Before I could respond, a sharp female voice rang out.
"Who are you? And why did you destroy the City's Waystone?"
Although the presence behind me was no threat, it still caught my attention—no one should have been able to sneak up on me. That alone warranted curiosity.
I turned slowly, eyes narrowing with interest.
Standing a few paces away was a woman, perhaps in her late twenties. Her posture was calm, but I could sense the tension simmering beneath the surface. She wore what, according to Lilya's memories, was a maid's uniform of dark fabric, modest cut, functional and unadorned. Her eyes flicked over me cautiously, studying the snowy white fabric of my clothing, the unnatural sharpness in my features, and most of all my eyes. Crimson.
That was when her body stiffened.
"You're a vampire?" she asked, though her voice hinted at no real doubt—just confirmation of what she already feared.
"I am," I replied, voice smooth and measured.
She didn't retreat, but her fingers twitched slightly, as if restraining the urge to reach for a weapon.
"What are you doing here?" she asked next, tone clipped but wary.
"Just looking around," I said, gesturing vaguely at the street behind me. "This city now lies within the borders of my territory. I thought it wise to get a sense of what I'm dealing with."
That admission unsettled her even more. Her lips parted slightly before she caught herself, voice tightening further.
"Your territory?" she repeated, like the words had scraped against her throat.
I nodded with a faint smile, amused. "Correct."
There was a brief silence.
"You're a Vampire Progenitor, aren't you?" she asked at last, her voice no more than a whisper now. Fear threaded its way between each syllable.
I dipped my head slightly, offering mock courtesy. "Will Von Mortis, at your service," I said lightly, enjoying the way her eyes widened.
She hesitated, then pushed forward. "Did you bring this city here?"
I raised a brow. "No. That was the doing of the clan that awakened me. Unfortunately, they didn't survive the encounter."
Her gaze sharpened. "What do you mean?"
"They attacked me moments after I awoke. Foolish. I killed them all."
I said it plainly. I saw no reason to hide the truth,my power was a fact but not a threat. Besides, transparency had a way of disarming mortals, especially when laced with confidence.
Her throat bobbed as she swallowed. "Then why destroy the Waystone?"
"To keep your people from fleeing the moment I appeared," I replied with a calm shrug.
"So you do have hostile intentions," she said slowly, her voice cautious but now probing.
"If I did," I said with a smile that didn't reach my eyes, "I wouldn't be standing here having this conversation. I would've leveled the city by now."
A silence fell between us as that truth sank in.
Eventually, she exhaled—a small, nervous laugh slipping past her lips. "I suppose that's true," she said, voice softer now.
"I'd like to speak to whoever's in charge of the city," I stated plainly, shifting the conversation forward.
She looked me over, gauging whether I was still playing some deeper game. I kept my expression open, neutral. There was no need for theatrics now.
"And," I added with a faint smirk, "I'd like to bring my companion along."
She raised an eyebrow. "I haven't even agreed to take you, and you want to bring someone else?"
"Well," I said, letting a slight edge bleed into my tone, "you don't have much of a choice. I'm being polite for my companion's sake but that courtesy has its limits. I am a Vampire Progenitor. I could bring this city to its knees with a whisper. I expect that to be respected."
Her demeanor shifted instantly. The fear returned, but now tempered by survival instinct. Her tone became more formal.
"Understood. I'll take you to the Governess. Will your companion be joining you now?"
I called out to Lilya with a thought. You can come now.
Okay, she replied.
A moment later, she appeared beside me. The woman flinched at the sudden arrival, eyes widening slightly in surprise.
Lilya looked between us, then down at the ground, visibly unsure. She wasn't used to being on the same side as the monsters from her childhood stories. Her posture was hesitant, her steps small.
I leaned closer and said gently, "Relax. We're not here to cause trouble. You don't have to worry about being seen as hostile."
Lilya gave me a sideways look. "You kind of lost the right to say that when you destroyed their Waystone."
I chuckled, pleased that my comment eased her tension a bit. Her retort felt like a good sign—humor and even cautiousness, meant she hadn't lost her footing completely.
