There was no visible shock. But it had definitely landed. Kabilla was still a vampire with a cold heart—she didn’t react with surprise, but rather with pure rationality.
“…Sister suspects ?”
“To be precise, she suspects an Elder. I an, what kind of Yeiling could possibly kill an Elder alone? Either another Elder helped, or one killed him and pinned it on soone else. As the ruler, Tyr can’t just ignore that possibility.”
“The suspicion itself is reasonable. But did Sister actually say that?”
Sharp. As expected of a vampire. Making her jump to conclusions wouldn’t be easy.
“No. Tyr doesn’t want to suspect her loyal subordinates, her trusted companions. But wouldn’t it be better to clear away any doubts? That’s why I took it upon myself to investigate.”
“You must not value your life very much. How reckless…”
Yet despite calling reckless, Kabilla seed pleased.
“So that’s what it is. I thought Sister had just picked up a particularly amusing bloodbag, but it turns out you’re actually worth your position. You’re right. Sister… isn’t good at doubting us.”
“I know, right? I thought vampires would be coldly rational when it ca to finding a culprit.”
“We’re just detached from emotions. That’s not the sa as being suspicious. Besides, for Sister, we Elders are her hands and feet. And you don’t suspect your own limbs. Hands and feet see the body as the most precious thing of all…”
Kabilla trailed off in thought before taking a more serious tone.
“Fine, then. You overstepping consort. What is it you want to know?”
“The late Ruskinia’s grudges. His enemies.”
“I already told you. We’re Elders. We don’t act on emotions. Saying we killed him over a grudge is just an excuse a human might co up with. No Elder would ever devise a murder plot that’s uncertain, dangerous, and offers no benefit.”
She spoke with unwavering confidence. She truly believed that, and from my mind-reading, I knew for a fact she wasn’t the culprit.
Not that I had suspected her in the first place. I was here for leads.
“Tyr probably thinks the sa way. But my job is to consider the worst-case scenario. So let’s look at this from a different angle.”
“A different angle? How?”
“Let’s assu that one of the Elders is the culprit. If that were true, who would it be?”
When you operate under a different assumption, new possibilities erge. Kabilla might not know the answer right now, but drawing from over a millennium of experience, her insight alone could be a valuable clue.
I didn’t have to wait long. But after only a brief mont of thought, Kabilla shook her head.
“I really don’t know. It’s such an idiotic thing to do that the only one I could think of is Runken, but he’s too stupid to cover his tracks. Actually, he probably wouldn’t even think to hide the evidence. So no, I really don’t know.”
“The late Ruskinia was known to treat humans poorly, wasn’t he?”
“Hmph. That’s right. That damn bat seed to think humans popped out of the ground like weeds. He kept using them up until they died, then went looking for more. Always pestering to sell him humans, to hand them over… Acting like a true parasite. He must’ve gone completely blind.”
Kabilla spoke as if she were a rancher who had spent centuries expanding her livestock—and in truth, there wasn’t much difference.
As the Bloodstitcher, Kabilla was kind to humans. Not just because of her personality, but also because of the wisdom she had accumulated over a thousand years.
Humans weren’t a threat. Even if their numbers increased, it wasn’t an issue for her. She ruled the coastal region, aning she had easy access to resources. Her subordinates dealt with blood and bones, and if they just set up more traps along the shore, they could sustain hundreds of people.
But don’t be mistaken—Kabilla didn’t see humans as equals. Her kindness was the product of cold, calculated efficiency.
…But does that an it isn’t kindness? If it looks like kindness, feels like kindness, and even sustains lives, isn’t that just love by another na?
“Alright. That’s enough for now.”
“So you’re not suspecting ?”
“I’m questioning people in order of least suspicion.”
“What’s your reasoning?”
I definitely couldn’t say that it was because, back in Claudia, she had looked the weakest in a one-on-one fight. I quickly spun a more acceptable answer.
“Because you’re devoted to Tyr. Lady Kabilla wouldn’t do sothing that would cause Tyr unnecessary concern.”
Kabilla snorted.
“Hmph. You sure know how to flatter.”
“That’s how I managed to beco the progenitor’s consort.”
“There must be another reason for that. Either way, I have nothing more to say about the culprit…”
I’d already read her thoughts, but at least this confird it—Kabilla wasn’t the murderer. But that didn’t an I ca away empty-handed.
The late Ruskinia had made a lot of enemies. If even his fellow Elders thought this way about him, how did the humans he mistreated feel?
There was a reason no one had questioned Lir Nightingale’s motive. Ruskinia himself was the motive.
