Isolde

We danced the Crimson Waltz in his hall of a thousand candles. One, two, three... I never noticed that the other dancers were not breathing.

At midnight, on the balcony, he made me an offer. You will never be tired, or cold... or free again. I said yes. I was so tired of being cold.

I woke with crimson eyes, and my reflection was gone. I did not mourn it. For the first time in my life, the whole room was looking at me.

I learned the court the way I had learned my letters. Duchess Sanguinaire taught me patience. Virelle taught me to perform. Malvane taught me only hunger.

So one winter night, I drank the First Thirst dry. All that was left of Malvane was his coat, and his mask. And the court bowed to its new countess.

I made Castle Varenne the heart of the Crimson Court. The feast began at dusk, and it never ended. And the candles... never went out.

But my old servants were still mortal, and frightened. So I wrote to the only person I had ever trusted. Agathe, now Mother Superior of the Dawn. I asked her to shelter them.

She sent them back... with an army. Mother Superior Agathe led the hunters of the Dawn up the cliff road, and my own servants showed them the way.

They opened every shutter. The sun walked into my ballroom like an executioner. Half my court was gone before the first song had ended.

I survived in the crypts. Thin-blooded. Weak as a flame in the wind. And there, in the dark, for the first time in centuries... the candles went out.

I rebuilt it, guest by guest. The Endless Banquet is set again, and every chair is filled. My court feasts every night. The guests rarely leave.

Agathe believes the sun is on her side. But in my country the sun is only a rumour... and I have had it executed.

Come to my table, Mother Superior. The feast is waiting for you. And in my house... the candles never go out.