A woman dressed like a maid enters the room carrying a silver tray with two fancy empty glasses and a pitcher of water on it. She is about 30 years old, wearing that classic black and white uniform that you'd see in the movies. And her brown hair is pulled back into a bun. She barely looks at either of us as she puts the tray down on a small table near us. She steps back from the table and almost comes to attention. She stands motionless and says nothing. Her eyes give the impression she has quite a mean streak. Gina thinks her clothes are interesting while I'm trying to understand why she is behaving like this. Walter returns and walks to the tray. He carefully pours the water into the glasses and hands us our drinks. "Is there anything else you would like?" he asks.

"Thanks...but no sir." Gina whispers once taking her water from him. He turns to the maid and says, "That will be all." She bows her head slightly and quickly leaves the room. Gina and I look at each other like 'Wow!'

Walter clears his throat to get our attention.
I redirect my eyes to him as I sip, and say, "So is Mr. Vladoiu out of town or something?"
He nods at me, "Yes–for a short while."

Gina then asks, "So what does he do?" For a long few seconds, he stares at me in a most unnerving way–like he's reading me or something, but then he turns to Gina and seems to regain that sort of professional but friendly attitude he had before. "He owns a heavy machinery corporation." My eyes grow. I know I should've expected something fantastic like that but it still shocks me. Gina is making the same face as me.

"Oh," she is quieter all of a sudden. A little shy smile graces her lips.
Walter turns his attention to the rain-soaked windows, "It seems the weather has gotten worse. It would be dangerous to cross the sound under the current circumstances and I don't imagine it will be getting better any time soon. Mr. Vladoiu's executive assistant, Mr. Francis, has asked me to suggest you consider staying the night."

I glance at Gina in an almost expectant way.
She does the same to me.

...So I'm left to answer.
Ohh, I don't like this idea! I look at a window.
It's raining cats and dogs. We don't have a choice.
Damn it.

"Okay, that sounds alright." I agree.
Gosh, I could just hear my mom right now.

"Our phones..." Gina says, "They don't have any life left in them; do you by any chance have a way we can-" "I'm afraid the lines are down at the moment. I'm sorry."
She blinks at him, "Because of the weather?"

"Indeed." He says.
"Damn..." I mutter to myself. This feels bad.

He then walks to a telephone on a nearby desk and picks up the receiver. I see him push 2 buttons, wait about 2 seconds, then he starts talking. I can't understand what he is saying. After a couple more seconds, he hangs up and looks toward the door on his left. Gina looks at me and starts asking Walter about the phone. "You said the phone was out." Walter smiles at her and says, "This castle is equipped with internal telephone communications madam. I assure you the lines to the mainland are down." The maid returns to the room and stands still. Walter bows his head and gestures Gina to look at the maid, "Maria will show you to your guestroom and I will show you to yours Miss Ivy. She will also provide each of you a robe while your clothes are laundered and pressed." Oh...! Well...that's quite nice! Wow!

Gina and I give each other the 'are you okay with that?' look again. She nods at me and starts walking away with Maria.

"Wait," I say to Walter, "What about our stuff? And what floor will this be on?" Gina and Maria stop and peer over their shoulders at us.

"Of course. Your belongings will be taken to your rooms momentarily. The guestrooms are on the second floor madam." He says.

I nod carefully, "Ok then." Second floor sounds easy enough. My eyes slide away from him to Gina who seems to get what I'm thinking. Her gaze says 'stay safe–I'll see you soon'. I purse my lips at her in a likewise manner. Maria leads her up the left staircase and I look at Walter again. He motions me to follow him, so I do–carefully.

We go up the right side. I continuously peek back for Gina but she has already disappeared, which I find a bit odd. I don't give it much thought though.

The hall is long and narrow, with blood-red trimmings, has many oil paintings of people and old-fashioned lamps on the walls. This place feels eerier now. The atmosphere is also becoming strange in way I can hardly explain. The best I can do is to say the air is getting heavier. And even that sounds crazy.

