«Don’t say anything to Luke, please...»
Those were the only words that Ginevra managed to whisper in a broken, tearful voice, barely audible as she lay curled up on Gerard’s bed.
At this hour, everyone is in the ss hall eating, except for and her—I just couldn’t leave her alone in this state, so disfigured she’s almost unrecognizable. Around her right eye, a deep purplish—almost black—bruise stands out; her lower lip is split and still bleeding, and her cheeks are slashed by long, deep scratches. I’m sure that having Luke by her side would calm her more than I ever could, but Ginevra—aware of the boy’s fiery temper—must have chosen to keep him in the dark, fearing he’d lash out at Countess Alia Dulcar in a fit of rage and face disastrous consequences.
Thanks to Gerard’s complicity, Ginevra will spend the night here, hoping it’ll be enough to keep her hidden until Ayra’s victory. My mistress told that the first thing she’ll do after defeating Countess Alia—and thus gaining full rights over Ginevra’s life—will be to take her back to that miraculous beauty center and erase, once and for all, the cruelty inflicted by the countess.
Despite all these reassurances, the anxiety—or rather, the sheer terror—in Ginevra’s eyes, still brimming with tears like last night, shows no sign of fading. At the foot of the bed sits a plate with tonight’s dinner, completely untouched—she hasn’t even taken a single bite.
I don’t even want to imagine what Count and Countess Dulcar did to this girl to push her into such a deep state of trauma—the wounds in her soul are surely worse than the ones on her skin. Or maybe there’s sothing more? I’m convinced of it; I’ve sensed it in her odd behaviors, and in Luke’s too—he acts overly protective toward her, maybe too much so. It’s the kind of attitude that makes sense only if sothing happened to her before they arrived in Mildelar. Maybe, if I found out what, I could help her... but I doubt she’s in the mood to talk right now.
Her eyes are wide open, fixed on the wall beside her bed, and I don’t know how much longer I can keep my nervousness and anger in check—anger born from my helplessness in easing her pain, and from the mory of last night: Alia yanking Ginevra by the hair and dragging her naked, battered body across the rocky terrain where Ayra and I were training, worsening her injuries even more.
Only two hours after the fall of the Maius Moon does Ginevra finally bend down to pick up her portion of food—hunger must have won over despair, or maybe, fortunately, the tornt gripping her has lessened just enough for her to regain control of her body, until now frozen and curled up in a fetal position.
I’m glad to see that she’s finally showing so sign of improvent, even if it’s certainly not thanks to . After a couple of failed attempts to start a conversation—receiving only silence in return—I figured that the only thing I could do was keep watch over her: to make sure that, in a mont of desperation, she wouldn’t do sothing reckless, and that no one—especially Luke—would cross the threshold of my room.
«Unfortunately, tonight’s dinner really sucks—it’s even worse than the lycan entrails in jelly from last night,» I remark in a light tone, trying to ease the heavy atmosphere. Tonight’s nu included the wings of those little demons that stord the dormitory, fried in sothing that looked like tempura but tasted... well, better not even go there. I’m starting to think that, to cut food costs and recover reconstruction expenses, they’ve stocked up the corpses of that monstrous army to serve us. Disgusting. «Tomorrow I’ll ask Ayra to take you to the best restaurant in Noxscura. During the weeks I spent at the royal castle, I had the privilege of tasting real vampire cuisine—not the garbage they feed us here—and I can assure you, it rivals the best dishes of the human world.»
«I find it hard to believe that vampires like your mistress really exist...» Ginevra murmurs in a faint voice, with a barely noticeable smile. «She has no reason to care about —no bond, no obligation. I’m neither her familiar nor part of House Valakys—yet tomorrow, she’ll fight in a Judicium Sanguinis to protect . It sounds so absurd I’m almost afraid it’s just a dream.»
«As Alia’s familiar—though luckily not for much longer—you’ll be allowed to attend the Judicium Sanguinis tomorrow too. You’ll be there, right?»
«And you’re seriously asking ?» Ginevra replies with a spark of renewed energy. «There’s no way I’m missing Ayra kicking that bitch’s ass!»
We both burst into laughter. A genuine, liberating laugh that, for a mont, chases away the pain etched onto her beautiful face.
