…
Utia’s proposal hung in the air, stirring turbulent waves of emotion in Cassia’s heart.
She lowered her head, silver hair cascading to veil her profile, crimson eyes fixed on her pale, powerless legs.
The room was terrifyingly quiet, every breath clearly audible.
Outside the window, the only moonlight had been swallowed by clouds at some point, plunging the room into deeper darkness. Only the faint glow of their crimson eyes flickered dimly.
Revenge.
The thought she had never abandoned now grew wildly like vines.
Klal’s face, those days and nights of trampling… All the humiliating scenes surged in her mind.
Utia stood quietly by the window, a faint smile playing on her lips.
Time passed in silence.
“Is this such a difficult choice?” Utia’s frivolous voice broke the darkness, laced with deliberate temptation—like a demon’s whisper.
“Think about it, Cassia. You only need to pay a tiny, insignificant price to regain your power. It’s a deal where you can’t lose.”
“Why hesitate? You are Cassia Fironiya… the arrogant, powerful Queen who scorned everything.”
“The old you could slaughter an entire city without batting an eye.” She stepped closer, cruel memories glinting in her crimson eyes.
“The northern human territories, the southern allied forces… You wiped out nearly a million humans just because you disliked the way they looked at you. Their dying wails still echo in some corners. That ‘Great Purge’—I remember it vividly to this day.”
She stopped at the bedside, looming over Cassia.
“For you… there shouldn’t be anything that can’t be ‘sacrificed,’ right, Cassia?”
Utia’s whispers echoed layer by layer in the darkness, spine-chillingly malicious and low.
Finally, Cassia slowly raised her head, complex light flickering in her crimson eyes amid the gloom.
“…Why help me? I don’t believe you’d kindly wish for me to regain my power.” Her voice was hoarser than before.
The smile on Utia’s face remained unchanged as she tilted her head and asked.
“Does it matter?”
“Answer me…”
“…”
The air in the room seemed to freeze instantly. Utia’s smile slowly faded, her beautiful face twisting into something nearly ferocious, chilling hatred burning in her crimson eyes.
“Because…” Her voice was soft, yet suppressed like a curse.
“I hate Klal…”
“I want to drag her from that throne, make her taste every pain I’ve endured.” Tangible hatred hid in her words.
“Those torments she called affection, those humiliations she named games—I want to return them to her a hundredfold, a thousandfold.”
“I hate her, Cassia—more than you do! I want her soul and arrogance reduced to ashes more than you!”
“Is this reason… satisfactory?”
——————
In the cramped room, candle flames flickered weakly, casting light and shadow across Nia and Sylvie’s grave faces.
Inside, the children slept deeply. Only Lynla sat obediently like a kitten in Sylvie’s lap—or rather, clung to her like an octopus.
Nia deliberately kept her voice low to avoid disturbing the children’s sleep, yet it was filled with deep worry.
“Little Sylvie, what exactly happened these past few days? Why haven’t we seen you for so long?”
Sylvie paused for a moment before replying casually.
“I made a careless mistake and was… confined by the Queen for a few days.”
“Just confined?” Nia asked worriedly.
Sylvie nodded, smiling ambiguously.
“Liar!” Lynla suddenly shouted from her arms.
“Sylvie is lying! Your neck never had bite marks before! But today there are such big ones! It must have been that bad woman!”
The little girl’s voice rang out clearly in the quiet room. The other sleeping children frowned, turned over with faint whimpers, then sank back into deep slumber.
Sylvie instinctively raised a hand to cover it, but Lynla gently pulled it down. Tears welled in her large amber eyes.
“Does it… hurt?”
The simple question stunned Sylvie. She pulled Lynla tightly into her embrace, burying her face in the child’s soft hair.
“It doesn’t hurt… It stopped hurting long ago.”
Nia silently reached out, heartbroken and wanting to touch, but paused and withdrew her hand reluctantly.
