It was deep winter. The wolves could be heard calling out to the moon. They usually left the people of the village of Cachville alone, choosing to stay within the wilderness of the Little Carpathians mountain range. However, due to the long, harsh winter they were circling the village, stealing away and killing anyone foolish enough to step too far out of the man-made confines.

In the Utoni household there used to be three beautiful girls and their two darling parents. But since the Dark Times had arrived, along with permanent snow and cold, the household had shortened down to just two people. A place of humble beauty, a cottage surrounded by wild flowers and chirping birds and filled with the laughter of little girls, now was desolate and empty and silent. Like its neighbours, the cottage had fallen into disrepair. Holes gaped in the poorly thatched roof. The wood, no longer covered by ivy and scented flowers, had turned a deep black due to the heavy, wet weather. Crows hopped about the ground desperately hoping to awaken worms and to tempt them out of the ground.

Snow fell continuously. Beautiful, little white fairies against a backdrop of black sky, but it was deadly. Most of the village was dead or dying. Most of the people there were old.

Bubbles, one of the few youngsters left free, shivered on hearing the howling of the wolves before closing the wooden shutters and running up to the fire in their small one bedroom home. Her father sat in the only chair, situated in front of the fire. She curled up on his lap and looked up at his face. He was a young man, but aged before his time. The light shone flickering shadows upon his face, warping it, changing it, making it shift constantly so that it was unreadable. She looked away.

"Oh when will winter end?" she complained to herself before saying aloud, "papa, when the snow finally goes away, then my big sister will come back won't she?"

"That was what we were promised," he said flatly, his voice dry.

"Maybe then Buttercup will come back too?" she said hopefully.

Father said nothing. Both knew what he was thinking. That Buttercup was gone for good. That the wolves had taken her. That she was dead.

There was no talking for a little while, only the crackling of their weak fire, the only thing of value in their small huddle of a home.

At last father said, "there is no food left. We have finished are stores. The rations are depleted." He sighed, squeezing his eyes shut and letting one last tear fall down his cheek, "we are going to die. Or at least, I am."

"Papa no!" Bubbles turned in his lap so that she could hug him, "please don't talk that way! We will work it out somehow."

"You are fourteen years old, beautiful and wonderful. You should be courting handsome boys and running free in the fields of emerald grass under a sapphire sky. You should not be condemned to cold and misery and starvation. It isn't right." He paused, listening to his fair child weeping piteously, "I received a summons from Castle Čachtice early this morning..."

"From the Castle, where Blossom went to?"

"Yes, they are in need of more maids."

"They're always in need of more maids," shuddered Bubbles.

"Pay no mind to the rumours and gossip," he chastised, noticing her shaking, "there is no proof of such happenings. The Morbucks are our betters and key employers of our village. If they need more maids, well, I'd rather you in a handsome castle than starving here with me."

"But you believe the gossip too," she argued, "that's why you tried to get Blossom back, and why you've waited so long before sending me to the castle. I know there have been many more requests for new girls to serve Lady Elizabeth Morbucks. Everyone knows." She got off his lap and stared at him mournfully, "please do not send me there papa. I would never see you again, even if there is no evil in that castle, no one ever leaves it. We haven't seen Blossom once since she went away."

"I cannot help it," he said, his voice still dry and blank, as if all his emotions had been used up, and empty well of a man, a shell of his former self, "you will definitely die out here with me. But you might survive in that castle. Perhaps if you are clever or get into the family's good graces. And how could you not? You are beautiful and kind and good. No one could hate you. I have to trust that the rumours are false, and that you are stronger than you appear."

She slid off his lap and fell to her knees, placing her head on his lap and crying. "Papa, please don't! I'd rather die out here with you."

"Well that's not what I want," he answered tiredly, "you will go, tonight. You will go tomorrow morning and I shall pray for you."

"But you'll be all alone!"

"I shall spend my last days hoping that you are safe and well. Do you hear that? The wolves are even closer. They can sense us all dying. They will..." he stopped himself from saying that they wanted to eat the corpse he would leave behind. His daughter was traumatised enough. He wanted to save her from what he could. "Don't hate me," he said instead, "I do this because I love you."

"I know," she sniffed, resigned, "I know papa."

They spent the night as they always did, lying on the hearth in front of the fire. They slept together under one small blanket because it was too cold to sleep separately. Bubbles lay awake shivering. Lowly the sky outside transformed from its starless black to a hazy grey. The white light shone through the window. The wolves' howls were replaced with coarse cawing of ravens and crows. She reluctantly pulled away from her warm father and re-lit the fire. It was so cold that she could see her own breath. She rubbed her skin, which was dry and cracked from the perpetual cold. How long had it been winter now? It felt like years. Ever since the Morbucks came, it had been nothing but winter.

When the fire was warm enough and her father began to stir she put on the metal kettle, the kettle filled with snow which she would boil for them to drink. They sipped their boiling water a few minutes later and ate the last bits of dry bread they had. Father gave her the biggest chunk saying she would need it for the journey. She nodded and accepted the gift, knowing it would make him happy, just a little, just as much happiness that his frozen, broken heart could muster.

Parting was a quiet, sombre affair. They hugged on the doorstep of the cottage for far too long. A few tears falling from her crystal blue eyes. The wind blew bitterly from the north, bellowing like a giant, unseen bully.

"Be gone now," he said, "the castle calls you."

"I shall return papa," she said firmly, "I will come back for you. Please try to stay alive. Please try! You won't have me holding you back, but you will have the hope of me finding you again someday."

He gripped her hand tight, "I shall try," he whispered at length before finally letting her go. He immediately missed his warmth, but fighting against the urge to go back to him, to run into his arms, she began to walk away. She didn't look back; she couldn't, she just couldn't.

