Listening to secrets that friends are unwilling to share with others.
This wasn’t the first time Otis had experienced something like this. Many noble ladies in Noelcan Town kept up their shining appearances on the surface, but behind closed doors, each hid an unknown side.
Miss Noelva, whose family traded in spices, was actually born with a nasal ailment. Any strong scents, like cold air—or even the family’s own prideful spices—would trigger allergic reactions of varying severity.
The mild symptoms would show as rashes on her neck, underarms, and even her face, looking so frightful it was as if she had been cursed by a witch. This innocent and romantic young lady often agonized over it, and had even once thought of ending her life.
Then there was Miss Histina, whose father ran a horse ranch outside of town, building his reputation by renting horses and carriages. He was also a well-known merchant in the area. Miss Histina’s father always wanted to marry off his only daughter to a noble family in the neighboring town, hoping to expand his own business through an alliance.
Unfortunately, Miss Histina had absolutely no interest in her prospective fiancé—a good-for-nothing second son, rumored to be so overweight that he couldn’t even ride a horse, with countless ambiguous ties to various bar girls. Only in private, when meeting with Otis, would Miss Histina mention these things. Each time, she would break down in tears, despairing over her future.
Besides these two girls, Otis, in her role as a listener, had heard many other young ladies’ secrets—some regretful, some vexed, some shy, some painful. She prided herself on her proper noble upbringing, and would never willingly reveal those secrets to anyone else.
So…
Did Hill also have secrets she couldn’t share with others?
Was it memories of her deceased parents?
Regret over her family’s downfall?
Or the embarrassment of her current impoverished life?
For a moment, Otis didn’t even realize how ambiguous her posture with Hill was. Her mind was occupied with what expression, what mood, what words she should use to comfort the other girl.
As for Hill, though she was starving at this very moment, she hadn’t yet lost her sanity. If she stopped now, said, “This is just friends fooling around,” perhaps there was still a chance to turn things back.
But thinking carefully, last night could be chalked up to bad luck, but what if this was the true normal for those outcast beings who hunted in the shadows?
Even the most seasoned, most experienced hunter could not guarantee they would catch enough prey every time they entered the mountains.
For a long time, Hill had barely tasted hunger, but in reality, hunger and torment were the norm for most outcasts lurking within the town.
Now, perhaps her “newcomer protection period” was over. Or perhaps the Goddess thought she ought to rely on her own strength to hunt more worthwhile prey.
The filthy blood of threats and scavengers provided pitifully little nourishment, which was plain to see even from the experience gained. But to avoid attracting the attention of the sheriff, she only ever took two bites at most each time…
Maybe it was time to have a blood bag of her own.
Hill looked down from above at Otis, whose eyes were wandering, and couldn’t help but let out a soft laugh.
This adorable child didn’t even realize what earth-shattering secret she would soon hear from Hill’s own lips.
Still has time to be distracted?
Hill’s heart softened; she still had one last chance to back out, one last opportunity to dismiss everything as a joke…
“Hill.” Otis’s sweet little head must have gone through a whirlwind just now, but at this moment, this pampered noble lady’s eyes shone with a determination rivaling that of any knight. She spoke clearly: “No matter what secret you have, as your friend, I am willing to listen and try to understand. Whatever you need, I am willing to fulfill, and I will never… mm!”
Before Otis could finish her knightly declaration, Hill suddenly took a deep breath, her arms—until now supporting her weight—gave way, and the next instant, she collapsed right onto Otis.
The sudden movement startled Otis; their cheeks were now pressed together with zero distance between. Only now did she realize just how cold Hill’s skin really was!
Brown hair brushed her nose, carrying a faint fragrance—but beneath that, she detected… an agitated scent?
This sort of emotional scent wasn’t something most people could smell, but Otis seemed to have a special talent.
She felt a little lost; her resolute oath from moments before was already thrown to the back of her mind. Now, she cared only for her friend Hill’s current state.
