A House of Secrets

Lily stirred awake, sunlight filtering through the heavy drapes and painting golden stripes across the luxurious bed. Memories of the previous night flooded back – the fear, the hunger, the strange feeling of safety Niklaus had offered. A blush crept up her cheeks, a reaction that both confused and excited her.

She stretched languidly, a stark contrast to the stiff, uncomfortable posture she was used to waking up in at her old home. A pang of loneliness struck her as she realized Niklaus wasn't beside her. His imposing presence, despite its coldness, had offered a strange sense of security in the vastness of the room.

She sat up, noticing the untouched food tray on the nightstand. Her stomach rumbled in protest, reminding her of the delicious stew Niklaus had fed her. Feeling a newfound strength, she swung her legs over the edge of the bed, surprised by the absence of the bone-chilling cold that usually greeted her mornings.

As she stood up, the door creaked open and a familiar figure slipped into the room. It was Mary, the kind-faced cook from the kitchen who had been mysteriously "indisposed" for the past day. Mary's face lit up with a smile that could rival the morning sun.

"Oh, Miss Lily!" she exclaimed, rushing towards the girl and engulfing her in a warm hug. "Thank goodness you're awake! I was so worried about you." Her voice trembled with a genuine concern that warmed Lily's heart.

Lily, touched by the woman's affection, hugged her back tightly. Mary was the only person in Volkov Manor who had shown her any kindness since her arrival. "I'm alright, Mary," she mumbled shyly, "Just a bit tired."

Mary pulled back, her eyes searching Lily's face. "That wretched Lady Grace and her temper," she muttered, her voice laced with anger. "I knew she'd cause trouble."

Lily's blush deepened. She stammered, "It's... it's not her fault. I just… I couldn't eat anything yesterday."

Mary's gaze softened. She reached out and gently tucked a stray strand of hair behind Lily's ear. "Tell me everything, child. What happened with Master Niklaus?"

Lily, hesitant at first, found herself pouring out the events of the previous night. She spoke of the hunger, the fear, Niklaus's unexpected gentleness, and the strange sense of protection he had offered. Mary listened intently, her brow furrowed in worry.

Once Lily finished, she squeezed Mary's hand. "But I'm alright now," she said, her voice gaining a note of confidence. "I feel much better. And Master Niklaus… he seemed to take care of everything."

Mary's smile faltered for a brief moment, a flicker of something akin to skepticism crossing her face. She quickly recovered, though, and her smile returned, albeit a little strained. "Indeed," she said, her voice a touch too bright. "Master Niklaus is a… complex man. But he wouldn't let anything bad happen to you, I'm sure."

Lily noticed Mary subconsciously pull her shawl tighter around her neck, seemingly hiding something. A shadow of suspicion flickered within her, but it was quickly overshadowed by her trust in the kind cook. "Are you feeling alright, Mary?" Lily asked, her concern genuine. "You haven't looked well."

Mary forced a laugh, the sound a little hollow. "Just a touch of the summer cold, dear," she said, her eyes flitting away. "But don't you worry about me. You just rest and get your strength back. There's plenty of work to be done around here, and I know you're a hard worker."

Lily felt a pang of disappointment. She longed to confide in Mary further, to understand what was happening around her. But Mary's evasive behavior only deepened the mystery surrounding Volkov Manor and its enigmatic inhabitants.

With a sigh, Lily nodded. There was much she didn't understand, but for now, she had a roof over her head, a warm bed to sleep in, and a newfound confidence fueled by the strange encounter with the cold, yet strangely comforting, Master of Volkov Manor.

"Now, now," Mary said, patting Lily's hand reassuringly. "Don't you fret about all that. You haven't eaten a proper meal in a day, and that won't do. Come downstairs and have some breakfast. I whipped up something special just for you." She winked conspiratorially. "What's your favorite, dear? Sweet or savory?"

Lily, her worries momentarily forgotten, blushed at the attention. "I… I like anything with fresh flowers," she admitted shyly. "Flowers always made our meals feel special at home."

A bittersweet smile touched Mary's lips. "Flowers it is, then," she declared briskly. "Let's go and see what I can conjure up."

Lily followed Mary out of the room, a small flicker of hope warming her chest. Downstairs, the grand hall looked like a warzone, albeit a slightly tidier one. Grace, her face stained with sweat and exhaustion, was furiously scrubbing a section of the floor. The sight of Lily, bathed in the morning light and looking surprisingly composed, made Grace's blood run cold.

She stopped cleaning abruptly, her eyes narrowing into venomous slits. With a dramatic flourish, she threw the cleaning rag to the floor. "There you are," she hissed, striding towards Lily with a predatory grace.

Mary, sensing the danger, instinctively stepped in front of Lily, putting a protective hand on her shoulder. "Lady Grace," she said, her voice surprisingly firm, "Miss Lily is just on her way to breakfast."

Grace ignored Mary, her gaze fixed on Lily like a viper eyeing its prey. "You," she spat, stopping inches away from the girl. "You are the reason for all this!" Her voice rose to a shriek. "You are the reason this entire manor is a mess!"

