Eudora's POV
Lilith gently tapped my shoulder, her touch light as a feather. I turned my head to face her. She was staring at the bird lying motionless on the ground. Its feathers, once white as snow, were dulled now by the touch of death.
"Let's bury it somewhere quiet," she said softly, her voice carrying the gentleness of someone who had seen death many times before. "It deserves rest, even if the world has forgotten it."
Lilith held my book against her chest while I cradled the small bird in both my hands. Its warmth had already fled, leaving behind only the faint echo of what once was life. We walked through the garden until we found a small grove near the edge of the old willow trees. The air there was heavy with the scent of damp earth and the faint sweetness of decaying leaves.
I knelt down and began to dig with my bare hands. The soil was cold, crumbling between my fingers like ashes. When the hole was deep enough, I placed the bird gently within it, its tiny body resting against the earth's hollow embrace. Lilith stood beside me in silence. When I finished covering it, I brushed the dirt from my hands and stared at the patch of dark soil.
For a moment, the world felt unbearably still.
Lilith reached out, her fingers finding mine. Her touch was warm and certain. She gave me the same soft smile she always did, one that somehow made everything less heavy.
"Don't carry sorrow for too long," she whispered. "Even the smallest life has its place in the endless cycle."
I nodded faintly.
"Now," she said, tugging my hand gently, "let's head to the main garden. You'll be surprised."
The wind stirred, lifting strands of her pale hair and letting them dance in the light. The sun's golden rays caught on them, turning them into threads of gold that glimmered against the shadowed air. I followed her, and as we stepped beyond the grove, the garden unfolded before me.
At first, I thought it was small, just another patch of flowers that dotted the castle grounds. But as we drew closer, the full sight took my breath away. It wasn't a mere garden; it was a sea of roses. Endless rows of crimson and ivory stretched far into the distance, their petals trembling softly in the wind like waves on a blood-tinted ocean. The fragrance was overwhelming, sweet, intoxicating, and strangely mournful.
I felt something stir inside me. My chest tightened, and my eyes burned as if tears were threatening to fall. To witness such beauty after living so long in darkness… it was unbearable and healing all at once.
I took a deep breath. The air felt alive against my skin, carrying the perfume of roses and the faint hum of bees wandering lazily between blooms. My body shivered as goosebumps crept across my arms. The garden seemed almost otherworldly, roses glistened with dew that shimmered like glass, and the wind whispered through them as though speaking in a forgotten tongue.
"How beautiful…" I murmured, almost afraid my voice would break the spell.
Lilith smiled as she watched me. "The master's favorite flower is the rose," she said. "That's why you can spot them around the castle."
I looked at her and then back at the roses. Their thorns glistened with dew, sharp and elegant. They seemed to echo the very nature of the master himself.
For a long while, we stood in silence. The sun began to sink, casting the garden in hues of gold and blood-red. As its light faded, I felt time itself slow, as though the day resisted dying. The final rays vanished beyond the horizon, and only the faint glow of twilight remained.
Lilith sighed, her voice soft. "We should go back. The night is coming fast."
I nodded, taking one last look at the endless roses before turning away. As we walked back, the sound of our footsteps mingled with the whisper of the wind through the trees.
When we reached the castle steps, I turned to her. "Lilith, I'll prepare for a bath now and get ready. I have to head to the master's chamber soon."
She glanced at me with her usual calmness. "Of course. I'll take a bath myself."
I tilted my head slightly. "At night? What for?"
Lilith smiled faintly and pressed her finger against her lips. "I simply want to. There's no reason beyond that."
I nodded, thinking nothing more of it.
The bath chamber was veiled in steam when I entered. Candlelight flickered across the stone walls, painting them in amber tones. The water rippled softly as I stepped in. The warmth seeped into my bones, chasing away the chill that had clung to me since the garden. I closed my eyes, letting the scent of lavender oil fill the air.
I removed my clothing, ready to enter the pool, when I turned to look at Lilith. "Aren't you joining?" I asked. Lilith simply smiled. "I'll take a bath once you're done." "I see..." I murmured, stepping into the pool, not bothering to question why.
When I finished, Lilith was sitting by the side, waiting for me to leave. She seemed lost in thought, her eyes distant beneath the flickering glow. I dried myself quietly and slipped into my clothes, a simple white dress with short sleeves that left only my arms bare. I wore it because I knew the master would drink from my wrist again.
As I walked through the dim corridors toward his chamber, I realized I was no longer afraid. The thought surprised me. The echo of my footsteps was steady, my breathing calm. I stopped before the tall door, I raised my hand, knocking on the door gently.
"Come in," his deep voice called from within.
My hand reached for the knob, its surface cold beneath my skin. I turned it slowly, hearing the faint click of metal echo in the quiet hall. The door opened with a soft creak. Once I entered inside, I closed the door behind me, the sound of it latching shut whispering through the silence.
The master sat near the window, the moonlight falling across his figure like silver silk. He was reading, his posture poised, his expression calm yet unreadable. A single candle burned beside him, its flame reflected in his eyes. When he looked up, I felt the familiar pull of his gaze, but it no longer made my heart race in fear.
I stepped closer, raising my hand slightly.
He rose and approached me, his movements smooth and soundless. "Hmm," he said, his lips curving faintly. "You're getting the hang of it. And it's only your second night."
He took my hand and drew it toward his lips, but just as his fangs neared my skin, he stopped. His eyes met mine, dark, ancient, and sharp.
"Your fear is gone," he murmured. "That was quick. You no longer tremble at my touch or flinch at my voice."
My heart thudded once, slow and heavy. "Of course. I feel indebted to you. You have done nothing but show me kindness."
He released my hand, letting it fall gently. His gaze lingered for a long moment before he spoke again, his voice low and distant. "But I am still a vampire. Despite my kindness, you should remember that I could end your life before you even understand it's happening. You trust too easily. Kindness is a fragile illusion."
I tilted my head, my tone quiet but certain. "You bought me from that market, didn't you? So you own my life. Even if you decide to take it, it wouldn't matter. There's nothing to live for in this cursed world."
He did not reply immediately. Instead, he stared at me in silence, his expression unreadable. And for a heartbeat, I thought I saw something stir within him, an emotion buried too deep to name. The faintest glimmer of sorrow, perhaps, or the memory of something lost long ago.
Then his gaze shifted toward the window. The moon hung there like a silver coin in a pool of night, its glow casting a pale sheen across his profile. "You speak as though death is freedom," he said softly, almost to himself. "Perhaps you are not wrong."
The quiet that followed felt endless. The fire in the hearth crackled faintly, its warmth failing to reach the corners of the room. There was a strange heaviness in him, as if the centuries he carried had finally begun to weigh him down.
For a fleeting second, I thought I saw grief in his eyes, an echo of a man who once lived, who once felt, before the world turned him into something else. But just as quickly, it vanished, swallowed by that calm, unreadable mask he always wore.
I looked at him for a moment longer, uncertain if he meant it as comfort or warning. Perhaps it was both.
And in that silence between us is thick with unspoken words and quiet despair. I realized that perhaps neither of us were truly alive...