What?

Grace ascended the grand staircase, her hand gliding along the polished banister. The interior of the Vermilion Spire Estate was vast and opulent, with soaring ceilings that receded into shadow. Crystal chandeliers adorned the halls, their light seemingly swallowed by the rich, dark red and black color scheme. Velvet drapes pooled on the floor, and the walls were lined with gleaming black oak paneling.

Directionless, Grace wandered through the extravagant manor, lost in her own tumultuous thoughts. This place, the man named Carter, the serpentine creatures - it was all like something out of a fantastical storybook. She pinched her arm again, the spots turning purple from the repeated action. Not a dream then, she concluded. Or was it possible to feel physical pain within a dream?

Grace shook her head, unwilling to entertain the notion that everything she once believed about the world was a lie. Somehow, she had found herself transported to this strange, magical realm. But how, and why? And what of her family? Does she even have a family? Did..did anyone even care that she was gone?

With a sigh, Grace continued her aimless wandering, eventually finding herself at the entrance to the bustling kitchen. Bracing herself, she pushed through the door and was met with a scene of utter culinary chaos.

Pots and pans clanged, a cacophony of sizzles and splatters filling the air, as the aroma of spices battled for dominance. Cooks moved in a frenetic ballet, dodging enchanted utensils that chopped and stirred with a life of their own. Amidst the organized pandemonium, one voice cut through the din.

"The soufflé isn't supposed to explode, you dolts - magic or no magic!"

Grace ducked as a wayward pan flew past her head. One of the cooks turned and caught sight of her, eyes widening in recognition.

"You! The girl!" the woman exclaimed.

Grace eyed the woman warily, her hand instinctively reaching up to lightly touch the bandage on her neck. "Yeah, genetically that's me. Who are you?" Grace grabbed the nearest thing she could get, a frying pan. She positioned it near her head and face as she stepped forward, she looked at the person in front of her whose appearance now registered.

The person's stature was compact and sturdy; her hair was a wild orchestra of chestnut curls, escaping in lively spirals from beneath the crisp white chef's hat perched atop her head. The tattoos on her forearms were visible even from a distance, a tapestry of herbs, spices, and culinary tools that seemed to dance and shift with her every move. Her attire was classic, a chef's jacket tailored to her form, the sleeves rolled up, the fabric catching flour dust and the scent of fresh ingredients

The woman's emerald eyes sparkled with amusement, unperturbed by Grace's guarded demeanor. "I'm Lydia, the head chef here at the Vermilion Spire Estate. And you must be our new guest, Miss Mildred."

Grace blinked, caught off guard by Lydia's friendly tone. "Guest? I'm…not sure I'd call myself that."

Lydia's expression softened as she noticed Grace's hand on the bandage. "What happened to your neck, dear?"

Grace hesitated, "It's nothing, really," she said, brushing it off. "Just a little accident."

Grace hesitated, "It's nothing, really," she said, brushing it off. "Just a little accident."

Her expression frowned in concern but that concerned quickly washed away as her gaze averted elsewhere, "Pie!"

"Pie?" She yanked my arm, pushing forward, an airborne pie with angel wings, zipped past her head, narrowly missing her as it soared through the kitchen. "Oh right," She recalled, "Things. Flying. Why are things flying?!"

The little woman dragged her under the counter, "I am so terribly sorry mistress, this meeting was going to go down very differently than this. A feast filled with all human treats and dishes, an apple pie, scallops, lobster, beef Wellington and more all displayed on the grand dining table to welcome you here."

"While that's, um, very nice of you, and please call me Grace, calling me 'mistress' just makes it sound like I'm…never mind, could you explain why I almost knocked out, twice?"

The woman sighed, "Well you know, a whole feast is a lot for one person to prepare, I only ever prepared one or two dishes a day. But then you came, and I got so excited and I thought magic would speed things up but…" loud clanging echoed through the kitchen, her shoulders slumped down, "Yeah..I'm sorry.."

"Lydia!"

Grace looked up to see a serpentine creature, his dark scales contrasting with the iridescent sheen of his counterpart. In his clawed hands, he carried what appeared to be several enchanted baseball bats.

"I got the thing!" the serpentine exclaimed, navigating through the flying objects to join them.

Lydia visibly brightened. "Oh, thank the gods!" She snatched one of the bats, holding it close with relief.

Grace's eyes were drawn to the intricate runes and symbols etched into the silver surface of the bat. "So a pair of bats is supposed to help, how?" She raised an eyebrow.

The serpentine creature turned to Grace, his golden eyes alight. "You're that girl! Remember me? I escorted you to your room." He whistled appreciatively as he looked her over. "See, Lydia? I told you a simple but elegant outfit is the way to go."

Lydia rolled her eyes. "My suggestion would have looked good on her too."

"Yeah, to a masquerade maybe."

Grace held back a small smile, finding the banter between the two oddly endearing. But her amusement was short-lived as the chaos in the kitchen continued to unfold around them.

"Um, guys?" Grace interjected, gesturing at the flying cookware. "The utensils?"

Lydia nodded, handing Grace one of the bats. "Right, here. Hit the animated objects with these - it'll put them to sleep."

Grace stared at them, "Wait, what—?""Observe." Jared stood up and walked out of the safety behind the counter, he positioned himself, steeled in his grip then hit the flying set of pans creating an unpleasant ring of clang. Immediately they dropped to the ground and looked as still as a frozen statue, Jared leaned against the bat's handle, "And that's how you put'em to sleep."

"Huh.." She observed carefully to the side but gasped, "Hey look out!"

"Huh?" Too late, Jared's face was already hit with a pie, he flung and landed hard against the counter, no doubt creating some industrial damage to the wooden furniture. "Oww…"

Lydia and her winced at that, "Wow okay, uh," Grace turned to the little woman, "do you by any chance have a box?