…So then, who was the real culprit?
As I scratched my chin in thought, Kabilla stood up and asked:
“Humans are constantly hungry, right? Want sothing to eat?”
“Yes. Please.”
There was no resisting this.
Kabilla began preparing a seafood feast using the freshest catch. The stuffed bear she controlled with Blood Silk took its place on the cutting board, deftly wielding a razor-sharp bone knife to remove scales and slice sashimi. anwhile, her Draconic Servants, now donning aprons, placed massive crabs into a steaming pot.
The cooking was swift and efficient. Within minutes, a full-course al of pristine seafood was laid out before . Kabilla dismissed her minions with a flick of her hand and said,
“Eat. I made sure to prepare food that won’t alter the taste of your blood, so you can eat as much as you like.”
“To think you care so much about my health… Thank you. I’ll honor your kindness by staying healthy.”
“For the last ti, it’s not about you—it’s for Sister!”
The sashimi, lightly sprinkled with fruit juice, was nothing short of luxurious. Fresh fish could be eaten raw, but that was only true if it was properly prepared. The firm flesh had a distinct, umami-rich flavor that tingled on my tongue, completely different from at.
Then ca the stead crab. Its warmth lted against my palate, unleashing an explosion of flavor.
Now this was living. How had I been going through life without this chef by my side? That settled it—tonight, I was bringing Tyr’s sense of taste back to life.
As Kabilla watched eat, she casually asked,
“Did sothing happen to Sister?”
Took her long enough to bring it up. She’d clearly been curious for a while. Instead of answering imdiately, I played dumb.
“What do you an?”
“I can’t feel Sister’s dominion anymore. From the mont we first t, the tremor that should have been there… was gone. And it’s not sothing she’s deliberately suppressing. I know that much… Do you know anything?”
Hmm. What should I do? I could feign ignorance, claim that as an ordinary human, I wouldn’t know anything about the physiology of vampires.
“There’s no way Sister’s consort is just so random human. There has to be sothing. I need to know what happened to Sister… how she’s changed.”
…But that would only delay her suspicions. I might as well tell her. I’d already revealed myself as the King of Humans—what was one more secret?
I casually picked up another piece of food and spoke as nonchalantly as possible.
“It’s nothing major. She got her heart back.”
“…Her heart?”
“Yeah. After an incredible adventure, Tyr finally rembered the heartbeat she had lost long ago. Not only that, but she managed to make it beat again.”
Kabilla took a mont to process that. After all, a dead heart coming back to life was an unprecedented phenonon. To help her grasp it better, I elaborated.
“Life is about distinguishing oneself from the world and maintaining that separation. Death, on the other hand, is about becoming one with the world. When Tyr’s heart revived, her hemocraft—the power that had once defined her—followed suit. It, too, started distinguishing between her and the world. That’s why her dominion weakened. But don’t worry—Tyr herself hasn’t changed much.”
“…So you helped her. And that’s why you beca her consort.”
Vampires had a way of catching on quickly. Whether it was due to experience or their ability to process emotions with stark clarity, I wasn’t sure. Either way, I nodded.
“Well, yeah. It wasn’t a big deal.”
“…That’s good.”
“Let her know. I’m sure she’ll be happy to hear it.”
That was that. But food was food. Having finished every last bite on my plate, I stood up, satisfied.
“Thanks for the al. I’ll be on my way now. I’ll look into the culprit carefully, so don’t worry too much.”
Just as I was about to leave, Kabilla suddenly moved the stuffed bear. Its mouth opened and closed like a ventriloquist’s puppet, as if she wanted to distance herself from the words she was about to say.
“…Be careful of Vladimir.”
“Vladimir? The Crimson Duke? Are you saying he’s suspicious?”
“It’s not a matter of suspicion.”
No matter what else they were, vampires were still vampires. Their hearts didn’t beat, their blood ran cold, and they were monsters that fed on human lives.
They possessed cold logic, nearly devoid of emotional fluctuations. Inhuman, so might say. They didn’t hope for the best possibilities, nor did they reject the worst.
“No one can say for sure who the culprit is. But if… if Vladimir has ulterior motives.”
Just as I had co to Kabilla first because she seed the least dangerous, Kabilla was thinking along the sa lines.
It doesn’t matter if anyone else betrays us. That isn’t the real danger.
But if there’s one person we can’t afford to lose… the strongest Elder, the undisputed ruler of this land—
Vladimir, the Crimson Duke.
If he ever decided to cast aside the chains that bound him…
“…Now that Sister has broken free of her own shackles, even she might not be safe.”
Reviews
All reviews (0)