"Alright Miss Ivy..." he stops at a door and gently opens it, "Here you are; the Windsor room." I look in. Whoa! There's an old dark brown canopy bed with white drapes and a burgundy comforter–How heavenly! The room has a very beautiful 19th century English twist with many different antiques and an amazing dark brown grandfather clock. The nightstands, table lamps, dressers and doors have a dark yet exquisite look. I really love that. The two windows at the right side of the bed are tall, pointy at the top and dressed with burgundy curtains. Mr. Vladoiu sure has taste!

"Windsor room...like Windsor castle?" I quietly ask–almost like musing it. "Yes indeed." he says, "Each guestroom represents a castle Mr. Vladoiu has visited." Oh my!

Well if that's the case, what kind of room does Gina have? I'm sure it's amazing. "That's absolutely beautiful and clever." I look at him with a smile. He is amused by that, and he says, "Yes, yes it is." He looks back in the room shortly after that, "Maria and another maid, Christine, will come with your belongings and your robe momentarily."

I nod an okay, but also ask, "What room does Gina have?"
"The Mont-Saint Michel room; fashioned after the castle in Normandy, France." He says while stepping into the hall.

I smile again, "Wow..."
He dips his head, "Now, if you'll excuse me."

"Of course," I agree, and as he starts walking away, I slowly shut the door.
With a sigh, I rub my arms and wander over to the window. For a worrywart, I think I'm doing pretty well so far. I wonder what Gina is doing right now, or my family for that matter. I hope they aren't fretting over me too much–or at all.

I slowly bring my eyes up from the wavering trees to the darkened sky, watching the rain. Then the heavy feeling from the hall returns, as if something is slipping through the seams of the door. This makes me turn to look. But nothing's there. I raise an eyebrow as I scan everywhere around me. It feels like there are many people in the room with me, watching me, staring at me, planning to do something...possibly bad. Because of that, my stomach is starting to twist. I back up slowly to the window. Suddenly, I jump to hearing someone knocking on the door. I put a hand on my forehead, "Yes?" Wow...that was intense.

"Miss Ivy?" It's a woman's voice. It could be Maria. I go and quickly open the door. I see her and another maid–Christine, I assume–with my stuff and a very soft-looking red robe. I can't wait to wear it.

I step aside, letting them in.
"Hello, I'm Christine. I'll just set this robe on the bed here if that's alright."
Maria puts my bags on a table. I'm a little shy and tell Christine, "Yes, that's just fine, thank you."

"I will return for your clothes in a bit." Maria says. Man, even her voice has a little attitude about it–or maybe I'm just quick to judge her. She adds, "If you need anything, you can use the phone over there on the nightstand to speak with the maids' quarters. Just push 11."

"Oh...ok...thanks." I say. She and Christine nod and leave the room.

I walk over to the bed and start removing my clothes.
"God, I didn't realize they would stick this bad!" Taking my shoes off nearly knocks me off my feet. I don't want to sit on the bed; it'll mess it up.

I glance over at a door, thinking it must be the bathroom. I wonder what it looks like in there... I need to wash off but I'm shy about the idea of using someone else's shower/tub. I can't exactly make myself comfortable–even if I tried. Plus, I don't know when Maria will be back.

Well, regardless of how I feel, I need to do something about this nasty clamminess, so I walk up to the door. Before I touch the knob, I jerk away and look around. A couple strands of my hair were just tugged on! There aren't any cobwebs. It doesn't really make sense to me that there would be...

It was something else. It had to have been. What was it?
Rubbing the back of my head slowly, I stop searching the room and proceed to open the door. My eyes grow in awe.

The walls are light yellow with white royal-looking trim, the stone floor is a grayish yellow, there are a few tables and chairs spread around and there's a beautiful tub in the center of the floor. The two windows to my left are fairly small with no curtains, but instead are stained glass, and of course, they're European-styled. Wow... How I would love to take a bath in that... But I can't, sadly... Maybe in the morning?

There's suddenly a knocking on the door and someone calling my name. I turn and quickly go out to answer it, snatching my clothes along the way. "Just a second please." I open it in a hurry.

