That was her plan, and she would stick to it. The decision comforted her and as she descended the stairs to attend her reading lesson she felt happy to have formulated a plan that would serve her goals. It must be awful, she thought, to be a being of good moral fibre afflicted with a hunger for flesh. Thankfully, the first room she tried was clearly long disused. She had no idea where The Beast slept, but she knew if she found it she would be closing the door and moving on. It was her spirit that had died. This one was called Epodes, and was by someone called Horace who didn’t seem to have a last name. But she couldn’t deny that she was infatuated by The Beast. It was clear The Beast hungered for her, but maybe it was simply the hunger of a predator rather than romantic desire. She would have preferred his rage by far to the coldness he treated her with. She trusted him. She was simply lost. It was not only
