What price would you pay for eternal youth? For Countess Elizabeth Báthory, the cost was measured in blood. Her day began not with the rising sun, but in the pre-dawn stillness of her bathing chamber, deep within the castle walls. Steam billowed from a great copper tub, carrying a metallic scent that clung to the damp stone. She would disrobe, her pale form a stark contrast to the crimson liqui...