“Hill, are you alri—”
“Otis Montbatten.” Hill interrupted her, lifting her head slightly. In her somewhat dim rose-colored eyes was reflected the girl’s helpless face: “Are you really prepared to hear the secret I’m about to reveal? And just as you said, to try to fulfill whatever need I might have?”
Indeed, Otis had never expected that her promise to comfort her friend would become the last straw crushing Hill’s reason.
She’s willing to accept me… She’s willing to understand me… She’s willing to accept everything about me…
Hill, an outcast always trying to blend into human society, suddenly felt an urge to cry. Her heart pounded as if it might burst out of her chest at any moment, just to embrace this girl.
Her veins carried not only blood foreign to humans, but within this body also hid a soul from another world.
A soul that was self-conscious, shy, yearning for warmth yet afraid of the light.
Prayers and faith to the Goddess had been Hill’s only solace in the past.
But now, she might have found another person to rely on—even if that person was just an ordinary girl her own age, fragile enough to need careful protection.
But Hill had made up her mind. Word by word, she said: “Otis, after hearing my secret, you can take back anything you just said. But after this, I will leave this town. Perhaps this will be our last meeting.”
Could it really be this serious?
Otis blinked, a little panicked. Hill’s secret—could it be that she made a contract with a demon or something?
Hill, seeing Otis’s adorable, stunned reaction, actually felt less nervous. She calmly revealed her true identity:
“Not a human, but a bloodkin.”
Huh?
The air in the chapel seemed to freeze. The cold wind, like a mischievous child, kept pounding against the tightly shut windows.
Thud! Thud! Thud! Thud! Thud-thud!
Otis’s mind went blank. The few simple words became garbled, unprocessable information inside her head.
Who knows how long passed before she forced a smile: “Hill, you’re joking… right?”
Hill opened her mouth, showing her fangs, pressing them against her lips. The pale white and rosy pink made for a sharp contrast.
Otis had more words of self-deception to say, but upon seeing this, she swallowed them all.
The legends described bloodkin as having scarlet eyes, retractable sharp fangs and claws, deathly pale skin and hair, always thirsting for blood—human-shaped bloodthirsty beasts!
Such tales and the pitiful girl clinging to her now couldn’t have been more different. But Otis trusted Hill’s words, believing that after so much struggle and hesitation, her friend could only be telling the truth.
A silent realization echoed within her: Hill really was a bloodkin!
Hill continued: “And, Otis, I’m very hungry right now.”
Otis’s voice carried an obvious tremor as she asked carefully, “You want to drink my blood?”
“I really didn’t want to bite a friend.” Hill said, her face full of grievance, and a repression bordering on desperation: “I don’t want to destroy this hard-won friendship, much less see you as food. Everything was fine before—even living off the blood of scavengers and drunkards, I could survive. But… I haven’t eaten for days.”
With eyes full of pleading and fear, she looked at Otis: “I’m so hungry, hungry enough to go mad…”
“Otis, please, help me?”
Time seemed to slow infinitely at that moment. After speaking, Hill was completely drained. Besides hunger, she also felt as though a heavy stone she had borne for ages had suddenly been lifted from her shoulders—not relief, but a breathless exhaustion.
So, how much time had passed?
A few seconds, a few minutes? Or even hours?
Hill held herself back, inhaling the scent of the girl beneath her, resisting the urge to imagine the taste of Otis’s blood.
Maybe next, Otis would shout in horror and disgust: You damnable, despicable creature, fit only to skulk in the night—get off me and out of my sight, disappear from my life forever!
Or maybe, this not-so-strong girl would just shake her head frantically, use her weak arms to try and push her away, then run from the chapel in panic. Hill’s secret would be spread around the academy, then the whole town.
But instead, Otis parted her lips, and with a soft yet firm voice, said:
“You can.”
Hill’s expression froze, blank and stiff.
What had she just said?
Otis said: “I’m willing to become your food, Hill.”