

“There you are,” he said simply, letting the handle go and stepping back. “The letters are on the table. I have already started writing.”

Aurélie nodded and stepped into the library, noticing the stack of papers on the desk behind him. She had barely spent any time in the library since her arrival. She marvelled at how many books there were in the Saint-Clair collection. Shelves reaching the ceiling made up the walls, a bar with a ladder placed on each shelf. The room itself was large and decorated for comfort. A fireplace was lit at the back wall, several small armchairs neatly arranged in a semi-circle in front of the hearth. Several armchairs were in front of the tall and slender windows, navy curtains with gold trimming matching the chairs. As Aurélie looked around she wondered how many books were in the library, already beginning to count. 

“Well don’t just stand there. We have a lot to get through,” Étienne said, snapping her out of her curiosity. He had sat down at the table, quill tapping softly on the pages as he began to write. 

Aurélie walked quietly to the opposite end of the table, sitting down on one of the wooden chairs. Without saying a word or looking up from his work, Étienne pushed several stacks of parchment in her direction. Picking up the first piece, Aurélie quickly read through the letter that was addressed to Duke Delacroix. It was a formal letter thanking him for attending the previous night’s dinner. As she picked up and read through the letter bellow, she noticed that there were similar letters to each of the two visiting dukes, as well as Oliver and the other guests. Étienne’s penmanship was surprisingly neat, despite the speed at which he was writing the letters. As Aurélie read through his letters she was not surprised that each one was copied word for word, not a hint of personal touch behind any of them. She quickly corrected them depending on who they were addressed to, stopping Étienne from writing the same thing and making sure that he implemented the corrections before wasting any more parchment. 

The evening went by quietly, no one entering the library to interrupt Aurélie and Étienne. Hours went by before Aurélie felt a familiar ache in her stomach, nausea washing over her. She looked down at the last letter in front of her, quickly editing it and handing it back to Étienne. 

“This is the last one,” she announced, brushing a loose strand that had fallen from her updo out of her face. 

Étienne nodded in thanks, still not looking up from his work. Minutes passed and Aurélie soon began to feel uncomfortable. It was not too long before Étienne looked up at her, a hint of annoyance across his face. 

“Have you not eaten today? Your stomach sounds like a foghorn.”

Aurelie’s cheeks began to redden as she clutched the front of her bodice. “I apologise.” 

Étienne sighed before looking at the grandfather clock that was standing next to one of the smaller bookshelves. “I suppose you can’t wait for another two hours?” 

“I do feel quite faint but I may be able to wait,” Aurélie replied, breathing deeply. 

Étienne watched as her face became paler and paler, before he stood up and sighed. “Follow me.”

Aurélie watched as he walked over to the double doors, opening them and waiting for her. Wordlessly she followed him as he began leading her down to the kitchens. The staff was quite busy around the chateau, suitcases and bags lined up neatly in the main hall. Several of guests that had been at the dinner were also standing around, conversing with one another and giving Étienne and Aurélie a polite smile and nod of the head. Étienne ignored them, continuing his brisk pace towards the kitchens. 

Pierre was cheerfully humming to himself as he firmly knead dough. He looked up from his work as soon as Étienne walked in, freezing up as he noticed the young man. 

“Étienne!” he cried out after a while, throwing his hands up and creating a cloud of flour. “You finally have come to visit me!” 

“I am here to make sure that the companion does not faint while she is performing her duties,” Étienne said plainly, leaning himself against the door frame and pointing behind him towards Aurélie. 

Pierre looked at Aurélie and clicked his tongue, rushing over to her and pulling her inside. “My poor girl. I was wondering when you would request something. I do hope you are not trying to starve yourself,” he said, looking at her sternly. 

Aurélie smiled. “Of course not, Pierre. I simply woke up a little later and did not have time to eat anything since the previous evening.”

“Well then let us hurry!” Pierre exclaimed, rushing around the kitchen. In no time Aurélie found herself seated at the small table near the window, enjoying a simple dish. Étienne was still leaning against the doorframe, observing her. Pierre had resumed his baking, occasionally attempting small talk with Étienne, who gave him short answers as replies. 

After another one-worded answer Pierre threw his hands up once more, sighing. “Oh what have I done to deserve this, Étienne? You visit me after weeks yet barely talk to me.”

Étienne sighed, standing to his full height and sitting down across from Aurélie. “I do not have much to say.”

“You used to talk my ears off before you turned. Did becoming a full-fledged vampire remove your tongue?” Pierre asked, pointing a wooden spoon at him.

Shaking his head, Étienne began to rock the chair back. Aurélie watched him, already envisioning him falling backwards. To her surprise, Étienne kept his balance and continued to watch her eat her meal. She felt slightly uncomfortable and self conscious about her eating habits, trying her hardest not to chew too loudly. She hurriedly finished her meal, thankful as soon as Étienne looked away. 

“Were there more letters you needed me to look at?” she asked, gently placing her napkin down on the table. 

“Not really.”

“Is there anything else that I can help you with?” She regretted it immediately, seeing the smirk on Étienne’s face before it turned neutral again. 