A few faces in the other cottages watched her as she left. Their faces were blank, their eyes hollow. They were starved and hopeless. She grit her jaw, too young to have given up the way they had.

In the distance Castle Čachtice stood overlooking the village like an ogre. It was enormous, so large that it used to block out the sun, casting the village always in its shadow. Whoever had made the castle had been cruel to place it there, as if to let the people know that they were never as important as the people living inside it. That the rich could even steal their sun if they wanted to.

Bubbles stomped through the snow, walking becoming harder the further away she drifted from the village. The snow reached her knees so that she had to wade through it, as if walking in water. Soon she was feeling almost hot from the excursion, her chest heaving and her heart beating fast. All the while the castle got closer.

She could see the ravens and crows flying about its torrents. The bricks were jet black and looked wet.

Bubbles leapt slightly when she heard a snarl. She turned and looked behind her. Three wolves stood on a hill above her, staring down. She frowned at them, not allowing herself to exert fear. The wolves tongues were hanging loose, but none of them looked hostile, so she continued to walk, all the time looking out for a stick or a rock so that she could use it as a weapon against them if she needed to.

They followed her all the way to the castle, but did not attack her at all. Perhaps she was too skinny to tempt them.

At last, as afternoon fell and the sky was already darkening, she arrived at Čachtice. The castle's shadow stretched out along the hill that it stood upon. Looking behind her she saw the three wolves and beyond that she could see the small black squares that made up the homes of her little village.

"Papa."

The wolves let out a whine. She focused on them only to see them pawing anxiously at the Castle's shadow. It seemed they did not wish to cross it.

"That is a bad omen," she thought, gulping. Nonetheless, she walked straight up to the large oak doors. On them was a knocker which was shaped as a human skull. Rather tasteless and vulgar, but the Morbucks were a known violent, warrior family whose ancestors had been thieves and criminals and murderers. There were rumours of them all being insane from generations of incest and rape.

Steeling herself, she banged the knocker and waited patiently for several minutes before the door was finally opened by a sinister woman with a pale complexion and long dark hair. She smiled down at Bubbles. "Well aren't you a delicious little morsel," she declared, Bubbles noting her unusually sharp teeth.

"I've come here about a job," answered Bubbles staring up at the tall woman, "my father heard you need more maids here."

"Come in, come in, you must be frozen." Bubbles entered at the woman's bequest. Inside the house was huge. The walls were a deep rich brown. On them were large portraits of the Morbucks ancestors. They were usually on horses and wore armour. Many of them had fiery red hair, or deep black hair like the tall lady. All of them had full red lips and a dark glint in their eye. They all stared down at her. The only light came from a chandelier, half the candles lit and flickering from a draft that was blowing through the building. Like her father's face the night before, the light cast strange shadows across the walls that were in almost constant motion. Everything was strange and out of sorts.

"Who are you?" she breathed.

The lady smiled, "I am Seduca Morbucks. I am the aunt of the Lady of this house. I have come to stay."

"I'm sorry, I did not know you was...I wouldn't have spoken to you in such a casual way My Lady, had I known you were a Morbuck."

"Quite alright. We do not have enough staff. But I'm sure you can help us now, can't you?"

"Yes My Lady," Bubbles gave a small curtsey.

Lady Seduca led Bubbles up a large and long staircase that wound its way up the castle. It led to a corridor which was almost completely black. Seduca took a candle and continued to lead the way. On the wall gargoyles stretched out their arms, their mouths frozen open, their eyes bulging. In the distance the wolves were singing their chorus again. Bubbles felt like crying then, but she didn't.

At the end of the corridor was a red door. Lady Seduca knocked it thrice before opening it. As she did a cold wind with snow blew out from under it. Bubbles held in a small gasp. Inside the room the walls were pure black. There was a bed, also black with black, rich looking sheets. In the middle was a large mirror. It stood tall, the outside of it obsidian black, so black that Bubbles couldn't work out what it was made from. In front of the mirror stood a pale-skinned girl with fiery red hair which fell in long curls down her back. Like Lady Seduca she was very tall and very slender. She wore a thin silk dress which was long but revealed most of her white back and arms. The window was open, allowing the howls of wolves and the wind and snow to pour in. However, she seemed quite unaffected by it all.

She turned and smiled at them, her black eyes lighting greedily when she looked down at Bubbles.

"And what do you have for me aunt? What gift is this?"

"A girl from the village," answered Lady Seduca, "isn't she pretty? Look at this hair, like the sun captured within it."

Bubbles felt the long nails of Lady Seduca feeling through the hair and gently touching the scalp, trailing down the side of her neck and settling at its base.

"Very pretty," hissed the red-head, "I am Elizabeth Morebucks: your superior, your duchess. You will work for me now. You will be mine."

"Yes My Lady," gulped Bubbles, not liking the situation at all.

Lady Seduca chucked darkly behind her, making her shiver.

"What is your name child?"

"Bubbles Utoni My Lady."

Lady Elizabeth breathed in through her sharp nostrils, and for a moment looked to be in pure ecstasy before she opened her eyes and calmed herself again.

"Utoni?" she repeated, "that sounds familiar."

"I have a sister, she is here. She came for work."

The two women looked at one another, as if they were swapping a secret message.

"Well, maybe we shall find her at some point," said Lady Elizabeth, "we sometimes lose track of all the girls' names here. We have so many of you. So many, yet never enough. Aunty, would you be good enough to send Bubbles to her living quarters? You will start pleasing me tomorrow Bubbles."

"Yes My lady," she bopped a curtsey again before being swept out the room again, Elizabeth turning to admire herself in her mirror once more, the snow blowing around her.