“Mm…”
Cassia suddenly opened her eyes, jolted awake from that warm dream.
Her blurred vision gradually focused. She was still lying in bed, and her right hand was tightly held by a pair of slender small hands.
As her gaze followed those hands upward, her heart involuntarily clenched.
Sylvie was kneeling by the bedside, her pale little face etched with worry. The girl’s other hand was pressed to Cassia’s lips, a fresh bite mark on her slender wrist allowing warm blood to slowly flow into Cassia’s parched throat.
“I made it…” Sylvie’s voice was weak yet filled with unconcealed joy. Tears of concern glistened at the corners of her eyes as she let out a deep sigh of relief.
“I finally… made it.”
Cassia instinctively tried to push her hand away, only to find her body powerless from prolonged hunger.
She could only watch as the girl continued to feed her, those emerald eyes brimming with the concern Cassia knew all too well.
“Who allowed you…” Cassia’s voice was hoarse, but it caught in her throat the moment their gazes met.
In that instant, dream and reality overlapped.
The silver-haired girl clumsily licking her wounds in the rain perfectly merged with the black-haired girl before her now.
She stared blankly for a moment before turning her head away, moving the still-bleeding wrist from her lips.
“Enough.” Her voice remained weak, yet laced with complex, indescribable emotions.
“I… don’t ‘need’ it.”
Sylvie pressed her fingers to her wrist, assuming Cassia was angry about her sudden disappearance. She apologized softly.
“I’m sorry, Lady Cassia. The past few days… I ran into some trouble and couldn’t come sooner. I’m truly… so sorry.”
Ran into some trouble…
Cassia’s gaze trailed down the girl’s face, landing starkly on her slender neck where two fang marks—not her own—glared accusingly.
They still carried the revolting scent of that woman Klal.
A nameless rage surged through her instantly.
“What did she… do to you?”
Cassia’s voice darkened as she stared fixedly at the pair of puncture wounds, humiliating memories inevitably flooding back.
The girl’s face was already unnaturally pale from blood loss, made worse by her nonstop sprint here.
“Just… punished by my master.” Sylvie replied softly, her tone heavy with exhaustion.
She tugged at her collar, trying to hide the marks on her neck.
“It’s common. Only this time, my master was exceptionally angry.”
“…”
Cassia fell into prolonged silence.
She simply stared at those glaring marks, deep vortices swirling in her crimson eyes.
The room was so quiet that Sylvie’s faint breathing could be heard.
This silence felt suffocating.
Yes…
Sylvie had long since changed.
Her body was now covered in the revolting marks of that woman Klal.
Cassia glanced sideways, gazing at this familiar yet unfamiliar face.
Those eyes, long changed in color, remained clear, yet no longer looked directly at her without reservation as before.
Now, they habitually lowered slightly, submissive and compliant—like any blood livestock, thoroughly tamed.
Her expression remained gentle, yet always as if behind a mask. Even when she smiled at Cassia or occasionally opened her heart.
Cassia could still sense it—that innocence long eroded by vigilance and caution.
The silver-haired girl who had followed her like a naive cub in the rain had been erased by time and that woman’s training.
The current Sylvie was like a refinished work of art, every part bearing the new master’s imprint.
Only the concern leaking from those emerald eyes retained faint traces of the past.
Truly… revolting.
Cassia sneered inwardly, unsure if she mocked Klal’s possessiveness or herself for still feeling anger over it.
You shouldn’t care about this, Cassia. A cold voice echoed in her mind.
Because you’ve only ever seen her as a convenient tool, an obedient pet.
Cassia’s crimson eyes grew darker.
Tools need no past.
Pets should retain no memories.
She didn’t care if this blood servant had changed, didn’t care if those eyes still held their former light.
Because she neither needed nor deigned to consider what losing this insignificant blood servant might mean to her.
The current Sylvie was merely a tool for revenge—one that could help her stand again! Bare her fangs and claws once more! A disposable “tool” to be sacrificed at will!
She forced herself to look away, no longer gazing at those glaring marks on Sylvie’s neck.
Even those fang marks… proclaimed ownership.
I don’t care…
“…” Cassia’s thoughts settled, silence still spreading.
As if unable to bear the eerie quiet any longer, Sylvie smiled awkwardly and changed the subject.
“Um, Lady Cassia, you must be hungry, right? I brought fresh blood provisions…”
She fumbled hurriedly in her cloth bag for a silver flask, but her wrist trembled from weakness as she handed it over, a few blood droplets seeping from the wound.
Almost instinctively, Sylvie lowered her head and gently licked the blood from her wrist. The motion was natural and practiced.
Cassia froze at the sight.
“Ah…”
Noticing Cassia’s gaze, Sylvie explained embarrassedly.
“Sorry, I often handle wounds this way… I don’t even know when I picked up the habit.”
She smiled sheepishly.
“It just… gives me a strange sense of comfort.”
“…”
But… she’s still… the same as before… foolish, like a young beast.
Cassia’s crimson eyes trembled faintly. Vaguely, she seemed to feel that long-ago warm touch as the girl clumsily cleaned her blood and wounds.
She turned her face away, silver hair veiling her current expression.
“…A foolish habit.” She said coldly.
Sylvie touched her head even more sheepishly.
“I know it’s not very elegant…”
Truly… foolish.
…
An hour later, Sylvie emerged from Cassia’s place.
Perhaps because of her inexplicable three-day absence, today’s Cassia seemed colder than usual, even more unapproachable.
She hadn’t fed in three days—aside from the emergency blood Sylvie gave while unconscious. Yet upon waking and seeing Sylvie’s face, she refused to drink more.
Outside, the cloaked Sylvie lowered her head, glancing at the nearly scabbed wound on her wrist. She let out a helpless, aggrieved sigh.
“Nn… Am I really that repulsive?”
Raising her head to the sky, the silver moon hung high—marking midday.
Though she usually only visited at night for caution, she hadn’t brought food to Nia and the others in far too long.
The children… must be starving.
She tightened her cloak without hesitation and ran toward the familiar route.
After all this, she had to return to the Queen’s side before Klal realized she was awake.
Time was tight, tasks heavy!
Sylvie’s figure vanished into the alley.
Behind her, the shadow that had lingered in the darkness finally stepped out at a leisurely pace.
A meaningful smile curved its lips as it looked up at the building hiding Cassia, then walked straight toward it without pause.
…
In the room, Cassia remained in the same position as when Sylvie left, silver hair drooping to veil her profile, lost in thought.
She closed her eyes, trying to bury those unwarranted emotions deep in her heart. In this world full of betrayal, any soft hesitation was deadly poison.
Then…
Cassia’s brows furrowed in displeasure. When she opened her eyes, any unnoticed softness in her crimson gaze was once more encased in ice.
“You’re not welcome here… Utia.”
“Ara~” A lazy, teasing voice emerged from the shadows.
“After so long, you’re still so cold, my dear…”
A graceful figure slowly materialized from the corner. Utia leaned against the doorframe, playful light gleaming in her crimson eyes.
She idly toyed with a strand of her silver hair, yet her gaze locked onto Cassia like a venomous snake. Narrowing her eyes, she teased.
“Queen…”