“Distract me from having to see Duke Delacroix off?” 

Aurélie looked up at him in surprise. “I thought you would be delighted in his departure?”

“Of course I am. I would rather he just leave without being seen off. Unfortunately, it is a formality.” 

Aurélie nodded. It would be seen as rude if Étienne, the son of the Duke Saint-Clair was not present for arrivals or departures of esteemed guests. She could not blame him for not wanting to see the Duke off. She herself did not want to be present for his departure either, shame washing over her as she replayed the events of the previous evening. No doubt the Duke was furious with her for talking back to him in such a disrespectful manner. 

“I supposed I will have to accompany you then?” Aurélie asked after a while. 

“I would rather you not.”

“Ah but she will. Your father will not be pleased if she is not present by your side,” Pierre said, wiping his hands clean with a cloth and standing in front of the pair. “I suggest you hurry along. The Duke will be departing soon, as I am sure you are well aware.”

“Here I was trying to hide in your beautiful kitchen,” Étienne said, a mischievous glimmer in his eyes. Pierre did not fold, ushering Aurélie and Étienne out. “You will not try and use your flattery to get out of your duties, young master. Best get it over and done with.”

“I suppose you are right,” Étienne quietly muttered. 

Once Aurélie and Étienne were out of the kitchen they made their way to the front hall. Duke Saint-Clair and Delacroix were standing in front of the open doors, conversing quietly. Aurélie felt herself grow increasingly nervous as they approached both Dukes. An arm linking with hers made her turn towards Étienne, who had his eyes fixated on Delacroix. 

“Let us get this over with as quickly as possible. No need for him to linger any further,” he whispered, guiding them to the Dukes. 

Both Saint-Clair and Delacroix turned to Étienne and his companion as they approached. Delacroix immediately focused his gaze on Aurélie, a hint of repulse on his face. 

“Duke Delacroix, leaving so soon?” Étienne asked. 

His hint of sarcasm could not be missed. 

Delacroix bowed his head. “Yes. Unfortunately I am needed back in Hungary. I cannot abandon my people for too long while we are getting nowhere with discussions.”

Saint-Clair shot the Duke a disapproving look. “I wish you a pleasant journey then, Gustave.”

Delacroix nodded in thanks. Several chateau staff walked past him, carrying bags out of the estate and to the carriage that was waiting at the bottom of the staircase. It was pitch black outside, lanterns dimly lighting up a path down the stairs. 

“I will be hosting a ball at my castle in a few weeks. A formal invitation will be sent to the Saint-Clair estate. I hope that you and your son will visit, along with his companion.” Delacroix nodded towards Aurélie. 

Étienne bowed his head. “We would be delighted to visit, your grace.”

“Good. Celine has missed you terribly.”

Aurélie felt Étienne’s arm tense up immediately. She looked up at him, noticing a dark expression cross his face. Before looking back up to the Duke he composed himself, forcing a smile. 

“Of course. We accept your invitation,” Saint-Clair answered, turning towards Delacroix. The two of them exchanged formalities before Delacroix turned away from the group, making his way down the stairs. Saint-Clair followed him to his carriage, where the two continued their conversation. Étienne was still tensed up, watching Delacroix carefully. As soon as he had stepped into the carriage Étienne pulled his arm away from Aurélie, spinning on his heals and hastily making his way up the stairs at the end of the hall. Aurélie watched him in confusion, picking up her skirts and following him. She silently cursed at his pace, wishing he would slow down. She found him back at the library, seated in one of the armchairs in front of the fireplace. Clearing her throat she stood behind him.

“I suppose you will not indulge me as to why you keep on losing your composure whenever Duke Delacroix mentions his daughter?”

“I do not lose my composure,” Étienne snapped, his gaze fixed on the fire. 

Aurélie chuckled. “Of course not. The plate that you broke when placing down your fork after hearing about the Duke’s daughter last night was merely a coincidence.”

Étienne turned around in his seat, his expression dark. “I do not want you to mention her again. She is not someone that you need to concern yourself with.”

Aurélie stared back at him, surprised, before bowing her head. “As you wish.”

Étienne let out a deep sigh before he turned back to the fire. A few minutes passed in silence, before he spoke again. “I do not need your help for the rest of the evening. You may return to your quarters.”

“Fine,” Aurélie said, turning around and making her way out of the library. Étienne turned around and watched her, scratching the back of his head. He balled his hand into a fist when she closed the door behind her, his shoulders dropping. He stood up from his chair and walked over to the letters that he and his companion had worked on earlier, picking one up that Aurélie had edited. Her handwriting was neat, neater than his, each word written perfectly. Not a single letter was out of place or a different size from the other. As he read the letter he noticed that it was one of the ones addressed to Duke Delacroix. Étienne scrunched up the parchment immediately, walking over to the fire and throwing the letter into the flames. He watched as flames flickered, reducing the paper to ash. Étienne felt his anger grow as he thought back to the Duke’s invitation. 

He did not want to bring Aurélie to a place like Duke Delacroix’s castle, especially if Celine was there waiting for them.