«Speaking of bitches...» Ginevra mutters, frowning with clear annoyance. «That nun, Rossella... last night she basically asked you—without even trying to be subtle—to stick your hands between her boobs just to get that jelly cube. Not to ntion all the cooing and weird noises she made while talking to you... you looked pretty eager to help her, didn’t you?»
«Actually, she did that with everyone, not just ...» I say, trying to defend myself—though I don’t know why I even bother. She’s not my girlfriend, after all, but now’s not the ti to start so pointless argunt. «And I’m sure she didn’t an anything by it. That’s just how she is. After spending who knows how many years in a convent full of won, she’s acting with us the sa way she did with the other nuns. Okay, yeah... put like that, it still sounds weird. But believe it or not, she’s actually still a virgin.»
«Virgin? Her?!» blurts out Ginevra—you’d never guess that just monts ago she could barely speak. I signal her to lower her voice—Luke might hear us, since his room isn’t far from mine—but she clearly isn’t in the mood to listen.
«If she’s a virgin, then I’m Taylor Swift!»
«I swear, she can even use a crazy powerful ability that counters this world’s magic—the Divine Light. According to her, it’s a gift from God granted only to virgins!» I insist, trying to convince her of... I don’t even know what, honestly.
«If you say so...» she murmurs, lowering her gaze. «But from now on, don’t sit near her anymore. Promise that...?»
«Why?»
«Because... just because. It’s none of your business,» she replies, blushing slightly.
Actually, it kind of is... but whatever.
«There’s very little ti left before the long-awaited Judicium Sanguinis, where Princess Ayra Valakys and Countess Alia Dulcar will face off. The public is in a frenzy—we simply can’t wait any longer! It’s been over a hundred years since the last Judicium Sanguinis; most of those attending today weren’t even born back then. And who knows when the next one will be, so let’s savor every mont of this match that promises to be red-hot!»
The enthusiasm in the announcer’s amplified voice is truly contagious—so much so that even I find myself waiting for the start of the fight with anticipation. Not just to see Ginevra finally freed from that witch’s grip, but also because I’m genuinely curious and excited to witness a Judicium Sanguinis with my own eyes.
The arena where they’ll fight is nothing like the one used for familiar duels—it’s nearly ten tis larger. That’s because battles between vampires are far more destructive and require much more space. But the main reason is the turnout: while the Blood Gas are reserved for the nobility, the Judicium Sanguinis is open to everyone, and not even the lowest-ranked vampires would dare miss such a legendary event.
The royal family’s tribune is on a whole different level; unlike the simple canopy in the Blood Gas arena, this one is more like a full-blown apartnt, complete with balconies overlooking the battlefield and wide, comfy sofas instead of the usual stiff armchairs. I almost feel like a VIP. Unfortunately, Ginevra didn’t get permission to enter, so she’ll have to watch from the regular stands.
If I were a little less selfish, I probably would’ve stayed with her. But let’s be honest—when will I ever get another chance like this? And besides, once this fight is over, she’ll unofficially be part of the Valakys family. So it’s not the end of the world if she’s alone for a few seconds—the fight won’t last long anyway. Ayra’s going to crush Alia in no ti. Or at least that’s what I keep telling myself to feel less guilty about leaving her alone, even if just for a mont.
Even Daphne, Sasha, and Levreshka are here with —or rather, I’m the one tagging along with them.
«Now they’re even letting humans into the royal section of the Judicium Sanguinis? What’s next? A human king and all of us as their slaves?!» Levreshka grumbles the mont she steps into the room.
I’m used to it by now...
«Don’t listen to her, Lyon,» says Daphne, shooting her little sister a deadly glare. «Sit here next to ,» she adds, patting the spot beside her on the couch. Levreshka sits at the opposite end, while Sasha is shalessly sprawled across the middle—her left leg propped up on the backrest and her right leg stretched toward , her foot nearly brushing my thigh. The pose ends up revealing even more than expected, considering she’s wearing an ultra-short red skirt... and no panties. This woman truly has no sha.
Instinctively, I scoot to the left just enough to get out of range of that pervert’s foot, ending up almost in Daphne’s lap—who, thankfully, doesn’t seem to mind at all. Good thing she’s here with ; otherwise, I doubt I’d survive those two.
The chants and cheers from the stands suddenly fall silent as the announcer’s voice returns, announcing the imminent entrance of the two contenders.
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