Just like humans, for the Bloodkin, eating is also an act of enjoyment.
It’s just that before, in order to avoid the patrols of the Sheriff, Hill always hurried through her meals, and the blood of those drunkards and scavengers was nothing worth savoring anyway.
But today was different.
Hill had never tasted a person’s blood so carefully, so attentively, as she did now.
Aside from the fact that Otis was a maiden untouched by worldly matters—her blood naturally exquisite in flavor—the quiet, peaceful environment, and the reassuring source of food, were all part of the experience.
The entire process lasted half an hour.
Compared to the complicated and bloated dining etiquette of human nobles, this amount of time was nothing at all.
Hill opened her rose-colored eyes; within her pupils, it seemed, a brilliant tinge of fresh blood still lingered.
For the first time, this was the very first time she had ever eaten to such satisfaction.
Hill even uncharacteristically opened her mouth and let out a burp.
Of course, the breath she exhaled was sweet and fragrant, laced with a hint of a maiden’s scent, and the metallic sweetness of blood.
After lingering a moment in the aftertaste of her meal, Hill turned her attention to Otis, who was still sprawled across her.
Perhaps because she’d indulged herself too deeply and had lost track of the amount of toxin injected, the girl had fainted.
The girl’s steady breathing in Hill’s ears sounded as heavenly as music.
To this girl who could say, “I’m willing to become your food,” Hill was willing to offer infinite leniency.
And from now on, their relationship would likely be more than just ordinary friends or classmates.
It would become something even closer, deeper, and more unspeakable.
So, what exactly should she call this kind of relationship?
Bosom friends? Or… lovers?
Having lived two lives, Hill was still an innocent child at heart.
When the concept of “lover” flashed through her mind, her reaction was no more at ease than Otis’s would have been.
Reflecting on the meal just now, it really did seem rather ambiguous.
Their skins pressed so closely together, each calling out the other’s name, the distance between them had dropped to a negative number, thanks to those fangs meant for drinking blood.
Anyone, even a fool, would know what it meant to have that kind of contact with a blossoming young girl.
Hill was not a fool, nor was she emotionally slow; she was simply a bit withdrawn due to experiences from her past life, forced to maintain an outgoing façade to protect her public identity.
It was a torment.
Even if she really did get to live the peaceful life she dreamed of, would she still have to spend her days alone, just as in her previous life?
The lifespan of a Bloodkin was far longer than that of a human, especially after advancing through the Sequences and becoming a Transcendent.
Transcendents did not inherently gain longevity, but every Sequence had its own way to extend life.
For example, as a Magician—Teacher Inks had mentioned in her manuscript that the Sequence II of the Apprentice Sequence was called “Alchemist.”
As the name implied, it meant a magician who had mastered alchemy.
From what Hill imagined about alchemy, there must be countless ways to prolong one’s life—though the process probably left much to be desired.
So, would she have to choose solitude throughout such a long existence?
As a Bloodkin, who would accompany her through those years?
Otis?
Hill couldn’t bear the thought.
Otis was just an ordinary girl, after all; if she didn’t become a Transcendent, their companionship would ultimately become a lifelong regret.
She sighed.
In the end, she felt it was still too early to worry about such things.
The sunlight outside was just right.
Hill, though not afraid of sunlight and certainly not to the point of dying from it, still found herself deeply averse to it.
Just as many people hated the rainy season, she hated dryness, hated high temperatures, hated the sun beating down on her.
But as the sunlight from the window poured over Otis, Hill found herself dazed by the sight.
The girl’s open collar revealed large expanses of creamy white skin—delicate collarbones, a mysterious hollow… the brightness of spring—something that simply had to be admired.
Hill couldn’t help but swallow, unwilling to look away.
If her earlier feelings toward the girl had only been hunger, now there were other emotions stirring within her.
It was all the fault of her long-repressed soul from her previous life.
Now she was developing inappropriate feelings for the friend who had just helped her out.
Blushing furiously, Hill lowered her head, shame torturing her heart—yet her lower abdomen began to heat up of its own accord.
Time passed slowly.
Hill kept watch over the sleeping Otis.
What she didn’t expect was that the chapel would welcome another visitor at that very moment.
“Hi! Hill!”
Helena’s bright, lively figure flashed past the window and quickly entered the chapel, her movements as spirited as a woodland sprite.
Just being in the same air as this girl could make anyone feel happy.
She walked to the bedside and looked at Hill and Otis lying there, her big eyes full of confusion.
Hill discreetly tugged at the blanket to cover the two blood holes on Otis’s snowy neck, which were already starting to heal.
Because she’d injected a little too much toxin, Otis’s wound was healing especially quickly.
In another hour or two, it would be completely gone, but for now, Helena must not notice anything strange.
Although… this lively, somewhat scatterbrained girl might not have noticed anyway.
“Good afternoon, Helena.” Hill put on a calm face and smiled, “Shouldn’t classes be starting soon?”
“But I don’t want to go to that awful etiquette class.” Helena said a little pitifully.
As the daughter of a merchant, Helena had never received such strict education growing up.
Unfortunately, the Academy had an etiquette class every week.
From dress to dining etiquette, to all kinds of complicated social rituals, even the bewildering steps of ballroom dance.
Fortunately, in this life, Hill was no longer that clumsy fool; her memory was pretty good, and learning these things helped her keep up appearances, so she was happy to learn.
The etiquette teachers could find no fault with her posture or expressions; her dancing might not be graceful, but every step was perfect—no one could nitpick.
But for Helena, it was pure torture.
All those social courtesies and the nerve-rackingly complex steps…
“So you came to the chapel to slack off?”
“Aren’t you two slacking off too?” Helena retorted, then glanced at the sleeping Otis and belatedly covered her mouth. “Ah, sorry, I didn’t wake Otis up, did I?”
“Of course not.” Hill glanced down at the peaceful face, an unconscious smile appearing. “Our dear young lady is sleeping soundly.”
Helena looked puzzled. “But it was you, Hill, who said you weren’t feeling well in the cafeteria. Why is Otis the one asleep?”
“I really wasn’t feeling well at first, but Otis helped me in her own way, so now I look fine.”
“What way? Better than the priest’s holy healing?”
Like a curious kitten, Helena leaned in and lowered her voice.
“Uh, not as effective as the goddess’s power, but good enough. As you can see, I look fine now, don’t I?”
“That’s true.” Helena took out her rather valuable pocket watch, her face changing. “Class starts in three minutes! I’d better get back!”
“Hurry, then. I need to stay here and watch over Otis.”
Until the marks on Otis’s neck disappeared completely, she wouldn’t leave with an easy mind.
“All right.” Helena dashed out of the chapel, but before leaving, she called out, “It’s so cold now, Hill—you should help Otis button up her collar, or she might get sick!”
Eh?
Oh, right!
Hill felt awkward.
She’d just been admiring the view and actually forgot to redo the buttons on the girl’s collar.