Once Betrayed Never Forgotten

Chapter 14: The Taste of Longing

With Aleksandr back in the library, Seraphina leads me away through the winding stone corridors. It feels like we’re walking forever, and everything starts to look the same. The corridors are cold and echoey, like whispers of secrets trapped within the walls. The red Persian carpets beneath my feet flow like rivers of blood, or veins pulsing through the castle’s heart, and for a second, my nightmare flashes before my eyes.

Stained glass windows occasionally break the monotony, casting multicoloured fragments of light across the floor. The stars outside twinkle through the darkness, and I can’t help but wonder about the time. I’ve been in this castle for more than a day, I think. The absence of clocks or watches reminds me that I’m disconnected from the world beyond these walls. But even with that uncertainty, I’m sure the sun should have risen by now. That thought, coupled with the castle’s name, “The Castle of Endless Night, makes me suspect that daylight might never touch this place..

Before long, we arrive at a pair of grand double doors, ornately carved and imposing. They swing open before us with an echoing groan, revealing a scene straight out of a gothic fantasy. Property belongs to Nôvel(D)r/ama.Org.

The dining hall is vast, its grandeur almost overwhelming. Stained glass cathedral windows line. the walls, casting eerie multicoloured hues across the room, giving an illusion of macabre beauty under a starlit sky.

A long table commands the centre of the room, polished black stone veined with a strange red mineral, like veins of red fire, glowing with an otherworldly light.

The table is a behemoth, stretching out to accommodate at least forty or fifty people. Massive wrought iron chandeliers hang from the ceiling, each armed with red candles that emit the same. eerie, cold icy blue light that seems to be the norm in this castle.

“Where should I sit?” I ask, my voice hushed as if I might disturb the ethereal atmosphere.

Seraphina gestures for me to choose, her movements graceful and her eyes sparkling with amusement. “It’s your pick.”

The head of the table feels too grand, too official, so I opt for a spot not too far from where I’m already standing, about halfway down the immense table. I pull out a chair and sit, expecting it to be as uncomfortable as it looks. But to my surprise, it’s actually rather cosy.

As if on cue, Seraphina appears seated across from me, her eyes alight with curiosity.

“So, uh, what’s on the menu?” I ask, my gaze flickering around the room. It’s clear there are not visible signs of a kitchen or serving staff.

Chapter 14 The Taste of Longing

Seraphina’s smile is cryptic, her eyes dancing with knowing glint. “What’s your favourite food in the whole wide world?”

I’m momentarily caught off guard, my thoughts rading through various options. Pizza, blueberry pancakes with maple syrup and bacon, nachos at the little cantina on Sunnyhill Street–each dish. flashes through my mind. If I had to pick a cuisine ‘d say Mexican. Or Japanese? I do love a good bowl of spicy miso ramen….

But Seraphina seems to know more than she’s letting on, like she’s reading my thoughts. She interrupts my mental debate.

“Let me rephrase,” she says, her tone gently coaxing. “What’s the most delicious thing you

eaten? Think, remember.”

ve ever

As I delve deeper into my memories, the answer comes to me. A simple red velvet cake with buttercream icing, baked by my mom every year for my birthday. The sweetness of those moments shared together, the tradition of devouring the whole cake with her in one sitting, is something I hold dear. My 18th birthday, just over a week ago, marked the first year she didn’t bake it. The chaos of wedding preparations had taken over her attention.

So, out of everything I’ve ever tasted, that cake is the one I wish for right now, more than anything else in the world. It’s a small thing, but it’s my link to the past and my mom’s love.

As the thought of that cake crosses my mind, a silver serving tray with a domed lid appears before me in the blink of an eye. The unexpected appearance causes me to jump in my seat, a startled squeak escaping my lips. Seraphina finds this utterly hilarious, her laughter echoing through the

room.

Once her

what after subsides enough for her to speak again, she says between giggles, “Go on then,

what are you waiting for? Eat.”

Dread pools in my stomach, and I have a sinking suspicion of what’s under that domed lid. Still, I can’t quite believe it. I just stare at it, my heart racing. Noticing my hesitation, Seraphina lets out. a dramatic sigh and promptly disappears from her chair, reappearing standing beside me moments later. She lifts the lid with a flourish, and there it is, the cake. The same cake my mom bakes for me every year, covered in rosettes of piped frosting, an unmistakable swirled rose- shaped pattern with 18 small golden candles flickering in a shining circle of light. My jaw drops in shock, and for a moment, I can’t find my voice.

Seraphina’s mischievous smile remains as she reappears in her chair. “Don’t forget to make a wish when you blow them out,” she says.

I’m still processing the fact that the cake appeared without any verbal request. Did she somehow

Chapter 18 The Taste of à engine

read my thoughts?

This can’t jud be in coincidence.

My disbelief keeps me frozen, and she glances at the candles expectantly. But I’m still grappling with the fact that just thinking about cake summoned it.

“Aren’t you going to blow them out?” Seraphina prompts, gesturing to the candles.

Snapping out of my daze, I quickly take in a breath and blow out the candles, while silently wishing that I’ll find a way to escape this castle and reach the little village below. Seraphina watches intently, and I can’t help but wonder if my thoughts are as transparent as glass to her.

“Can I watch you eat?” she asks. “I find the eating habits of the living so fascinating. All the

chewing, the swallowing.”

I nod, my attention returning to the cake. But then I realise I need to cut it. As if anticipating my

need, a gleaming carving knife appears next to my hand. For a moment, I’m tempted by the thought of having a weapon in my hands. But what would I do with it? Fight against Seraphina, a vampire in a little girl’s form? My rationality prevails, and I pick up the knife and begin slicing the

cake.

Seraphina is grinning widely, her eyes practically gleaming with interest. I remind myself to keep my thoughts guarded, just in case she can truly read them. The knife cuts through the cake with ease, revealing its soft red layers. It smells freshly baked, right out of the oven, and my mouth begins to water in anticipation. I slice a piece for myself, and before I can even process it, a

gleaming silver cake fork appears beside the plate.

As I take a bite, a wave of flavours bursts over my taste buds. It tastes like all of my birthdays combined, like home, like my mom’s love. It’s enchanting, magical even. The cake itself is imbued with memories, a symphony of sensations that fill my senses. I can’t help but smile, my heart

swelling with a mixture of emotions.

Seraphina watches with intent fascination, her eyes locked onto me as if trying to unravel the mysteries of human consumption. I offer her a slice, but she declines with a shake of her head.

“No, it wouldn’t taste like anything but dust and ashes to me,”

she says

matter–of–factly.

I wince at her response, the surreal nature of our conversation not lost on me. With a mouthful of

cake, I decide to satisfy my curiosity. “So, what do you and the others… eat?” I ask hesitantly, trying to phrase the question as casually as possible. I already know the answer, but I need to hear it again, still struggling to comprehend and accept it.

Chapter 14: The Taste of Longing

Seraphina’s gaze remains fixed on me, her demeanour surprisingly open. “We feed exclusively on blood, of course. But you needn’t worry. The Vasiliev family’s vast business empire grants us access to every blood bank in major hospitals worldwide. We even have medtech companies that require blood for research purposes, all thanks to the Evergreen Legacy Consortium.

My stomach churns at the mention of blood, and I remember the scream from earlier. “And do you… get blood from humans?” I ask, the implications of my question making me feel a mix of fear and disgust.

Seraphina’s response comes with a reassuring smile. “No need to fret. Our supply is obtained without harm. We have access to everything we need.”

A small wave of relief washes over me. At least they’re not killing humans for sustenance.

Gotta be thankful for small mercies, right?

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