Sylvie had once read a line in a book that had somehow slipped into the penned district from the outside world.
“If vampires excel at displaying their arrogance and contempt, then humans excel at creating and concealing their secrets.”
“They pride themselves on believing that their blood livestock pens can eradicate all human nature, turning them into livestock that can only survive by relying on vampires.”
“But they often forget that this frozen city has always been shrouded in eternal night darkness, and beneath that darkness, humans are far better at hiding secrets than vampires.”
Sylvie deeply agreed with this, because even as a slave under the Queen’s skirt, she still had her own “secret.”
…
The streets of eternal night were forever permeated with the scent of blood and despair.
Sylvie pulled her cloak tighter, melting into the shadows. Her petite figure darted through the alleys. Occasionally, she would encounter others of her kind, but they merely lowered their heads, ignoring each other as they brushed past.
The deeper into the city one went, the more vampire patrols there were.
Sylvie kept her head down the entire way, silent, never meeting anyone’s gaze directly.
When some passing vampire enforcers deliberately drew close, she would subtly expose the crimson collar around her neck, and those vampires would obediently leave.
Until she stopped in front of a secluded small building in a deep alley corner.
This place was far from the main district, walls peeling, exuding an air of decay.
After confirming no one had followed her, Sylvie finally relaxed, removing her hood and carefully pushing open the creaking iron door before climbing the swaying stairs.
In view was a crude room, pitch-black, with only moonlight leaking through broken windows, outlining a figure curled up in the corner.
From the faint light, one could vaguely make out that it was a vampire.
She wore only a rough but barely clean linen gown.
Her silver-white hair had lost all its luster, scattered haphazardly behind her and on the floor. Those crimson eyes were dull like dead things, devoid of light. Yet even so, her stunning beauty remained undimmed.
She lay on her side, body slightly curled. If not for the faint rise and fall of her chest, one might truly mistake her for a corpse.
Sylvie stood at the doorway watching the scene, letting out a helpless sigh—she seemed quite used to it by now.
“The floor is quite cold, you know… Lady Cassia.”
Sylvie softened her voice, slowly stepping forward and crouching beside the curled figure, reaching out to help her up.
However, before her hand could touch, the figure that had seemed lifeless suddenly trembled. She raised those empty crimson eyes, gazing coldly at Sylvie.
That look held no gratitude, no warmth—only alienation that kept others a thousand miles away.
“…Don’t touch me.” A hoarse, dry voice squeezed from Cassia’s throat.
Sylvie’s outstretched hand paused for a moment, then continued regardless, lifting Cassia’s body into her arms.
“I said… stay away from me…” Her voice deepened, laced with deep disgust and displeasure.
Yet Sylvie responded as if it were nothing.
“Lady Cassia lying on the floor all the time troubles me greatly. If your clothes get dirty, I’ll have to wash them again… Water is expensive here.”
As she spoke, she gently placed Cassia’s broken body onto the bed.
The movement was skilled and natural, as if merely caring for a sulky family member rather than serving a vampire who, even in ruin, still exuded an icy aura.
Cassia said nothing more—or rather, once on the bed, she simply turned her head away, letting her silver hair fall to obscure her face, falling silent.
Sylvie watched this, merely sighing helplessly once more.
“Well, same as always…”
She sat on the edge of Cassia’s bed, then pulled out a wooden cup from behind her along with a sharp stone dagger.
Moonlight glinted coldly off the rough stone blade…
She rolled up her sleeve. Beneath the black cloak, her slender arm was wrapped in coarse white gauze, faintly stained with red.
Expressionless, she unwound the gauze circle by circle. The faint rustling of fabric was especially clear in the silent room.
Perhaps unable to bear the quiet, Sylvie spoke, asking casually.
“It’s gotten a bit colder lately. Do you feel cold, Lady Cassia? Should Sylvie bring you some thicker bedding?”
“…”
The response was still icy silence, as if the air itself had frozen.
Sylvie had expected as much—she hadn’t hoped for an answer.
Her gaze fell on Cassia’s pale little hand hanging limply at her side. She hesitated, then extremely gently—and carefully—placed her own hand over that icy palm.
The hand was cold without a trace of vitality, and… limp, showing no instinct to move, soft enough to be manipulated at will.
Cassia seemed to notice the touch. Her brows, hidden by silver hair, furrowed imperceptibly, but she did not turn back or attempt to pull away—in truth, she couldn’t.
She simply maintained her turned-away posture, allowing Sylvie’s warm palm to envelop her numb, ruined hand.
Even though vampire bodies were cold, Sylvie still keenly sensed… this hand was cooler than usual.
A smile touched her lips.
“I understand.” She promised softly.
Then, Sylvie picked up the dagger. The stone blade lightly pressed against her scarred arm, easily slicing through skin not yet healed. A trickle of fresh blood slowly seeped from the wound.
She took the cup, turning her arm to let the blood drip in one by one.
