Page 8 of Ravished By the Revenant

“I don’t know what to do,” I tell Shmoo.

We’re sitting on the edge of a garden bed, feeling forlorn. Well, I’m feeling forlorn—he likely doesn’t care either way, purring up a storm as he presses against my side. My stomach answers me instead, choosing that moment to rumble and remind me I haven’t eaten since the berries hours ago.

Well, I have veggies, vinegar, spices, oil—I can make myself a nice salad while I ponder my situation. And who knows, maybe the owners will come back soon. I’ll explain that I didn’t mean to trespass, and they’ll help me to the nearest town with a train station.

With a plan set, I get up, dusting off my jeans and ready to forage.

“What are we eating, Shmoo?” I ask my companion. “A little bit of everything?”

Schmetterling meows.

“Nice. Glad you agree.”

Cucumbers first. I love cucumbers. Then cabbage, tomatoes, lamb’s lettuce.

“I really wish I had some canned corn,” I tell the cat. “I freaking love sweetcorn in salads, don’t you?”

The gleam in Shmoo’s eyes looks suspiciously like vehement agreement.

Great, now I’m starting to anthropomorphize a feline.

I take my haul to the kitchen, then come back out with a pot, walking straight up to the well pump in the middle of the garden. My grandparents had one just like it, and it’s easy enough to get clean water—I’ve been using it to drink every time I failed at my escape today. I wash everything, chop it up, then apply the finishing touches with items from the pantry.

“Now I just need a couch and streaming,” I murmur to myself as I carry the bowl to the head of the giant table.

When I’m done eating, I notice it’s starting to get dark, the temperature dropping along with the sun. With a sigh, I rinse out the dishes before heading back to the pantry. There, I grab some kindling and candles and take them upstairs. Then I clean out the fireplace with the brush and pan I find next to the hearth, feeling a bit like Cinderella, thanks to Shmoo’s supervision. But the mice actually helped Cinderella. Shmoo just lounges.

By the time I find the firewood and bring it upstairs, it’s fully dark outside, and I’m ready for a hot bath. Except there’s no plumbing in this castle. In the ensuite, there’s a brass tub large enough to fit a giant, but no way to fill it. Do they carry buckets from the well up the stairs and then bathe in cold water? I don’t get it. I don’t think I’m made to be a medieval princess.

“Would be nice, though, wouldn’t it, Shmoo?” I ask my borrowed cat companion, slowly stroking his gray fur in front of the fire. “A nice hot bath with candlelight and strawberries...”

I went from being worried that Blackthorn Keep’s owners are going to show up and find me here to wishing they would come back fast so I can get back to civilization.

This fire is too darn cozy. I keep falling asleep with the book still in my hand. Shmoo is dozing too, curled up near my legs, but my bladder’s preventing me from joining him in the land of dreams. I get up slowly, careful not to jostle him—it’s been less than a day and I’m already a slave to my feline overlord.

Yawning, I pad to the bathroom, barefoot. When I blink open my eyes, I stop in my tracks. The bathtub is filled with steaming water with scattered rose petals, and there’s a tray of strawberries on an end table next to it. The bathroom is softly illuminated by dozens of candles.

Am I dreaming? I mean, I have to be. How else would the bathtub magically fill itself?

“H—hello?” I stutter. When there’s no answer, I rub at my eyes violently.

The bathtub is still full.

I pinch myself.

No change.

My hair stands on end, and I shudder. I feel like eyes are burning into the back of my neck, so I whirl around, but no one’s there.

“What the hell is going on here?” I whisper to myself.

I tiptoe back into the bedroom, but there’s only Shmoo, stretched out over half the carpet in front of the low-burning fire. Biting my lip, I return to the bathroom. If I’m going to die tonight, it’s not going to be with a full bladder.

I hardly dare to breathe as I relieve myself, my eyes locked on the doorway like whoever owns this castle is about to pop their head in. Thankfully, I don’t have to jump up mid-pee.

Back in the bedroom, I pull on my boots, light one of the candles I brought up earlier, then take a deep breath. I have to go look for whoever prepared the bath. There’s just no way I’m going to be able to fall back asleep knowing there’s someone in the castle with me.

I peek out into the hallway, my breath coming faster when I see how dark it is. Anyone could be hiding in a corner. Acting braver than I feel, I step out and raise the candle to widen the circle of light.