Before long, another young woman in a maid's uniform hurried out to greet them.
"I'm late, Miss Theresa! Cleaning the hallway took much longer than expected! I really hope that at the next gathering, they don't spill blood everywhere—once it dries, it's a nightmare to clean up!"
Theresa did not seem impressed. She fixed the girl with a stern gaze.
"Miss Fi, that is hardly an excuse for tardiness." She then turned to the mother and daughter. "This is Fi, another maid of the manor."
Fi curtsied, dipping into a graceful half-bow.
Eve's eyes sparkled with curiosity. Compared to Theresa, Fi seed different in an intriguing way.
"Is Fi also a zombie?" she asked.
Fi blinked before bursting into laughter. "A zombie? Oh, no, not at all! I'm a witch. Not only that—I used to be an Auror. Although... I suppose I've lost that job now. How unlucky." Her voice carried a note of regret.
Angela looked at her daughter for an explanation. "An Auror? What's that?"
"Think of them as the wizarding world's version of the police, Mom. Being an Auror is a prestigious job. They work hard to hunt down dark wizards," Eve explained.
Fi sighed. "Too bad His Highness dislikes Aurors. He says we're too incompetent—even basic Shield Charms are beyond us."
Eve chuckled. "Oh, trust , Fi, every single student at Hogwarts has wanted to say the sa thing to him."
Fi followed them inside, still grumbling. "Not everyone can be as monstrously talented as him."
"So... why aren't you an Auror anymore?" Eve asked, stepping deeper into the manor.
Fi hesitated. "I don't want to ruin your impression of His Highness. You seem to think quite highly of him."
Eve smirked. "Oh, co on. Let guess—it was Nolan's doing?"
Before Fi could respond, a sleek black cat suddenly leapt from the upper floor, landing in front of them with arched fur and flashing golden eyes.
"You incompetent maid! Where did you hide my milk? Ever since I returned from Ireland, I haven't been able to find it!" the cat shrieked in outrage.
Fi yelped, jumping behind Theresa in alarm. "You might want to ask His Highness that! I suspect Randall Gorge hasn't had a proper supply delivery in months! Even the Muggles in the basent complain there isn't enough food. Can't we be kinder to them?"
"Theresa!" the cat—Miss Nancy—hissed, her tail whipping behind her.
Theresa, entirely unbothered, responded coolly. "I suggest you try the cat food Miss Libera brought from the Muggle world. You were quite fond of it last ti. She said she brought several flavors."
Nancy's ears perked up. "Really? And that Italian girl didn't tell ? Is she trying to hoard it for herself? Over my dead body!"
With that, she bolted up the staircase, disappearing into the manor's upper floors.
As silence returned, Angela stood frozen in place, her face pale, her legs shaking. Oh, dear Lord. She had never, never imagined she would one day hear a talking black cat.
Eve, on the other hand, was fixated on sothing else entirely.
"There are Muggles in the manor?" she asked.
Theresa's expression remained unreadable. "The Von Draugr family has a long-standing tradition of farming their food sources."
Angela's breath hitched.
Theresa continued evenly, "But don't be alard. Not all of them were taken—so ca willingly. Life is not easy for Muggles. Many of them prefer the security of being under the Von Draugr family's care rather than struggling in the outside world."
For a long mont, there was silence. Then, to Eve's surprise, her mother whispered, "I think... I understand."
Theresa and Fi led them into the drawing room, a grand chamber with an elegant long dining table at its center. Seated at the far end, a woman of regal poise and undeniable authority was reviewing docunts, her gold-rimd glasses resting low on the bridge of her nose.
She looked up as they entered, removing her glasses with a graceful motion.
"Ah, you must be Eve Stock." Her voice was smooth, confident, with a touch of amusent. Then, her sharp gaze landed on Angela. "And you are her mother? My, my. Two beautiful won. Until now, I never quite understood His Highness's preferences... but I believe I do now."
A slow blush crept up Eve's face.
The woman smiled. "I am Eloise Constantine." With effortless elegance, she rose from her seat. "Once, I was known as a Countess. But now, I am bound to Grand Duke Felicia as her devoted kin... and I currently serve as the steward of Sistine Manor."
Eve approached her and greeted her with a kiss on each cheek. "Pleasure to et you, Eloise. So, you were a Countess?"
Eloise chuckled softly. "Oh, darling, that was a lifeti ago." She gracefully gathered her scattered papers, straightening the desk before turning back to them. "His Highness will be joining you shortly for dinner. I hope the two of you enjoy your evening."
As Eloise walked toward the exit, she spoke to Miss Theresa in a calm, businesslike manner.
"This month's family expenditures have increased by twenty-four percent compared to last month. As per His Highness's instructions, I've allocated so of the funds into investnts… Oil? That's not exactly an easy industry to buy into. I could leverage so connections through my ex-husband, but I wouldn't set my expectations too high.
"Also, the exchange rate between Galleons and British pounds is rising. I sincerely hope the goblins know what they're doing."
Eve, utterly fascinated by everything in Sistine Manor, found herself wondering what kind of life Nolan had lived here for the past fourteen years. How had he grown up in a place like this?
Angela, on the other hand, felt increasingly on edge. This trip was supposed to be a vacation, but she was beginning to regret tagging along.
Not long after, Fi appeared at the doorway, pushing a serving cart. Theresa, with flawless precision, began setting the table with a professional's grace.
The al wasn't as extravagant as a Hogwarts feast, but it was an unusual spread of elaborate French cuisine—though the portions were far more generous than a traditional French al.
Eve glanced at the plates. "You've only set out two?" She looked at her own, then at her mother's. "What about Nolan's?"
"His Highness doesn't eat this kind of food," Theresa responded.
Just as she finished speaking, a strikingly beautiful blonde girl appeared in the doorway.
She was barely clothed, wearing sothing so simple it was practically nonexistent. Her slender neck and smooth, pale back were completely exposed.
The girl cast a shy, demure glance at Eve and her mother before stepping silently to the side of the table, standing there like a perfectly trained statue.
Eve stared, stunned into silence for several monts. Then, cautiously, she asked, "Um… What exactly is her role?"
Without opening her eyes, Theresa answered, "She is His Highness's dinner."
Eve's stomach dropped.
"Alice White. Twenty-five years old. Blood type B. Excellent health. A virgin. Thirteen days away from her next nstrual cycle. Perfect."
Eve twitched. She really hadn't expected vampires to dine like this.
Just then, Nolan arrived.
"Eve, it's been so long…" He hesitated, then corrected himself with a smirk. "Well, ten days."
He strode toward her with effortless elegance, pulling her into a light embrace. His voice was soft as he murmured, "I saw your new hairstyle. It's lovely—I like it very much."
Eve flicked one of her long, silvery twin-tails with a knowing smile. "I know you do…"
Her hair, now styled in low twin tails with a gentle wave, was sothing she had gotten done over the holiday—because she knew Nolan liked it that way.
Nolan turned his attention to Angela, shaking her hand. "And you, Angela, it's been a while. How's work?"
Angela shivered at the icy touch of his fingers but managed to smile. "It's going well, thanks to you. I appreciate the job opportunity, Nolan. Though, I have to admit, I still haven't t my employer in person. I'd love to see her soti."
Nolan returned to his seat, tying a napkin around his neck with practiced ease.
"That's unfortunate. Felicia is still in Sweden."
Angela raised a brow. "She still hasn't returned?"
Nolan shrugged. "She claims she'll be back before the next Hogwarts term starts. But who knows?"
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