The maid led us through the quiet streets. Shadows clung to the edges of buildings, and the moonlight cast everything in pale silver. The city was eerily silent, likely still reeling from whatever magic had pulled it from its home.
After about five minutes, we arrived at a large estate with tall iron gates, carefully kept grounds, and wide windows trimmed in gold. We stepped inside, our footsteps echoing faintly through the marble halls. She led us to a room that appeared to be a waiting area, though I could only guess by cross-referencing Lilya's memories.
"Please wait here," the maid said. "I'll inform the Governess of your arrival. Though, since it's late, it may take her some time to wake up and prepare to meet you."
"No trouble at all," I said smoothly. "I understand the limitations of your kind's inconvenient hours."
"Thank you for your understanding," she said, bowing slightly. And with that, she turned and left us alone in the soft, lamp-lit quiet of the room.
* * *
Elsewhere in the manor
Ariel Ray Servornius stood motionless before the ornate double doors of her lady's chamber, her hand hovering just shy of the handle. A knot twisted in her stomach as she rehearsed what she would say. How exactly did one inform their mistress that a Vampire Progenitor was waiting in the manor?
After a deep breath to steady herself, she pushed the door open and slipped quietly into the dimly lit room.
The air inside was hushed, filled with the soft rustle of silk curtains and the faint scent of lavender. Against the far wall stood a grand canopy bed, its heavy drapes partially drawn. Sprawled across the mattress was a young woman, her deep royal blue hair spilling like ink over a mound of pillows an unmistakable mark of the Grandoble lineage.
Loretta Ray Grandoble lay fast asleep, her breaths slow and steady, lashes brushing pale cheeks. The exhaustion in her face was unmistakable. Since the city of Garandale had been wrenched from its homeland two days prior, she had scarcely allowed herself a moment of rest. This was the first time she had truly slept. And now, Ariel had to wake her.
Guilt pricked at her conscience, but there was no choice.
"My Lady," she whispered, approaching the bed. "Please wake up. There's a matter that urgently requires your attention."
Loretta stirred faintly, brows creasing as her voice mumbled from beneath a sheet.
"Just five more minutes."
The soft whine of her voice made Ariel wince. Still, she pressed on, placing a gentle hand on her lady's shoulder.
"I'm terribly sorry to interrupt, but… the survival of the city may depend on this."
That seemed to strike home.
Loretta exhaled sharply and forced herself upright, pushing away the fog of sleep. Ariel immediately stepped forward to support her, helping her into a seated position.
"What's the issue?" Loretta asked, voice still groggy but now tinged with concern.
Ariel didn't sugarcoat it.
"A Vampire Progenitor and his companion—likely his Blood Consort—have appeared within the city. The Progenitor destroyed the Waystone and I encountered him at the site. After a brief exchange, he requested an audience with the city's leadership. He also made it abundantly clear—without subtlety—that refusal could mean the city's destruction."
Loretta's eyes narrowed, fully awake now.
"Where is he?"
"I placed him in one of the manor's waiting rooms. I told him you were asleep and needed time to prepare, so you do have a moment to gather yourself."
"Thank you," Loretta said, throwing the covers aside. "But we dare not keep a Progenitor waiting."
Without another word, she stood, and Ariel moved to assist her. Within half an hour, the Governess was dressed in a deep navy gown that mirrored the hue of her hair. Her posture was regal, her expression composed, but Ariel could see the tension in her shoulders—the heavy weight of the burden she bore.
Together, they walked the silent corridors of the manor, the hallways lit by flickering sconces and the silver glow of the pre-dawn moon outside.
At the waiting room doors, Loretta paused and knocked once—firm and measured.
Inside, Will and Lilya turned at the sound. When the door opened, Loretta stepped inside, every inch the noble ruler she had been raised to be.
"I am Loretta Ray Grandoble, Governess of Garandale," she said, her voice clear and unwavering. Her gaze settled on the man before her, the figure with alabaster skin and burning crimson eyes.
"So, Vampire Progenitor Will Von Mortis, for what reason have you requested an audience with me?"