Eudora POV
"Death is an escape. It steals pain. It steals suffering. That is why I envy you mortals." William's voice dropped lower than usual. The sound carried a quiet weight that unsettled me.
"Can your kind not die by going under the sun?" I asked. My voice came out barely above a whisper.
He took my hand again. His fingers were cold yet gentle. He lifted my wrist closer to his lips. "The sun burns us. It strips our flesh. But it does not free us. We do not fade. We remain." His breath touched my skin. "Cruel, is it not?"
He did not wait for my reply. Instead, sinked his fangs deep into my wrist. A sharp sting jolted up my arm, yet it faded almost at once and left only a deep, warm pull that made my breath shake.
His expression changed as he drank. A low hunger washed over his face, as though my blood eased something that had tormented him for far too long. His brow tightened. His eyes half-closed. The grip around my hand grew firmer, steady and desperate at the same time. I felt the strength of it travel all the way to my shoulder.
A quiet shiver passed through him. It was the same as the night before. The strange satisfaction. The quiet need. The way he leaned in as if every drop carried a memory he could not let slip away.
He finally pulled back, lingering just a moment longer, leaving a faint warmth on my skin. He lifted his head slowly and I saw that familiar look return. His gaze always turned pitiful after he drank from me. As though the taste of my blood pulled him back into memories he wished he could forget.
When he finally pulled back, his mouth lingered for a heartbeat. A thin line of red touched the corner of his lips. Wiping it away with the back of his hand, yet the hunger in his vermillion eyes remained. He always looked the same after drinking.
"Why do you stop when you're still hungry?" William asked, his voice low. He let out a soft, almost weary sigh, as if the question weighed on him as much as it did on me.
He reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a neatly folded napkin. He pressed it gently against my wrist, the same careful gesture he had made the night before. His fingers lingered for a moment, warm and deliberate. "If I drink more than I should, you will grow weak. My saliva heals only so much in a day. If I take too much, you will not be able to give me blood the following night. I would have no choice but to wait."
"Besides, I drink from Lilith to satisfy my hunger." I tilted my head in confussion.
I watched him dab the last mark of red from my skin. "You drink from Lilith?"
"Then… Why did you buy me in the first place?"
He averted his gaze, turning slightly away from me. His hands clenched at his sides, and for a moment, his expression darkened with something I could not name.
"That is…" His voice broke off. A shadow crossed his face. "It is complicated."
I immediately regretted asking. My hand trembled slightly as I pulled it back, stepping away from him. "I see… I am sorry," I murmured, my voice barely above a whisper. "Perhaps I should go. Shall I… call Lilith?"
The words hung in the air, hesitant and heavy. My chest tightened, as if the very walls of the room were pressing closer.
"No." His voice softened a little. "She will come on her own."
He rested his shoulder against the window frame. The moonlight fell across his hair and highlighted the lines of his face. In that moment, he looked tired, worn by centuries, like a man who had carried too much for too long.
I opened the door to leave. Lilith stood on the other side with a small smile. "Oh. You saved me the trouble of knocking."
Déjà vu, I thought.
"Master is waiting," I said.
She nodded and held out my book. "You left this behind."
I took it with a quiet smile. "Thank you."
I returned to my room. The corridor felt colder tonight. The floor echoed with each step and the flickering candlelight stretched my shadow long against the walls. My room sat at the far end of the hall. The old wooden door creaked when I pushed it open.
Inside, the room was dim but warm enough. I let out a long, unhurried sigh, feeling the tension of the day ease from my shoulders. I set the book on the desk. I loosened the laces of my dress and slipped beneath the blankets. The sheets felt cool at first, then softened with my warmth.
I lay on my side and closed my eyes. The darkness behind them felt empty. I turned onto my back. Then onto my other side. Sleep refused to come. My body rested, yet something inside me remained awake and restless.
After several minutes, I sat up and exhaled. "I cannot sleep…" The words left my mouth before I thought about them. "I should go for a walk…"
I wrapped a shawl around my shoulders. The fabric was soft but thick enough to keep out the chill in the castle. The halls were quiet, and my footsteps echoed softly against the stone walls. Candles flickered in the sconces, casting long shadows across the tapestries and portraits. The place felt calm, almost as if it were watching me.
I walked down the grand staircase, each step creaking under my weight. When I opened the doors, the cool night air met me. The grounds were bathed in moonlight, I could hear water trickling from the fountain in the distance. I took a deep breath, letting the crisp air fill my lungs, and stepped forward, feeling both alone and awake in the quiet night.
I walked toward the garden Lilith had brought me to earlier. The petals glistened with dew. I reached out and picked a single rose. Its weight in my hand felt fragile yet real. As I turned it between my fingers, I suddenly noticed a temple ahead.
The small stone structure sat in the center of the garden. Vines curled around its columns. I stepped inside. The air inside felt still. Calm. The wind brushed against my skin like cool fingers. I closed my eyes and breathed in the scent of roses.
"What are you doing here so late?"
A deep voice echoed behind me.
I turned. "Master… I… I…" I stammered, my eyes fixed on him as he tilted his head. "I just… couldn't sleep."
He stepped into the temple, the moonlight casting a soft glow around him. Shadows stretched and shifted behind his tall figure, giving him an almost unreal presence. His gaze fell on the rose in my hand, steady and intent. Without a word, he lifted his palm toward me, an unspoken request to hand over the flower.
I placed the rose gently in his hand. He held it for a moment before lifting it slowly to his face. His eyes closed, inhaling its fragrance deeply. The scent was delicate and sweet, mingling with the cool night air that drifted through the temple. I watched the gentle rise and fall of his chest as he held the rose close.
