The meal was soooo good🤤

   Vampires.

   In myths, they were the predators of the night—pale-skinned creatures with unnatural beauty and long, sharp fangs, feeding on the blood of the living. They were feared as monsters who hunted in darkness and turned to ash under the first touch of sunlight.

   But that was the image I knew from my world.

   One of Zephyra’s books told a slightly different story. Back during the World War, they weren’t so different from the legends. They did lurk in the night, and the sun could burn their flesh to nothing. That weakness was their downfall. And as the result their population faced extinction.

   So they made a gamble.

   They began to procreate with other races, hoping to birth children who could endure the light. 

   At first, most attempts failed. Some newborns bore grotesque mutations; others never drew a breath at all. Years passed with little progress—until they discovered a great compatibility with devils. That union gave them offsprings strong enough to overcome the sun. 

   They are still called vampires, even though they are mix of vampire's and devil's blood. After all there are no "true" vampires these days.

   Anyway—enough history. Let’s go to the main topic.

   After the battle ended and Lilith nearly drained me dry, I spent the entire day unconscious.

   Luckily my room laid on the far wing of the Vermillion residence, untouched by the devastation beasts had caused. 

   When I woke, Zephyra explained what had happened while I slept. Reinforcements had arrived—Rex among them—and together they took the frozen Hydra away. It was already on its way to a laboratory, where researchers would dissect the mystery of its transformation.

   The mansion, however, had not escaped unscathed. The audience room was still a block of solid ice. Windows and outer walls had shattered from the force of battle. Even worse, Hydra’s toxins had seeped into the stone foundation, reaching lower floors. 

   Renovations will take months.

   Meanwhile, the Silverbane investigation began in earnest. More of their “farms” were discovered, and survivors were transferred to shelters made by Victoria’s organization. There, treatment had begun, both for those affected by drugs and those haunted by trauma.

   Everything was moving in the right direction. But there was still one last matter to resolve...

* * *

   Luna opened the heavy oak door with a polite bow, stepping aside for Bel and me to enter first.

   “Excuse us,” I murmured.

   The moment the door swung wide, a wave of mouthwatering aromas flooded out—rich roasted meats, the sweet perfume of baked pastries, the tang of fresh herbs, and the comforting warmth of freshly baked bread. My stomach growled traitorously.

   The dining hall stretched grand and refined, lit by crystal chandeliers that glimmered over a long table laden with dishes. Roasted duck glistened under a honey glaze. Bowls of steaming soup. Platters of vegetables, sautéed in butter and sprinkled with herbs.

   At the table, Zephyra, Lilith, Sylvia, Rex, Liam, and Laura were already seated. Bel scurried to the chair beside mine, eyes sparkling at the meals, while I eased myself into my own seat.

   But one chair remained empty.

   I turned to see Luna standing stiffly behind me, hands folded neatly before her. 

   “Luna, why aren’t you sitting?” I asked.

   Her eyes flicked to me, then away. “As a maid, it would be improper to sit at a formal dinner like this.”

   Sylvia’s voice carried gently across the table. “It doesn’t bother me,” she said, her single eye soft. “I would feel worse making you stand when you helped protect our territory.”

   Luna shook her head quickly. “I didn’t do that much. I simply protected Master—.”

   “Stop,” I cut in, my tone firmer than usual. “When someone offers gratitude you should accept it. Besides—if it weren’t for you, I’d be dead right now. I want you here, too.”

   Her composure cracked faintly, a flush creeping up her ears. Finally, after a moment of hesitation, she bowed her head slightly. 

   “Understood.” She slipped quietly into the chair beside mine, stiff at first, then easing just enough to pick up her utensils.

   The meal began, and the room filled with the quiet clink of cutlery and the occasional hum of appreciation. Every bite confirmed what the aromas had promised—succulent, tender meats that melted on the tongue, soups rich with layered flavors, bread so soft it nearly dissolved at first touch, leaving only a buttery warmth. Maybe I overreacted since I was hungry after sleeping the whole day, but it was delicious.

   When the plates were finally cleared away, and servants withdrew, Sylvia folded her hands gracefully on the table. Her voice, calm but commanding, carried easily across the room.

   “I believe,” she said, “this is a good time to move on to the main topic.”

   Zephyra leaned back in her chair, her expression shifting into something more serious. 

   “Agreed.”