Now the Lady Amalie spoke languages both ancient and modern, and had knowledge of obscure alchemical formulas and mathematics not used since flames consumed the contents of the Library of Alexandria. But, her sheltered existence surrounded by scholarly tomes had left her ill prepared for the situation in which she found herself at the moment. Normally, mysterious pieces of paper intrigued her, but what she caught sight of, before it vanished beneath the veil of Carmilla’s skirts was altogether different. Indeed, gently bred as she was, it took a few heartbeats for the silent girl to realize exactly what she had glimpsed.

Was her cousin a – she found that, despite her extensive linguistic knowledge, she had to search hard for words to describe the situation – a, a degenerate rake?! Before her mind had the time to turn over the possibilities of it all, she heard a sound like the rushing of a thousand wings beating against the air. One hand clutched at the lace at her throat, and she looked this way and that, as the room began to shift and dissolve into a chiaroscuro of shadows and light. The rustling grew louder and mingled with the rushing of blood through her veins. Like thread passing through a needle, her gaze was transfixed at a spot between the furious princess and her dumbstruck cousin. She could sense a storm gathering around her friends, but the exact nature of it eluded her. Frowning, she concentrated, trying to make the vision resolve itself into something she could understand. But, as she pushed against it with her mind, it suddenly pushed back and the room exploded into brilliant shards of light, as her reality shattered around her…

When she regained her senses, she found herself staring up into the worried face of her little maid. “My Lady!” Sabine bit her bottom lip as she looked down at the small form of her mistress, lying amidst a puddle of taffeta and lace. The girl didn’t understand what had happened to upset her mistress so. They all were taking tea, when Lord Drakesheath had fetched a book from the shelf, and something had fallen from it. Mercifully, Sabine had not seen what it was, but suddenly everyone was all out of sorts and Lady Amalie had fainted. She gave Victor as reproachful of a glance as she dared, given her station, for she was convinced his programme of air and exercise was exhausting her fragile mistress.

“My Lady? Are you allright?” There was no mistaking the rasp of Cosgrove’s voice as he glided into the room. He always seemed to appear from nowhere, whenever Amalie was in distress. He crossed the room and knelt down beside her. She reached out and tugged on the lapel of his jacket, and pointed upwards with one finger. Nodding, he carefully scooped her up in his arms and carried her out of the room, leaving Sabine to offer a flood of apologies to the others present. Duty done, the little maid curtsied and departed with haste.

“I’ll go get the tonic Dr. Van Hasding prescribed for you!” Sabine called out as she hurriedly ran past the two of them.

“What is the matter?” Cosgrove looked down at his tiny lady, as she rested her head against his shoulder. A frown had settled onto her brow.

I fear relations between England and Holland shall become quite cool, at least in this house. Her words came to his mind. And there is another matter. I saw something in there. But when I concentrated to see it better, it fought against me, as if there was an intelligence behind it. I have never experienced that before.

“Strange indeed,” her manservant agreed.

Make no mistake, there is something out there that does not wish to have its existence known. Something that seems interested in my cousin and Princess Carmilla. I am worried for them…