_*]:min-w-0 !gap-3.5">Maria counted the days on the crude calendar she'd made by scratching marks into the underside of the wooden bedframe. Three nights until the full moon. The realization sent a chill through her body that had nothing to do with the cool evening air drifting through her half-open window.

  "Not here," she whispered, clutching the simple wooden cross that hung around her neck. "Not in this strange pce, Light protect me."

  The curse had always been difficult to bear. The bone-breaking pain, the shame, the feeling of her mind slipping away as her body betrayed her. But at least at Blood Farm #17, she'd had a pce—a small storage closet where she could lock herself away while the change took her. The overseers had allowed it after she'd convinced them that her "fits" would frighten the other resources and disrupt production.

  Here, in this vast estate filled with unfamiliar faces and confusing luxury, she had nowhere to hide.

  Maria paced her too-comfortable room, unable to settle despite the softness of the bed and the warmth of the firepce. Luxury was a trap, designed to weaken her resolve. Father Gabriel might be a true servant of the Light, but he still served in a demon's household. She couldn't risk asking him directly about her needs—what if he didn't know about her curse? What if the demons here discovered her weakness and used it against her or her followers?

  Her followers. The thought of them sent another wave of anxiety through her. Were they maintaining their faith without her guidance? Had the overseers punished them for their connection to her? She should be there, helping them through their suffering, not here enjoying comforts they couldn't imagine.

  "The Light tests us all," she murmured, repeating the words she'd spoken so many times to comfort others. They felt hollow now, echoing in this room with its clean linens and actual gss in the windows.

  She couldn't stay here. She needed to find somewhere—a celr, an outbuilding, anywhere she could secure herself when the curse took hold.

  Maria waited until the household seemed quiet, then slipped out of her room. The hallway was dimly lit with small electric lights—another luxury that had shocked her upon arrival. Even the demons' territories had working electricity, while resources huddled in darkness.

  "They feast on light as they feast on blood," she whispered, an old saying from Blood Farm #17 that had taken on new meaning as she saw how the demons lived.

  She moved silently through the corridors, years of sneaking around for prayer meetings guiding her steps. The estate was rger than she'd realized, with many wings and passages. Several times she had to duck into alcoves as staff passed by, carrying linens or food trays despite the te hour.

  After nearly an hour of careful exploration, Maria had found nothing suitable. Most rooms were occupied or obviously in use. The few empty spaces had windows or doors that couldn't be properly secured. Nothing that could contain her when the curse took hold.

  Panic began to rise in her chest. Two more days of searching, and then what? She could try to run, find somewhere in the surrounding forests, but the estate grounds were patrolled. And Father Gabriel would be disappointed if she disappeared after he'd shown her such kindness.

  "There must be a way," she whispered, turning down another corridor. "The Light wouldn't bring me here without—"

  "Miss Maria?"

  She froze at the sound of the voice behind her. Turning slowly, she found Sarah, one of the household staff who had been assigned to help her adjust to the estate.

  "I'm just... walking," Maria said mely, knowing how suspicious she must look sneaking around in the middle of the night.

  Sarah smiled gently. "Trouble sleeping? It's common for newcomers. This pce is so different from... where you were before."

  Maria hesitated, then decided on a half-truth. "I'm looking for somewhere private. For... personal reasons."

  "Ah," Sarah said, her expression shifting to one of understanding. "You're worried about the full moon."

  Maria's heart stopped. "How do you—"

  "The Viscount informed us of your monthly condition," Sarah said simply. "That's why he had the shifting room prepared for you."

  "Shifting room?" Maria repeated, the unfamiliar term confusing her.

  "Yes, for your..." Sarah hesitated, choosing her words carefully. "For your monthly needs. The Viscount is very accommodating of all guests. The Baron must have told him about your situation."

  The Baron. Of course. Maria's shoulders slumped with relief and new anxiety. The Baron and his cursed people had known about her affliction, so naturally they would have informed the demon who ruled this territory. This "Viscount" who kept Father Gabriel as his pet priest.

  "Can you show me this room?" Maria asked carefully.

  Sarah nodded, gesturing for Maria to follow. They walked through several more corridors before descending a flight of stairs to a lower level of the estate. Sarah stopped before a heavy wooden door reinforced with iron bands.

  "This is it," she said, producing a key from her pocket and unlocking the door. "The Viscount had it specially prepared when he learned you were coming."

  The room beyond was spacious and surprisingly comfortable-looking. A thick, soft carpet of moss-green covered most of the stone floor. There were plush cushions and bnkets arranged in a circur pattern in one corner, and natural elements—stones, branches, and even a small indoor fountain creating a gentle trickling sound—decorated the space. The walls had been painted with forest scenes, and the single window had secure shutters that could be closed from the inside, but no bars or visible restraints.

  "It's... made for people like me?" Maria asked, trying to keep the tremor from her voice.

  "For your condition, yes," Sarah said. "The Viscount instructed that you're to have complete privacy during your time here. No one will disturb you. There's a special lock on the inside that only you can operate."

  Maria approached the lock mechanism, examining it with wonder. It was clearly designed to be operated from inside the room, allowing whoever used it to secure themselves completely.

  "Why would a demon lord provide this?" she whispered, more to herself than to Sarah.

  Sarah's expression flickered with something—confusion? concern?—before returning to professional pleasantness. "The Viscount is quite... progressive in his accommodation of special needs."

  Maria walked slowly around the room, touching the soft cushions and listening to the gentle sound of the water. It was nothing like the cramped, dark storage closet she'd used at Blood Farm #17. This room was designed not just for safety, but for... comfort? No, that couldn't be right. Demons didn't offer comfort.

  "I won't use it," she said suddenly, turning back to Sarah. "I won't use a room made by demons."

  Sarah's professional demeanor cracked slightly. "Miss Maria, with all due respect, the Viscount specifically ordered—"

  "I don't care what the demon ordered," Maria said, her voice rising. "I've endured my curse in worse pces than this. I won't accept their... charity."

  Sarah looked genuinely distressed now. "Please, Miss Maria. Father Gabriel himself supervised the preparation of this room. He was most insistent that you have a safe pce."

  The mention of Father Gabriel gave Maria pause. If he had been involved, perhaps the room wasn't a trap. Perhaps it truly was meant to help her.

  "I'll... think about it," she conceded, looking around the room once more.

  Sarah seemed to accept this compromise. "The key will be left in your room tomorrow. You can make your decision then."

  As they walked back to her quarters, Maria's mind raced with confusion. Everything she knew about demons told her this must be a trick, a way to observe her at her most vulnerable. And yet, the care that had gone into creating the room spoke of something else—something that didn't fit with the theology of the Church of Eternal Light.

  Back in her room, Maria knelt beside her bed to pray, her wooden cross clutched so tightly that it left marks on her palm.

  "Light guide me," she whispered into the darkness. "The path grows confusing. The demons offer comfort when they should offer pain. A priest serves in a demon's house. And my curse follows me even here."

  The moon would be full in three nights, and Maria had a decision to make—trust in the strange kindness of this pce, or trust in everything she had ever known about demons and their deceptions.