Lilith's POV
The candles fire suddenly shrank…
I had just finished bathing and was in the middle of changing into my robe when I noticed the light falter. The warmth in the room softened, shadows stretching quietly along the stone walls. Curiosity stirred within me as I reached for a cloth and gently dried my hair, my movements slow and unhurried.
It seems Eudora is with the Master now…
The thought settled easily in my mind. Moments like this were never difficult to sense. The castle itself always responded to the Master's emotions, and tonight, it felt heavier than usual.
I reached for my hair brush that was resting atop a smooth stone slab. Carefully, I ran it through my damp hair, strand by strand, taking my time so as not to damage it. Each slow stroke gave me more time to think.
What could have happened to make the Master's heart grow so heavy…?
When I finished, I reached for a small vial of fragrance and applied a subtle amount to my skin. The scent of roses lingered softly in the air, the very same fragrance the Master always requested I wear. The familiar scent clung lightly to me.
As I stepped out of the bath chambers, I noticed how unusually dark the castle had become. The candlelight that once filled the halls was faint now, as though the flames themselves were struggling. It wasn't complete darkness, but the glow was weak, barely enough to illuminate the long corridors.
The castle felt quiet. Too quiet.
I decided to leave the castle for a short walk outside, if only to clear my thoughts and let the cool night air brush through my hair. The doors opened with a low creak as I stepped beyond the stone walls, the breeze greeting me gently, cold but it felt pleasant against my skin.
As I wandered through the castle gardens, a familiar sensation crept over me, the unmistakable feeling of being watched. Someone was following me. I knew it as well as I knew my own footsteps.
This wasn't the first time.
The first time I sensed their presence was late at night, when I was preparing to sleep. I had glanced toward the window and noticed a dark figure clinging to the stone just beyond the glass, motionless, its form barely visible against the night sky. It hadn't moved. It had simply stared.
Fear had taken hold of me then. For nights afterward, I kept my curtains tightly drawn and refused to step outside the castle without Victor by my side. The thought of unseen eyes lingering on me was enough to make my skin crawl.
Yet, as time passed, I began to notice something strange.
The figure never tried to harm me.
Instead, each night, it left my favorite flowers beside my bed, placing them gently as I slept. Their petals were always fresh, their scent faint but unmistakable. The gesture was unsettling in its own way, yet it lacked cruelty.
What disturbed me most was this.
I had never told anyone what my favorite flower was. Only my family knew… And that guy-
I stopped mid-step, my breath catching as my thoughts trailed off. I shook my head, forcing myself to dismiss the idea. No. That possibility was already out of the question. Those who knew my favorite flower were all human. Whoever this was, they couldn't be one of them.
And so, slowly, I stopped avoiding the presence.
Curiosity began to outweigh fear. I wanted to know who this mysterious figure was, and what they wanted from me. I wanted answers.
That was why I began walking through the gardens alone, deliberately straying from my usual paths, hoping my plan would lure them into revealing themselves.
"Reveal yourself," I called out softly.
Only silence answered.
I searched the shadows, my eyes scanning every corner, every bush, and every darkened archway, but there was nothing. No movement. No sound.
I had done this many times before, and still, the mysterious watcher refused to show themselves.
They remained unseen, watching from the dark… Just out of reach.
It was honestly frustrating. But one thing was certain, that this person was a vampire, and a man.
No ordinary human could enter my room and leave flowers behind so effortlessly. I always kept my door locked, yet they slipped inside without the slightest sound, as if the walls themselves had opened for them.
Once, I had pretended to be asleep, hoping to finally catch them in the act. I lay still, controlling my breathing, every sense alert. Then, suddenly, I heard a voice, it was low and raspy, that softly whispered my name.
That alone confirmed it… A man.
The moment I heard him speak, I reached out, fingers grasping at empty air. He was already gone. When I sat up, all that remained were the flowers, laid neatly beside my bed, as if he had never been there at all.
Lost in thought, I released a slow breath.
Then a voice murmured close to my ear.
"You smell like roses… I thought you liked lilies."
My blood ran cold.
I turned around sharply, heart pounding, my gaze looking around the space behind me.
Yet no one could be seen…
My brow furrowed as irritation flared within me. This is driving me mad… He was toying with me, deliberately avoiding being seen, always lingering just beyond my reach.
Tch. I clicked my tongue. He's really testing me, isn't he?
Fine. If that was how he wanted to play, then I would indulge him.
I drew in one last steadying breath, forcing my composure back into place. It was already late, and lingering outside any longer would only raise questions.
"I should return to the Master," I murmured to myself. "He must be waiting."
Turning on my heel, the chill of the night and the unanswered questions about the stalker lingered with me as I made my way back to the castle, its dim halls welcoming me once more.
When I returned, I looked up the stairs leading to the Master's chambers, wondering if the two of them had finished their conversation. That's when I noticed Eudora leaving his room.
Her expression caught my attention immediately. The calm, soft composure she usually wore had been replaced with a subtle frown. My gut told me their conversation hadn't gone as smoothly as it could have. She turned toward the hall, her footsteps quiet but purposeful as she made her way to her room.
I raised an eyebrow. Why is there such tense drama between the two of them… When they're barely even close?
Shaking my head, I walked up the stairs toward the Master's chambers. When I reached his door, I paused, my hand hovering just above the wood. For a moment, I simply stared.