“Little Sylvie… If something’s painful or upsetting, tell us. Don’t always hide it.”
Nia’s voice was gentle, trembling with sincerity.
“You’re always like this—habitually burying everything inside, wearing that nonchalant mask, smiling at us, being gentle, shouldering all the pain alone.”
She gently took Sylvie’s hand.
“But here, there’s no Queen, no vampires—just us. You can cry, you can be angry, you don’t always have to be so strong.”
As she spoke softly, her fingers tried to naturally intertwine, but Sylvie withdrew her hand first.
She merely replied quietly.
“I’ll try.”
“…”
Nia’s hand lingered in the air, fingertips curling slightly before silently dropping to her knee.
The flickering candle cast shadows over her face, hiding the fleeting disappointment in her eyes.
Still no good…
She sighed softly inwardly.
I finally mustered the courage…
Yet that invisible wall still stood between them.
Nia’s fingertips unconsciously rubbed the rough fabric of her skirt, feeling the lingering cool touch of Sylvie’s wrist in her palm.
She’s always like this… gently pushing everyone away.
The strange, awkward atmosphere didn’t last long. She hurriedly changed the subject.
“Lately, there are more and more vampire enforcers outside. I hear it’s because… humans have entered from the outside. Is that true?”
“Yes… Apparently to seize something back from the vampires.” Sylvie answered honestly, wrapping her arms around the soft body in her lap, her expression unconsciously softening.
“Seize back… something…” Nia repeated slowly, her tone laced with disappointment.
“Not… not to drive out the vampires, liberate the blood livestock here?”
Sylvie shook her head helplessly.
“What are you thinking? The Vampire Queen is here. No matter how strong a few humans are, they couldn’t possibly defeat her.”
Moreover, just Sulga and Utia—these “noble” vampires—were already overwhelmingly powerful. Liberation?
Better to think about surviving until tomorrow…
Nia’s eyelids drooped unconsciously, her hands fidgeting.
She murmured.
“What if… we met those humans, and I begged them—could they take the children and leave here, return to human society…”
Sylvie looked up at Nia, whose face was full of hope yet immense hesitation.
“Nia, don’t do anything stupid.” She said calmly, hugging Lynla tighter.
“Even if you really met those humans, why would you trust they’d help us? We’re just blood livestock—to them… we might not even count as fellow humans.”
“I know… I know…” Nia’s voice fell low.
Glancing at the silver moon through the window, Sylvie sighed. She expended great effort to peel the clinging Lynla off, then stood.
“It’s getting late. I should head back, or the Queen will punish me again… I’m relieved to see you’re all safe…”
Knock knock knock…
Before she could finish.
The door outside was knocked on…
Sylvie’s words stopped abruptly. She looked at Nia in confusion, receiving an uneasy, equally puzzled gaze in return. Nia whispered.
“The children are all asleep at this hour… No one knows this place except you, little Sylvie.”
Knock… knock… knock…
The door was knocked again, heavier this time, as if urging them.
Nia swallowed.
“I’ll go open it…”
She stood hurriedly but was pressed back by Sylvie.
“Watch Lynla and the children. I’ll go.” She said calmly.
“Wait, little Sylvie…”
Before Nia could agree, Sylvie walked out on her own, closing the door behind her.
Knock knock knock…
Sylvie took a deep breath and gently pushed open the creaking wooden door.
Upon seeing the figure outside, her expression shifted from surprise to confusion, then all emotions receded, restoring that gentle yet distant mask.
Only this time, deeper in those emerald eyes lurked a subtle, imperceptible shadow and wariness.
“Lady Utia.” Sylvie bowed slightly, her voice calm without a ripple.
“Why are you here?”
Utia—that woman she despised to the core—stood outside, moonlight outlining her hazy silhouette behind her.
Her crimson eyes narrowed as she appraised Sylvie up and down, that meaningful, unsettling eerie smile still on her lips.
“What? Not welcoming big sister? Heh heh heh~”