After the store closed, Sir Kai approached the rchant to ask for permission to spend the day out.
The rchant, a man uninterested in anything that didn’t involve his profits, barely looked up from his accounts. Since Sir Kai’s absence wouldn’t affect his bottom line, he waved him off with a grunt of approval.
Earlier, Sir Kai had carefully noted the direction the two maids had taken after their conversation. He slipped out of the store to follow their trail.
He stayed far enough behind to avoid detection but close enough to track their movents, eventually pinpointing the manor where they worked.
With the sun high in the sky, Sir Kai lay hidden in the brush of the woods near the estate, his clothing shielding him from the sun’s harsh rays. From his vantage point, he observed the manor’s guards.
Their lax attitude wasn’t surprising—likely a combination of daylight complacency and their employer’s unusual preferences. This wasn’t a poor noble cutting costs on security; no, the relaxed vigilance seed deliberate.
A noble trying to avoid attention wouldn’t want an army of guards to draw curious eyes.
It made sense. For the first vampires, living quietly as minor nobles allowed them to enjoy comfort without the unwanted scrutiny that ca with wealth and power.
Sir Kai took his ti, inspecting every inch of the manor he could see from his hiding spot. Eventually, he spotted an opening—an opportunity to slip in unnoticed.
***
Lisbeth was assigned to guard Florian’s chamber. She wasn’t told the full story about the dark magic ritual, but Lady Maris made one thing clear: Florian had ties to demons.
The king’s mistress ordered her to ensure the young vampire didn’t leave his chambers under any circumstances.
By then, whispers about the vampire eater had already spread through the palace. So maids swore the creature was connected to the royal household itself. The rumors were chilling, and it didn’t take long for Lisbeth to start piecing things together.
She had already noticed that sothing was... off about Florian. Ever since his return to the palace, he was no longer the quiet, fragile boy she rembered.
The Florian who had left with his sister had been ek, almost invisible. He wouldn’t et anyone’s eyes, and he had never spoken a single word. Mute and submissive, he had seed harmless.
And the Florian who ca back was different. He spoke now, boldly and clearly, asking for things and making demands.
Lisbeth would never forget the mont Florian appeared. His face was shadowed and raw, his skin blistered by the rciless sun, yet he stood tall, unbroken.
His eyes—cold, predatory—burned with a fire that made her pulse quicken. For a fleeting second, she doubted it was him at all. This wasn’t the Florian she knew.
"Let in!" he said, his voice low and unfamiliar.
He talks? Lisbeth thought, startled. The sound of his voice had caught her so off guard that she couldn’t ask the question out loud.
"What are you staring at? Open the gate! NOW!" he nearly shouted.
The command sliced through the air like a whip, and Lisbeth flinched. Without thinking, she lifted her chin, signaling the guards. She felt their hesitation—she wasn’t the only one shaken by his presence.
"Where is Fangless?" she forced out, her voice quieter than she intended. It was the obvious question, but it hung in the air.
The sibling duo had always been inseparable, bound together in ways others could never understand. And yet, here he was—alone.
Sothing had happened. Sothing that had stripped Florian of whatever softness remained in him.
And as Lisbeth watched him step past the gate, she knew that whatever had unfolded during their escape from the royal palace, it had left a crack in the very core of who he was.
"Is it so hard to believe I can stand on my own two feet?" Florian’s voice was low, almost a growl, each word carrying a quiet nace. "Do I need soone else to hold up for you to see ?"
There was sothing wrong—not just in what he said, but how he said it. His voice was too steady, too cold, like ice cracking under pressure. It didn’t sound like him. Nothing about this fit the Florian she knew.
He stepped under the shadow of the palace canopy, and in one smooth, deliberate motion, stripped away the clothes that covered his sun-scarred skin. The gesture was unnervingly calm, almost ceremonial.
Now face to face, Florian looked down at her, his presence looming. She realized with a start that he was taller than her now, or maybe it was just the way he carried himself—so solid, so unshakable.
At first, Lisbeth wanted to believe this new confidence was a good thing. She almost admired it, thinking Riona had sohow helped him break free from whatever had kept him small. But as she held his gaze, a chill tightened around her lungs.
This wasn’t growth. This was sothing else—sothing darker. His transformation had stripped away more than his hesitation; it had hollowed him out, leaving a version of Florian that felt strange.
And that stranger smiled—just faintly—and it made her blood run cold.
***
Lisbeth carried a tray holding a single bowl of blood—Florian’s only al for the day. King Valentin had ordered his food intake to be reduced, believing that weakening the host’s body would suppress the demon’s power.
Lisbeth disagreed. Starving the demon would only sharpen its hunger, and hunger made monsters reckless. What if it turned its attention elsewhere—toward the town—and made another victim?
But the king’s word was law. No one, not even Lisbeth, could challenge it. So here she was, standing stiffly outside Florian’s chamber with the tray in her hands.
She hesitated. Her knuckles hovered over the door as countless thoughts crawled through her mind like spiders.
What if he attacked the mont she stepped inside? The image flashed before her eyes—Florian lunging, his movents quick and predatory, his face twisted into sothing horrible. She clenched her jaw, forcing the thought aside.
You’re skilled. You can handle this, she told herself.
But confidence was a fragile thing. The truth was, the Florian she was about to face was no longer Florian. It was the demon—sothing unknown, unpredictable, and terrifying.
Lisbeth didn’t know the full extent of its strength or its powers. The king’s decree may have left the host weak, but it hadn’t dimd the nace she felt seeping through the thick wooden door.
And as much as she hated to admit it, Florian—or whatever wore his face now—had beco intimidating. The kind of intimidating that made her pause longer than she ever thought she would.
!!!
Lisbeth froze as a chill ran down her spine. The distinct, prickling sensation of being watched crept over her skin, and her breath hitched. Slowly, she glanced around.
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