Maria takes a step back in surprise.
"Sorry..." I lightly chuckle.

She looks down at my clothes and reaches for them, "It's alright." As I hand them to her, I say, "I'm kinda clammy..."

"You can take a bath." She nods at me.
"Oh..." Thank goodness!

"Your dinner will be brought at 6, and by then, your clothes will be finished." Whoa, dinner in here rather than in a dining room or something? "Not in a dining room?" I ask.

"Well," she slightly smirks, "we wouldn't want our guests roaming the castle..."
Oh, I see. "Right... Okay."

I then ask, "Can you tell me where Gina is?"
"She's down the other hall." She starts going for the door, "Enjoy your bath." Before I can ask which room Gina's in, she goes out. That's weird...

Slightly puzzled, I go to take my bath and run the water hot. Once I settle in the tub, I rest my head back and let out a long relaxed sigh; the uncomfortable feeling of using another's bathroom isn't bothering me at the moment. However, speaking of 'uncomfortable', I slowly open my eyes and scan the room. Something might happen while I'm in here; this place has an unnerving vibe to it. I stop lounging and hurry up with my bath a little. With these supernatural occurrences on my mind, I don't want to give anything any chances.

When I come out in my robe, I look around the room for a television or radio. "Nothing, hmmm..." Well, maybe they don't get a lot of guests and that's why? I go pick through my stuff and take out my phone and journal. It's unfortunate that my battery is dead, but at least I have my book. I begin flipping through it as I walk to the bed. I soon realize that I've only made a few entries about that man I have dreamt of for years. Why is this? I am so much in love with this figment of my imagination yet I haven't written anything about him? That doesn't seem like me. It's like I just started dreaming about him, but I know that's not true! Or maybe...maybe I have either been too embarrassed or shy to put it down on paper. My dreams can get graphic sometimes...

I blush, slowly smiling to the thought. Lifting my head, I put one hand on the part I was about to read and stare off into space as I look back on a certain dream I had of this guy. I remember us laying together in a meadow under the midnight sky, holding each other, watching how the stars glistened like diamonds. There wasn't anything else there–it was just us. It was one of those dreams that you would be so sure, it would last for eternity. I wanted it to; therefore I thought it would. Waking up is always the most dreadful part.

"One of those innocent dreams." I close the journal and lie down on the bed. The covers are so comfy! Comfy like clouds. If I were at home, I would fall asleep immediately. This place though... I search the room once more, still trying to shake off the feeling of the unseen studying me. "No. It's got to be my imagination." I sigh, then look over at the nightstand on my right, near the windows. There's an old-fashioned clock there, showing it's 4:30 now. I took longer in the bathroom than I thought.

Well, I have a little while before dinner. I wish I could go see Gina. I can't though; I'm wearing this robe and I'm in someone else's home. What if Walter saw me walking down the hall in just a robe? I shudder to the thought. Well, there's no television in here. All I have is my journal and a lot of things to admire. "Ahh, that must be why there are so many antiques in here..." It's so the guests don't get too bored! I laugh lightly.

For the first 30 minutes to an hour, I examine the pictures, lamps, chairs, tables, the amount of detail in the walls and their panels–just about everything. Then after that, I look through my journal for a while. Most of the memories held in it make me laugh. I was so silly when I was in my early teens; so emotionally driven. Once I started working at the hospital, my way of thinking drastically changed. I got serious. But some of the goofiness has never left me, I will admit that.

I hear a couple knocks on the door. I put the book down and go answer it. Maria is standing there with a cart that has a plate with a metal top on it, and I tell you, something on it smells absolutely delicious! It smells like lobster.

She comes inside, I follow her, and she removes the top. I'm hit with a blast of warm, great-smelling steam, which makes my stomach rumble. It was already doing that before but now I'm really hungry. I see lobster, corn and mashed potatoes all surrounded by lettuce in that fancy way high-dollar restaurants do.