Judging by the state of the castle, the dimmed candles, and the silence, it was a clear indication that the Master was feeling more vulnerable than usual. I wondered if I was even wanted right now. My hand drifted forward, fingers brushing against the smooth surface of the door. I tapped softly, sliding my hand down along its edge.
If he's in such a fragile state, perhaps it's better to leave him be. Or maybe… I should just ask him instead of assuming.
Lost in thought, I almost hesitated too long. Then his voice broke the quiet, low and steady, yet carrying a weight that made my chest tighten.
"Lilith… enter."
I snapped back to myself and answered at once, "As you wish, Master…"
My hand slid to the knob, fingers curling around it as I turned and pushed the door open.
"Come in…" His voice was so low I almost missed it, barely more than a breath.
I stepped inside and glanced toward his desk. The Master was slumped in his chair, his posture heavy, as though the weight of the room itself rested on his shoulders.
I didn't act immediately, thinking carefully about what I should say or do next. I took a breath, ready to speak. "Did… something happen?" I asked carefully. "I saw Eudora earlier. She seemed troubled." I hesitated, then added, "I also noticed the candles getting dim…"
I tilted my head slightly, waiting.
There was no answer.
The silence stretched, thick and uneasy. Then, after several long moments, the chair legs scraped against the floor as he finally stood. The sound echoed faintly through the chamber. He began walking toward me, his steps slow and deliberate.
When our eyes met, I froze.
There was something different about his gaze, deeper than usual, heavier. I had served him for a long time, night after night, and in all that time I had always restrained myself. I did what I was told. Nothing more. Nothing less. I had learned to ignore what I thought should be done, because my place was simply to obey.
I knew this pattern of his well. It was unhealthy. This wasn't what he needed to heal from the past that continued to bind him. Yet I had never once crossed that line. I could only follow his orders.
I had never allowed my own thoughts to interfere.
But this time… something was different.
The moment his hand touched my waist, my body reacted before my mind could. My hand shot out, fingers closing firmly around his wrist. I held him there, my grip tightening as I looked up at him.
His eyes locked onto mine for a moment before he avoided my gaze.
But what I saw for that brief moment made my chest tighten.
There was no hunger in his gaze. No desire. Only a deep, aching longing, it was raw and exposed. For the first time, he didn't look like a fearsome vampire of the night.
He looked like a man on the brink of breaking.
And that frightened me.
I was afraid that if I allowed this to continue, that if I let him drown himself in fleeting comfort, then he would only destroy himself further. That this wasn't healing, but another way of running from the pain he refused to face.
So I held his wrist, unmoving. Even if it meant defying the role I had always known.
"Master…"
I froze.
Who was I kidding...? Master may be different but... I've always hated vampires.
A soft scoff escaped my lips as I released his wrist. That hatred was carved into me, rooted in every vein, every drop of blood, buried deep within my heart. So what if I let him fall further into despair? This was what he wanted. Even if it destroyed him in the process.
It's true that the Master was different. He wasn't like the others. He was merely a miserable man, trapped in his own sorrow. I knew that much.
And yet… no matter how much I understood him, I could never erase the anger I felt toward his kind.
I was pushed to bed, a sharp gasp escaping my lips. The master hovered over me, his hands trembled as they worked at the fabric, not guided by desire, but by something far more desperate. He was being urgent and clumsy. Like a man drowning, grasping at the nearest thing that might keep him from sinking beneath the surface.
His breathing was uneven, shallow, strained, almost panicked.
That was when I understood.
This was not want. This was escape.
Every movement carried the weight of his past. Years of regret, of silence, of sorrow pressing down on him. Every touch, every tremor of his hand seemed like an attempt to quiet the voices that haunted him endlessly. As if touching me could quiet the voices that haunted him endlessly and somehow stitch together the pieces of himself that had been lost for decades.
It was cruel, pathetic, and just tragic.
I swallowed hard, my mind racing.
Eudora once told me she envied how kind and composed I was… How I carried myself with grace, how my thoughts seemed careful and considerate. She said I always remained calm, even in difficult moments, that my smile reflected a gentleness she admired. She believed I was mature, that my way of seeing the world was… Pleasant and comforting…
No…
Eudora, you don't understand. This is who I am beneath it all. I am nothing but two-faced. You're just too innocent to see it. What a person shows to the world rarely reflects what lies in their heart. And me? I wear a mask of composure, but beneath it… beneath it, I am fire and ice. Hatred. Fear. A cruelty I cannot erase.
My eyes never left his as I realized something else.
I was afraid.
Not of him, exactly, but of what letting him continue would do. I was afraid he would destroy himself, piece by piece, in this fragile, fleeting escape. Afraid that his sorrow, his unbearable longing would consume him if I did nothing.
And yet, even knowing that… I felt anger. Bitter, sharp, unrelenting anger at him, at what he had become, at the world that made him this way.
My hand balled into a fist as he moved closer. I could feel my heart pounding, not from fear, but from something heavier. Responsibility. Frustration. A strange, nameless urge to act, to stop him, to do something… Anything.
And yet, I didn't know what that something was.
I no longer knew what I wanted, or what I should do. Every thought seemed tangled, every instinct conflicted. I didn't even recognize myself anymore, not the person I thought I was, not the person Eudora believed me to be. Who was I, if the mask I wore no longer felt like me?
Confusion pressed down on me, heavier than the Master's desperation. And for the first time, I wondered if I even had the right to act at all.
He looked at me then, not with hunger, not with command, but with a raw, desperate longing.
With my thoughts a mess, I didn't know whether I could save him, or whether I even wanted to.