Chapter five

Diana

 

I stacked the last dish onto the drying rack and wiped my hands on my dress, exhaling loudly.

The room was finally clean...well, as clean as I could manage without scrubbing the floors until my fingers bled.

Save for my room, I have never done this before, so it's impossible to quantify what serves as 'clean'.

For a second, I just stood there, my arms limp at my sides.

What now?

I didn’t belong here. I didn’t know what I was supposed to do next.

My entire life, I had been ignored, hated, or simply tolerated in my father’s house, but I still had a place there, even if it was at the bottom of everyone’s regard.

Here, in this cold, eerie mansion with a man who could very well be my executioner, I had nothing.

No role, no expectations...nothing except the nagging fear that my existence was balancing on a knife’s edge...and that edge was this man's will.

The monster, the beast, whatever he was...hadn’t spoken since ordering me to clean.

He had barely even acknowledged my presence.

But now, as if finally noticing I was still there, he lifted his gaze from whatever document he had been scribbling on.

His forest eyes locked onto me, and for a moment, I forgot how to breathe.

"What are you still doing standing there?"

His voice was smooth but sharp, like a knife sliding against the stone.

I swallowed. "I...I don’t know what else to do."

His head tilted slightly, a flicker of amusement crossing his face. "You don’t know your place?"

I frowned. "No," I admitted. "I don’t understand what’s going on."

That was the truth.

I had been dragged here like livestock for slaughter.

I had spent the last few hours convinced I was going to be devoured.

Now, I was scrubbing dishes and standing before a man who looked more like a warlord than a beast.

Nothing made sense.

A sound rumbled from his throat, a low, dry, humorless chuckle.

"Oh, you will," he said. "Soon enough."

I tensed.

Then, as if what he had just said wasn’t terrifying, he waved a hand dismissively and said, "Now, get to cleaning the entire mansion."

I blinked.

My stomach dropped.

"The…the entire…mansion?"

I wasn’t sure I had heard him right.

He didn’t repeat himself.

He simply went back to his papers, leaving me to stand there, horrified, as Muzan stepped forward.

"This way," the butler said, leading me toward the grand double doors.

I followed on shaky legs, my mind screaming at the absurdity of it all.

I hadn’t seen much of the mansion before, but as Muzan led me deeper into its halls, I realized just how massive it was.

And how impossible this task would be.

The ceilings stretched so high it was dizzying, with dark, looming chandeliers that looked like they had never been dusted.

The stone floors stretched endlessly beneath my feet, reflecting the glow of candlelight from their polished surfaces. Room after room, corridor after corridor, this wasn’t just a house.

It was a labyrinth.

And I was expected to clean it?

Muzan finally stopped in front of a room and pushed the door open.

Inside was an expanse of dust-covered furniture, draped in heavy fabric. It smelled of old wood and time.

"This is where you start," he said.

I stared at him.

"You’re joking," I whispered.

His expression remained impassive. "You will work from here, down to the main hall, through the east wing, and..."

I tuned out the rest.

He had to be joking.

I was a princess.

Okay, a hated princess. A neglected princess.

But still...a princess!

I was used to doing things for myself...but that was about it. Save for my room, I haven't felt obligated to keep any other places clean.

And now I was supposed to scrub floors?

I clenched my jaw, swallowing the sharp burn of frustration that climbed my throat.

Fine.

If they wanted me to clean, I would clean. But I would not stay here and be their little housemaid forever.

My hands tightened into fists.

I needed to get out.

And fast.

I worked with my head down, pretending to focus while my mind mapped out possible escape routes.

The mansion was large, but I had already noticed things.

I had seen the way the windows on the second floor didn’t have bars, the way the main entrance had no guards, and the way the doors to the outer courtyards weren’t always locked.

I just needed the right moment.

That moment came faster than I expected.

As I was dusting near one of the massive windows, I noticed a smaller door in the hallway left slightly ajar.

An exit.

A real one.

I glanced around. Muzan was nowhere in sight. The house was eerily silent, the only sound the occasional echo of Muzan's distant footsteps.

This was it.

My chance.

I didn’t think. I moved.

Heart hammering, I darted toward the door, slipping through it as fast as I could.

The cool night air hit my face, and for the first time since I arrived, I felt a sliver of hope.

I ran.

I ran like my life depended on it.

Because it did.

The night was dark, the trees whooshing past me in a blur as I sprinted toward what I hoped were the outer gates.

My lungs burned, my legs screamed, but I didn’t stop.

Freedom. I could taste it.

Then, came something chilling.

A sound.

It was deep, low...predatory.

I didn’t dare turn around.

I didn’t need to.

I knew.

The monster was coming, and he was coming fast. How he had found out so quickly that I had escaped was beyond me.

But it didn't matter.

If he was a werewolf too, then I was done for. But I had to keep running.

Panic surged through me, but I pushed forward, my breath coming in ragged gasps.

Faster. Faster.

Branches snapped behind me. The ground trembled slightly.

A gust of wind, strong as a storm, rushed past me.

I barely had time to react before something slammed into my path.

I skidded to a stop, nearly falling backward as my eyes snapped up.

He stood there, blocking my escape, his broad frame rigid, his eyes dark as the creeping forest behind him, like he was one with it.

He hadn’t just chased me.

He had hunted me.

And he had caught me.