Lily, taken aback by Grace's hostility, shrank back behind Mary's protective form. Mary, her jaw set in a determined line, tightened her grip on Lily's shoulder. "Lady Grace," she said again, her voice laced with a newfound steel, "watch your tone."

Grace's eyes blazed with fury. She raised a hand, and with a sickening crack, slapped Mary across the face. "Don't tell me what to do!" she snarled. "You, a lowly servant, dare defy a Volkov?" Her voice dropped to a menacing whisper. "Don't forget, Mary, what happened to your dear son last time you crossed me."

The mention of her son drained the defiance from Mary's face. Her eyes widened in terror, and her hand, which had been protectively wrapped around Lily, went limp. She took a hesitant step back, leaving Lily exposed to Grace's wrath.

Grace, a cruel smile twisting her lips, leaned in close to Lily. "This manor will be spotless by the end of the day," she hissed, her voice dripping with venom. "And you, little flower, will be long gone before I'm finished with you."

Lily, tears welling up in her eyes, looked around for Niklaus, for anyone who could offer her protection. But the grand hall was empty, a chilling reminder of her isolation within Volkov Manor. As Grace towered over her, a chilling realization dawned on Lily. Here, in this opulent prison, she was just another pawn in a dangerous game she didn't understand.

A cruel gleam flickered in Grace's eyes as she saw the fear bloom on Lily's face. With a calculated stumble, Grace slammed her elbow against the edge of a nearby table, a strangled gasp escaping her lips. A crimson stain bloomed on her pale skin, a silent accusation aimed squarely at Lily.

"Oh, the pain!" Grace cried out, clutching her arm dramatically. "Look what you've done! You've hurt me!" Tears welled up in her eyes, tears that seemed crafted from pure melodrama. "Niklaus will never forgive you for this!"

Lily, stunned by the sudden turn of events, stammered apologies. She hadn't even touched Grace! But the sight of the blood seemed to drain the color from her face. Niklaus wouldn't like this. He had specifically ordered her not to cause any disturbances.

As if summoned by Grace's theatrics, the heavy oak doors at the far end of the hall swung open. Niklaus strode in, his face a mask of thunder. He took in the scene with a single, chilling glance – Grace, clutching her arm, a picture of suffering innocence; and Lily, standing frozen, her eyes wide with fear.

"What happened here?" Niklaus demanded, his voice a low growl that sent shivers down Lily's spine.

Grace, seizing the opportunity, rushed to him, her voice thick with feigned hurt. "It's all her fault, Niklaus!" she cried, pointing at Lily. "She… she pushed me! Look at my arm!" She displayed the wound with a theatrical flourish.

Niklaus's gaze fell on Lily, his eyes burning with a cold fury that made her knees wobble. He towered over her, his voice a dangerous rasp. "You disobeyed me," he snarled. "I told you to stay out of trouble."

Tears welled up in Lily's eyes, brimming over and tracing glistening tracks down her cheeks. "I… I didn't, Master Niklaus," she stammered, her voice barely a whisper. "She…"

"Silence!" Niklaus roared, cutting her off. The sound echoed through the hall, making the crystal chandeliers tremble. Lily flinched back, terror choking her voice.

"You will learn to control your temper," Niklaus continued, his voice low and menacing. "But for now, you will be punished. Consider this a lesson." He turned away from Lily, his voice a cold command as he addressed Grace.

"Take her to the greenhouse," he ordered. "She will tend to the rose garden. Food will be brought to her there. She is only to return here to sleep. Understand?"

Grace, her act of injury forgotten, straightened up, a triumphant smirk playing on her lips. "Of course, Niklaus," she purred, her voice dripping with honeyed venom. Taking a perverse pleasure in Lily's misery, she grabbed the girl's arm, her grip surprisingly strong.

Lily, overwhelmed and heartbroken, cast a final desperate glance at Niklaus. What was happening? She had done nothing wrong! But his face remained unreadable, a mask of cold indifference.

With a sob that tore at her heart, Lily allowed herself to be dragged away by Grace, the grand hall and its cold, marble floors receding behind them. She had become a prisoner in a gilded cage, a pawn in a game she didn't understand.

Niklaus watched them go, his expression a stormy mix of emotions. The sight of Lily's tear-streaked face awakened a flicker of something akin to… regret? No, he wouldn't allow himself to be swayed by such sentimentality. Lily was a complication, a potential liability. He couldn't risk her witnessing his true nature, the monstrous hunger that lurked beneath his human facade.

But controlling his anger had been difficult, especially with Grace's blood staining the floor, a potent, alluring reminder of his true form. He slammed his fist against the wall, the force of the blow shaking the ancient stones.

He loathed Grace, her scheming ways, her manipulative nature. But she was also his only hope to reclaim Asteria, to ascend the throne he was rightfully denied. He gritted his teeth, a bitter taste coating his tongue. He would use Grace, play her like a pawn, all the while keeping Lily safe.

Safe from the world, safe from him. As for Lily, he would keep her at the greenhouse, away from the manor, away from prying eyes. He couldn't afford to lose control. Not for her. Not yet.