Drip… drip… drip…
The soft sounds of falling blood echoed in the silent room.
Sylvie stared at the rising liquid in the cup, lost in thought, her lowered eyes pondering something unknown.
She looked at her reflection in the blood’s surface—more haggard and pale than before, like someone terminally ill on the verge of death.
About half a cup later, Sylvie finally withdrew her hand.
“Done.” She said softly, pressing the gauze to the wound.
Her vision darkened from excessive blood loss, her head light and floating.
Sylvie looked at Cassia, who had her back turned, and called once more.
“Lady Cassia, it’s ready. It won’t taste good if it gets cold.”
Cassia offered no cold response—of course, Sylvie hadn’t expected one.
She helped Cassia’s icy body sit up. The latter muttered hoarsely again.
“Don’t touch…”
“Yes, yes. I’ll leave right after you drink. I won’t disturb you further.” Sylvie cut in first.
When she brought the wooden cup to Cassia’s lips, the latter merely pressed them tight, then turned her head away like a sulky child, silver strands hiding half her face.
Sylvie sighed.
“If you don’t drink, I’ll give it to some other vampire on the street… Might even trade it for some food.”
This finally elicited a reaction from Cassia.
She slowly turned her head back toward Sylvie. The latter extended her hand. Those crimson eyes, faintly obscured by silver hair, carried clear displeasure—even bordering on… warning.
Sylvie felt even more helpless.
See? She gets upset if you don’t give it to her either.
“Then, to avoid wasting precious blood, the esteemed Lady Cassia should graciously drink this cup.” Sylvie said with a smile, exaggeratedly.
She brought the rim to Cassia’s mouth. The latter finally stopped resisting, parting her lips slightly.
Glug… glug… glug…
The dark red liquid slowly flowed between pale lips, a few drops trickling down the corners.
When the last drop was consumed, Cassia let out a deep, deep breath laced with the metallic tang of blood.
“Then, I’ll be going now. Tomorrow night, I’ll bring you a thicker blanket.” Sylvie said, preparing to leave.
But just then, a faint voice squeezed from Cassia’s throat.
“…Not enough.”
“Eh?”
Thud…
Before Sylvie could react, she was suddenly pinned down on the cold bed, the back of her head striking the wood with a dull sound.
In the clear moonlight, Cassia’s stunning face loomed closer, becoming even more breathtakingly intense. Silver hair cascaded like a waterfall, forming a private world that enveloped them both.
Yet in those crimson eyes mere inches away flickered a strange, dangerous light named hunger and greed.
The sudden change stunned Sylvie for a moment. Regaining her senses, she panicked, hurriedly waving her hands in refusal.
“Wait! No, Lady Cassia! If the Queen sees—mmph!”
Sylvie’s protest cut off abruptly, for those sharp fangs glinting coldly had already pierced her neck without room for refusal.
Gulp… gulp… gulp…
What followed was a longer, more frenzied swallowing.
Sylvie instinctively tried to resist, but weakened from blood loss, she couldn’t muster strength. In the end, she could only lie there obediently, resigned.
Great.
She still had to serve the Queen later.
Tonight was going to be rough…
…
The prolonged taking finally ended.
Cassia let out a satisfied sigh by her ear.
Sylvie shakily rose from the bed with difficulty. Her face was even paler than before, expression haggard and exhausted. Even standing straight, excessive blood loss made her vision black and blurry, her consciousness swaying unsteadily.
“Not good…”
“I think… I overdid it…”
“I need to get back and rest soon…”
“Then, Lady Cassia… I’ll head… back…”
Thud…
Before Sylvie could finish, her vision went dark. Her legs gave out suddenly, and she collapsed like a puppet with cut strings.
The scene before her grew dim, but then a soft sensation came from behind.
In her blurring vision, she vaguely saw Cassia’s face lowered, looking at her.
Sylvie instinctively tried to stand, but her body wouldn’t respond.
“I’m sorry… Can I… lie here for a bit… I need… to rest a moment… It’ll be quick…”
Sylvie’s weak, intermittent voice came. She forced an apologetic smile on her face. Then, without waiting for Cassia’s response, she closed her heavy eyelids, breathing faintly.
“…”
Moonlight poured in, illuminating Sylvie’s already pale face to look even more worn. She lay with eyes closed, breathing weakly, as if she might stop at any second.
And in the direction her fading vision couldn’t capture, Cassia’s eyes—always frosted over—trembled slightly.
Swirling within them was unmistakable worry and panic.
Time fell silent in this moment…
Cassia’s gaze unconsciously drifted toward… Sylvie’s slightly curled hand.
An inexplicable desire arose…
She instinctively tried to move her hands, only to remember once more that she was now a complete cripple.
She furrowed her brows in pain, complex emotions beyond understanding raging deep in her heart…
“Ah… How pathetic, Cassia.” Her voice echoed layer by layer in the darkness as her memories… were slowly awakened.