Chapter 19: The Master

“Master... do you want to drink blood?”

Carola had only just awakened from her slumber. The moment she pushed open the lid of her coffin, she saw Felice leaning against it, asking that very question.

?

Even Carola felt a question mark rise in her mind.

She could not comprehend Felice’s unusual behavior.

In the past, she had always taken the initiative to drink blood on her own. Why was it being offered to her today?

“What is going on with you today? Why are you suddenly asking that?”

Carola raised her hand and placed it against Felice’s forehead.

The temperature was normal. There was no sign of illness or fever.

“I am not sick, meow!”

Felice slapped Carola’s hand away.

Carola pushed herself up against the edge of the coffin and sat upright. Her white hair cascaded over her shoulders like moonlight. She wore a thin black silk nightgown, its neckline slightly open, exposing her pale, delicate collarbones.

She continued staring at Felice in silence until Felice began to grow uneasy beneath that unwavering gaze.

“I-I just thought... you did not drink enough last night, right? Meow?”

Even Felice felt awkward voicing it.

Who would ever willingly offer themselves to be bitten?

She truly must have lost her mind.

But if her blood could genuinely affect Carola—if it could allow this blood princess who had awakened the Primordial Blood to reveal once more that restrained gentleness from last night—

Then giving a little more… would it make her better?

At the very least, she would not turn into one of the madwomen recorded in the books.

“Ha...”

Carola let out a low chuckle.

The sound was soft, yet it made Felice’s fur bristle.

“Felice,” Carola extended her hand and lightly hooked a finger beneath Felice’s chin, “do you know what it means, in vampire tradition, to voluntarily invite one of our kind to drink your blood?”

“It means... w-what?”

Felice stammered, suddenly nervous.

She had only been thinking about offering her blood to ease Carola’s condition—and perhaps gain some attribute points along the way.

Had she inadvertently triggered some vampire taboo?

“It means I have completely conquered you.”

Carola’s thumb brushed gently across Felice’s lower lip.

“So that is what it means... it is fine, it is fine. If I take the initiative, it saves you trouble. Besides, we already signed a master-servant contract. That is not much different from being conquered...”

Felice patted her chest, attempting to conceal her guilty conscience.

Being conquered was something she would never admit!

“I do not see it that way.”

Carola cupped Felice’s face with both hands.

Her palms were cool against warm skin, and the stark contrast in temperature made Felice tremble faintly.

“But this time...” Carola leaned closer, her breath brushing against Felice’s face, “as you wish.”

Carola did not bite immediately. Instead, she first pressed a gentle kiss to Felice’s neck.

Felice felt the muscles along her neck gradually relax beneath those soft kisses.

Then came a faint sound.

The anticipated sting followed, yet it was gentler than ever before.

She could clearly feel Carola swallowing—slowly, steadily, almost reverently, as though performing part of a solemn ritual.

Time seemed to stretch endlessly. Everything around them faded into silence, leaving only the intertwined rhythm of their breathing and the faint sound of blood flowing.

A slight dizziness from blood loss spread through her, yet at the same time, an indescribable warmth radiated from her neck throughout her body.

After an indeterminate span of time, Carola finally withdrew her fangs.

She did not release Felice. Instead, she lightly licked the two small wounds, not allowing a single drop of blood to go to waste.

Under the effect of the Gift, the wounds closed quickly, leaving behind marks that could not be erased.

Carola then lifted her head and met Felice’s eyes.

Felice was already somewhat dazed. She glanced at Carola hazily.

Before she could utter a word, she lost the last of her strength and collapsed against Carola, slipping into unconsciousness.

...

Felice opened her eyes and stared up at the canopy above her.

‘Why does this place feel unfamiliar? Where am I?’

The confined space and the faint woody scent lingering in the air felt strange.

“Is this... inside Carola’s coffin?”

The realization cleared her mind at once.

She sat up abruptly and confirmed that she was indeed inside the coffin where Carola slept.

Carola was nowhere in the room.

Felice opened the system interface and discovered that, this time, after Carola drank her blood, her attribute points had increased in Charm.

Her Charm had risen from twenty points to twenty-five points.

Thinking about it, Felice grew curious about how an increase in Charm would manifest.

Would it make her prettier?

Supporting her still slightly weakened body, she slowly climbed out of the coffin.

She already had good control over her movements. Although she felt faint, her steps were no longer unsteady.

“Why are there hardly any mirrors in the castle?”

Felice muttered. She wanted to look at herself in a mirror to observe the change in her Charm, but only now did she remember—

‘Right... vampires do not cast reflections in mirrors.’

“Grrr...”

Her stomach growled.

Felice pushed open the door and headed toward the dining hall.

When she arrived, she found the long table empty. The puppet attendants were nowhere to be seen.

Felice froze.

Had she missed the midnight meal?

She pulled out a chair and sat down, silently reflecting on her luck.

Fortunately, she was not quite that unlucky.

Soft footsteps echoed through the hall.

Felice looked up and saw Carola walking slowly from the opposite end of the dining hall.

She had changed out of her nightgown and now wore simple yet impeccably tailored black attire. Subtle patterns were embroidered along the collar and cuffs, lending her a distinctive elegance.

To Felice’s surprise, Carola was carrying a tray of steaming food.

“Grrr...”

Felice’s stomach growled again.

“You are awake?” Carola approached and set the tray before Felice. “I was just about to go call you.”

Felice examined the food.

It was still her favorite fish dish, though this time it was not grilled but stewed in cream.

There was also a small bowl of fruit salad.

Carola sat across from her, resting her elbows on the table, fingers interlaced beneath her chin, her gaze fixed intently on Felice’s face as though studying something.

Felice picked up a spoon and began sipping the soup in small mouthfuls.

The warmth of the food eased her lingering discomfort.

She stole a glance at Carola and noticed her expression remained calm. For the moment, there were almost no traces of that obsessive temperament.

‘Is my blood... truly that magical?’

“How did I end up sleeping in your coffin? Meow?”

Being watched so closely made her uneasy, so Felice attempted to change the subject.

“You fainted. Was I supposed to leave you on the floor?”

Carola’s crimson eyes shifted slightly, though they remained fixed on Felice.

“I-I suppose that makes sense...”

Felice lowered her head and continued eating the fish.

“Aren’t you eating?”

She looked up again, puzzled.

“I have already eaten. And it was even voluntarily offered to my mouth...”