Robert returned to the castle just as the sun was setting behind the distant hills. The fading light cast long shadows across the stone courtyard as he stepped through the grand entrance.
His dark hair was still combed neatly backward as usual, though several strands had fallen loose during the day's activities, giving him a slightly less composed appearance than normal. His coat carried the faint scent of dust and cold evening air.
The moment he crossed the threshold of the castle, his sharp senses picked up something unusual.
A faint sound echoed through the corridor.
Banging.
Then a voice.
Screaming.
Robert stopped walking.
His brows slowly knitted together as he tilted his head slightly, focusing on the noise. The castle at this hour was usually quiet. Servants moved carefully through the halls, and the nobles had already begun retreating to their chambers for the evening.
But this noise was different.
It was frantic.
Desperate.
His eyes narrowed as he began tracing the direction of the sound. Without speaking to anyone, he turned and walked deeper into the corridor.
His boots struck the wooden floor with slow, controlled steps, each one producing a light creak that echoed softly against the stone walls. The further he moved down the hall, the louder the sound became.
Bang.
Bang.
"Hello?!"
The voice was hoarse from shouting.
Robert's frown deepened.
He stopped a few feet away from a closed door at the end of the hallway. The banging was clearly coming from behind it now, accompanied by panicked breathing and frantic knocking.
For a moment, he simply stood there.
Listening.
Then he stepped forward.
His hand reached out calmly and wrapped around the cold metal doorknob. Slowly, he twisted it.
Inside the room, Christiana's entire body stiffened.
Her heart began pounding violently against her chest the moment she saw the doorknob move.
For a second she froze, unable to breathe.
Someone was there.
Someone had finally heard her.
Hope surged through her chest so suddenly it almost made her dizzy. She stumbled backward from the door, staring at it as if afraid the movement might disappear if she blinked.
The knob turned slowly.
Her hands trembled.
"Hello?" she called again, her voice breaking with desperation. "Is someone there?"
Her pulse thundered in her ears as she watched the door, waiting for it to open.
But then, among the thousands of thoughts racing through her mind, one terrifying possibility forced its way forward.
What if the person opening the door wasn't there to help her?
What if the person was dangerous?
Her breathing faltered as the thought formed completely.
What if the person was… a vampire?
The books she had read about vampires a few days ago came rushing back into her mind all at once. Their unending crave for blood, their merciless hearts, and unnatural gifts.
Her heart pounded harder.
Christiana's blue eyes darted frantically around the room, searching for anything she could use to defend herself. A broken chair leg, a candle holder, even a loose stone—anything she could grab if the worst happened.
But there was nothing in the room that could inflict pain.
There was nothing.
And before she could even decide what to do next, the door finally opened.
The wooden frame creaked as it slowly swung inward.
Christiana turned toward it immediately. Standing in the doorway was a tall man.
For a moment, neither of them spoke.
The man's dark hair had been brushed back, though a few strands had fallen loose across his forehead. His posture was calm and composed, yet the expression on his face carried clear confusion.
Robert stared at her. He hadn't expected to find anyone behind the door.
And certainly not this.
Before him stood a young woman dressed in a man's attire. The clothes hung slightly loose on her frame, and her long hair had been hastily tied back. Her breathing was uneven, as though she had been shouting for quite some time.
Robert's eyes narrowed slightly.
How did she get here?
More importantly…
Why was she locked inside this room?
There was only one person in the castle who would do something like this without explanation.
Anthony.
The thought settled in his mind almost instantly.
Robert remained silent for a few seconds, studying the frightened girl in front of him. Her wide blue eyes stared back at him with a mixture of hope and fear.
Then, without saying a word, he stepped back.
The door slowly closed.
Click.
The sound of the lock sliding back into place echoed in the quiet hallway.
Robert turned and walked away as if nothing had happened.
Inside the room, everything happened so quickly that Christiana barely understood what was occurring.
By the time she realized the door had been shut again, the man was already gone.
Her heart dropped.
"No!" she shouted suddenly, rushing toward the door.
She grabbed the handle and began banging against the wood again.
"Wait! Please let me out!"
Her fists struck the door repeatedly, desperation filling every movement.
"Please!" she cried. "LET ME OUT!"
But the hallway beyond remained silent.
Slowly, her strength began to fade.
Christiana sank to the floor, her back sliding down the door until she was sitting against it. Her hands trembled in her lap as tears gathered in her eyes.
She blinked rapidly, refusing to let them fall.
If she allowed herself to cry now, she feared she might completely break.
And deep down, she knew one thing with terrifying certainty.
If she lost control of herself here…
It would only be a matter of time before she was killed.
Robert pushed the door to the study open without knocking.
The heavy wooden door creaked softly as it swung inward, revealing the dimly lit room beyond. The curtains had been drawn halfway, allowing the fading orange glow of the evening sun to spill across the polished floor and the large oak desk in the center.
Anthony was already there.
He sat lazily in the chair behind the desk, his boots resting on the table as though he owned not only the room but the entire castle. His head leaned back against the high backrest, and his eyes were closed, as if he were resting rather than ruling over a kingdom of shadows.
At first glance, he looked completely relaxed.
But Robert knew better.
Without speaking, Robert walked further into the room and took the chair opposite the desk. The wood creaked slightly beneath his weight as he sat down, his posture straight and controlled.
"The witch is at Willow Woods," Robert said calmly.
His voice cut through the silence of the room.
Anthony didn't react.
Not a twitch. Not a word. Not even the slightest shift in his expression.
Robert watched him for a moment, his gaze steady.
Then he continued.
"Why is there a girl here?"
That question finally stirred a response.
Anthony's lips curved faintly, though his eyes remained closed.
"She's the most important piece of the puzzle," he replied.
His voice was calm, almost amused, as if the answer should have been obvious.
Robert's brow furrowed.
"Why?"
Anthony finally opened his eyes.
Slowly, he lowered his boots from the table and leaned forward in his chair. The movement carried a quiet deliberateness, as though he had been expecting that question.
Reaching into the pocket of his coat, Anthony pulled something out.
Without explaining, he extended his hand across the desk toward Robert.
Robert hesitated for a moment before taking it.
His fingers closed around a small, smooth object.
He brought it closer to his face, studying it under the fading light from the window.
"A pearl?" he said, raising a brow in confusion.
It was perfectly round and pale, reflecting the light with a soft, almost unnatural glow.
Anthony's smile deepened slightly.
"No," he corrected.
"That's her tear."
Robert's eyes widened immediately.
Shock flickered across his usually composed expression as he looked back down at the small object resting in his palm.
A tear… that had hardened into a pearl.
The implications of that were impossible to ignore.