Bianca was simply added to the list of missing maids, her disappearance quickly forgotten as another maid took her place in the castle. As usual, soldiers were sent out to search for Ottoman involvement in the cold-blooded murder. Within a couple of weeks, the story of Bianca had vanished from memory.
Months passed, and the castle now gleamed under its fresh coat of snow. It was the season for Santa’s ride, a time for gifts and the scent of fresh-baked bread to fill the air.
Both the castle and village huts were adorned with colorful decorations. The castle walls were draped with long, flowing red and white cloths. A massive pine tree stood in the castle’s main hall, carefully decorated by two servants and a maid, who were also tasked with guarding it.
Wreaths of various sizes hung on the castle doors, with candles and lanterns lighting every corner. The pantries overflowed with the smell of fresh bread and the rich flavors of cakes. Aged wine, delivered on horse-drawn carriages by villagers and neighboring lords, filled the cellar in large barrels, to be served to guests on Christmas Eve.
Meanwhile, music bands prepared their instruments for the evening gathering. The carolers' playlist featured classic hymns like "Veni redemptor gentium" and "Corde natus ex Parentis." These songs, originally communal folk tunes sung during celebrations like harvest time, had become a strong tradition of Christmas music.
A church stood between the forest and the castle, its stone structure nearly 75 years old. Inside, the wooden and glass interior—a classic blend of European woodcraft and Hungarian stained glass—was covered in snow that blanketed its domes.
During festival times, certain villages were forbidden from attending, their worship confined to the summer months. Iron materials used for the installation of the cross and nails on Jesus’ feet had rusted, left uncared for and neglected.
The interior of the church was meticulously decorated with various models depicting the story of Jesus' birth and nativity, displayed in different sizes and scenes. The final installation was a large model portraying the Resurrection of Jesus.
Since there weren’t many celebrations throughout the year, the Pope and other clergy were invited only during festival times. The church’s services and maintenance were handled entirely by the nuns.
Although Ranavalona believed in baptism, she celebrated Christmas with grandeur. She used the occasion to strengthen alliances with neighboring lords, forging agreements for trade and war contracts. Her strategic relationships ensured a strong defense for her castle and the villages under her rule. Few questioned Ranavalona’s decisions—some because they trusted her, others out of fear of her knowledge of witchcraft and military might.
Before the common people were allowed to enter the church for prayers, Ranavalona had a scheduled private visit. Sister Mary Beckett, who had just turned 22 the previous month, had been serving at the church since she was abandoned by her mother at the age of 3. She was raised with love and care by the other sisters who had served there before her. Sister Beckett had recently taken over the responsibilities of Sister Anna, who had been in charge of managing the church.
At the appointed time, Ranavalona visited the church, spending a few minutes in conversation with Sister Beckett. She wished everyone a Merry Christmas in Hebrew before departing for the castle, where she was to host a grand Christmas feast for her guests.
After her departure, villagers visited the church to pay their respects and offer prayers. A prayer session was led by the pastor, and the gathering ended with the ringing of the second bell from the castle.
However, three days after Christmas Eve, a terrifying sight unfolded. Droplets of blood were found splattered on the ground beneath the feet of Jesus, where he was nailed to the cross. Sister Beckett was discovered dead—her body gruesomely nailed to the back of the cross, mimicking the crucifixion of Jesus many years ago.
Comments
Post a Comment