"Compliments of Mr. Francis." She says.
I look up at her, "Wonderful...! Thank you!" I smile wide. She nods and puts the plate on a table. I watch the door shut. Then I turn and quickly go sit at the table.

"I'm really wondering who this Mr. Francis is now..." I say aloud. This night is going to be a long, quite possibly sleepless one. But I'll try to sleep through the creepy feelings this place gives off.

I begin my meal and wonder what Gina is eating.
"Oh, this is heaven!" Such scrumptious delight this lobster has! I can't wait to try the potatoes and corn! YUM!

Damn Mr. Francis has awesome taste!!!

-Nicolai-

"Walter, tell me... which rooms are they in?-The girls that had just arrived." I ask, setting a cup of tea down on my office desk.

Putting his hands together behind his back as he stands in front of the door, he says, "Miss Summers is in the Windsor room and Miss Lewis is in the Mont St. Michel room."

"Hmm..." I lower my head and stare into my drink, the memory of when I stood in the darkness of the southwest tower, watching them journey to the island flashes in my mind. I left the tower for my office, called Walter in and told him to invite them inside. He questioned me on that and Rozalia slightly snapped at him. "Ivy is important to me!" And suddenly, I knew her name. Rozalia knows the unknowable and reveals things to me quite unexpectedly.

"Ivy... sir?" he asked. I sighed and covered my face with a hand, "Excuse me... Yes–the strawberry blonde woman." After that, he became even more curious but left without saying another word. Rozalia made my special sight stray from the office to the main entrance to observe everything between him and those girls. I almost scolded Rozalia. However, once I saw 'Ivy' again, I too was distracted by her being here. I had nothing to say in that instant.

"Sir?" Walter says, bringing me back to reality.
I flick my eyes up to him, raising a brow in question.

"Are you alright?" He asks. I blink, then form a smile and nod, "Yes yes, I'm quite alright." He becomes more puzzled. First he's silent, but eventually the great curiosity overcomes him. "I've noticed..." he says, "You behave as if you know Miss Ivy quite well." He slightly smiles in a teasing manner.

I start to grit my teeth a little.
"Ohh, this is uncomfortable. We cannot have him noticing this interest in her."
My smile almost vanishes.

Despite Rozalia's attitude on this, I say to him in a friendly tone, "Only in passing when I visited the mainland..."
"Ahh," He says, yet wonder still remains in his eyes. He doesn't comment any more than that though. I tilt my head, glancing at the clock on my desk, "Do they have cell phones with them?"
"Yes sir..."

I look up at him, "Are they dead?"
"Yes, they are." As expected.

I nod slowly, "Ah..." This is good–no photo snapping or phone calls. He studies my face almost intently.

"Will you bring me another cup of tea please?"
"Yes of course Sir." He walks out.

Once he shuts the door, time slows to a stop in the room. I grimace down at the desk and rub my forehead, "This is foolish."

"I have an agenda; one that will benefit both of us."

"You are vain. I know what you want and I will not provide it. She may be familiar to you but all you want is a drink."

"You are beating yourself over the head trying to understand, Dmitri. Just drink your tea." She makes me pick up the cup and stare into it like looking down a well.

I quickly put the cup down, "No control tonight!" She laughs and tries to pick it up again. I snatch that wrist and start cackling in her way. The door opens, and time returns to normal. I stop laughing when I look at Walter standing there, giving me a strange expression. I frown, removing my hand from the other, "You're back."

"Yes Sir." He walks up and places the cup on the desk, then he asks, "Excuse me sir, but I heard you shout and then I saw you-" I wave my hand at him, "I'm fine. It's nothing."
He steps back a little and shoots me a quizzical look, "Are you taking your medication?"

At that, I draw my brows down at him.
His own rise, as well as his hands, "Very well sir... I apologize."

I move my eyes over to the door, then back to him.
He nods at me and starts to leave, "Have a good night sir."

After he goes out, I hum to myself, "Mâine dimineață va fi interesant, fără îndoială."
I close my eyes.

*Mâine dimineață va fi interesant, fără îndoială.
Tomorrow morning will be interesting, no doubt.