"Beautiful, are they not? Roses."
I nodded. He looked down at the flower, his expression calm but intense, and the soft light of the temple caught the curve of his features.
"It draws you in with its beauty," he said, his voice low, "yet when you come too close, it can cut you."
His eyes met mine for a brief, sharp moment, and I looked away immediately. The temple felt quiet around us, filled with nothing but the faint scent of the rose and the soft rustle of its petals.
"That is a poetic way to describe it," I murmured, feeling my heartbeat in the quiet that had settled between us. The air felt slightly awkward.
A thought struck me, and I tensed, wanting to keep the conversation going. "Right. I… I took one of your books. Lilith said it was all right."
"Which one?"
"The Monster and the Saint."
He flinched at the name, a frown flickering across his features before he leaned against one of the temple's stone posts, regaining his composure. His expression remained calm, but I noticed the subtle shift just now, the tiniest crack in his mask. "You may keep it. I never cared for it."
"You do not like it? It is a love story. A beautiful one." I looked toward the garden. The leaves swayed gently in the wind, brushing softly against each other. "It shows how strong love can be. That even two polar beings can stay together through challenges. Despite the fact that he is a monster, she still loved him." I smiled softly and clutched my chest, letting out a quiet chuckle. "It's the kind of love I want to have… I mean… isn't it beautiful to love? Even when it's hard. Even when it aches." My eyes softened. "To want someone so completely, so endlessly. I want that…"
He looked at me, his expression unreadable. There was no warmth in his eyes, only something flat and unyielding. "Beautiful?" he said slowly, almost as if tasting the word and finding it bitter. "You base your idea of love on a story someone invented. Love is not like that. It breaks easily. It blinds you. It leaves you empty, and there is no guarantee of recovery."
I blinked, taken aback, my smile fading. His words cut through me like sharp glass, leaving a cold weight in my chest. "You speak as if you know how it is…" I whispered.
He did not answer immediately. He turned the rose slowly in his hand, tracing the edges of its petals with careful attention. "I do…" he said finally, his voice quieter, almost hesitant. "After centuries wandering in this world, I have seen love. I have felt it. I have had it, and I have lost it." He paused, and for a moment his eyes seemed distant, haunted by memories I could not glimpse. "It is not as beautiful as it seems. Most of the time, it is cruelty. It takes more than it gives. Those who believe in its light are the ones who burn the brightest, and fall the hardest."
His hands trembled slightly as he held the rose, and his gaze dropped for a brief instant, fleeting but telling. "I… I have tried to hold it, to trust it, but it always leaves behind scars. Scars that do not fade, no matter how much time passes." There was a quiet vulnerability in him now, a softness beneath the cold certainty, as if admitting this truth cost him something he could never take back.
I shivered, not from cold but from the raw weight of his words. His voice carried a certainty I could not touch. I looked down at the rose, delicate in his hand, and wondered if even something as tender as love could survive in a world like his.
Still, a small part of me refused to let go. "Maybe love isn't perfect," I said quietly, "but that does not mean it is not worth seeking. Even if it hurts."
He met my eyes briefly, his gaze lingering longer than I expected. I looked away immediately, feeling the intensity of his stare press against me, almost too much to bear.
He drew a long breath. Then he threw the rose into the garden. William stared at the rose as if the sight stirred something he wished he could forget. His shoulders lowered. His face softened for the briefest moment before he straightened again.
He stepped closer, tilting my chin upward so I had no choice but to meet his gaze. Moonlight caught his eyes, making them glow an unnerving, brilliant red. His skin was ghostly pale, and his touch sent a chill crawling up my arm. My breath hitched under the intensity of his stare, sharp enough to cut through the night. Embarrassment burned my cheeks, and I closed my eyes, hoping he couldn't see the tremor in me.
"Do you know what immortality feels like?" I flinched, eyes snapping open. His voice had lost its edge, softer now, almost weary. "You carry every memory. Every face. Every betrayal. They stay with you long after the people are gone. You become a graveyard… of the things you wished you could forget."
His eyes softened, vulnerability etched into every line of his face. For the first time, he didn't feel like a predator. He felt like someone who had been carrying centuries of sorrow, a burden too heavy for anyone to bear alone.
I blinked, swallowing the lump in my throat. "That… sounds lonely."
"It is." His voice was quiet, stripped of pretense, honest in a way that made my chest ache. "But loneliness is safer than love. Safer than losing someone special."
Is that why there are only a few living in such a huge castle… I thought.
He remained still. The silence between us settled like a veil, soft, yet heavy. Finally, he released my chin and looked away. Words died on my tongue, leaving only the sound of our quiet breaths.
"Master…" I whispered, unsure what I even wanted to say.
He turned his head at last. His eyes were no longer cold, but they held something complicated. Something painfully human. "You should return inside. The night grows colder."
I nodded, my voice barely above a whisper. "Alright…" I stepped out of the temple, my heart still pounding from the intensity of his gaze. Glancing back, I hesitated. "You can find a few herbs in the forest… boil them and drink it. It might help you sleep. I… I heard from Lilith that you have trouble resting at night…"
He remained silent, motionless, as if weighing whether to accept my words. I continued to watch him, my eyes tracing the sharp lines of his face. Vulnerability flickered there, fleeting, almost painful, and my chest tightened at the sight.
I let out a soft sigh, forcing myself to speak. "Goodnight, Master…"
Finally, I turned to leave, the night air wrapping around me as I walked away. One last look over my shoulder revealed him standing there, still as a shadow against the temple. He seemed so achingly alone…