Episode 52

The thin fabric of her slip, barely revealing glimpses of her skin, was utterly enticing. Kyle didn’t even dare to look properly. Just the briefest glance was enough to set his face ablaze.

“We should sleep separately.”

Rosanna didn’t understand. Did theological teachings truly demand such restraint?

“What about the promise?”

“I don’t think I can keep it.”

His voice carried the weight of absolute certainty. She knew why—he had slipped once before, and she had no intention of truly honoring their ‘just hugging’ agreement, either. But Kyle was being unexpectedly firm.

In times like these, it was best to step back. Just a little patience. It wouldn’t be long before he was completely within her grasp.

“Fine. We’ll sleep separately.”

Rosanna lay down, facing Kyle’s direction. Their postures mirrored each other. In the dim light, she studied his face.

It felt almost like childhood play. A night so restrained had its own charm.

“I have a question.”

“What is it?”

“What did the letter say?”

“It was just about setting a meeting. A date and time. There’s something I need to talk about.”

“And you can’t say it now?”

“I have to tell you there. It has to be at that place.”

Curiosity flickered in Kyle’s eyes.

“Read it when I’m gone. After you wake up.”

Rosanna pulled the blanket up to her chin, as if preparing to sleep.

“Alright. Goodnight.”

Silence settled over the room. Kyle soon drifted off, his breath steady and deep. Somewhere in the back of his mind, a distant hum echoed—like an old music box playing underwater.

The lullaby lingered by his side through the night.

* * *

“Have you heard the rumors? People are dying.”

“What nonsense. My brother can read, and he said the newspapers are full of trivial gossip.”

“They must be covering it up. Damn, you can’t trust anyone in this world.”

Wherever one went, the streets were abuzz with rumors. A serial killer was on the loose, a monster existed, it was all just a scare tactic to keep people indoors at night, the police were incompetent—truth and false twisted together into fear, leading to chaos, both large and small.

In parliament, the royalists and the aristocrats were at each other’s throats, while in the streets, crime and violence ran rampant. From the outside, Britna looked like a powerful nation basking in its golden age, but in reality, it was little more than a cesspool.

Even the Senate recognized the severity of the situation.

“We can’t let this continue. We must take action!”

“The Order of the Holy Cross must be behind this. This is no longer just isolated incidents. The Britna faction has always been docile—why would they suddenly act like rabid dogs?”

“I agree. There must be a reason for their rampage. Perhaps they were drugged with something that suppresses restraint.”

“I wonder what the Crow Unit has been doing. This should have been handled before it got to this point.”

A heavy silence settled over the round table. The Senate leader, who had been listening quietly, dismissed the meeting. Without a full grasp of the situation, no solutions could be proposed.

After the last senator left the chamber, the leader turned his gaze toward a shadowed corner of the room. Someone was standing there, concealed in the darkness.

“I’d like to hear your opinion, Sir Pepita. What do you make of this situation?”

“What would an old man who has retired from the frontlines know?”

“You met with the Crow Unit recently and heard their investigation report, did you not?”

The Senate leader removed his monocle, wiped away the dust, and put it back on. Still, he received no answer. The figure in the shadows remained a bystander.

“You intended to protect Viscountess Dacia, didn’t you? You even requested to be appointed as her steward. I assumed you wanted to stay close and guard her. It seems to me you have ties to the Enache family—”

“It appears you have forgotten our agreement.”

Pepita very nearly said something he shouldn’t have out of frustration. The leader coughed awkwardly to smooth things over and changed his tone.

“Then, as a creation of the Ancestor, I ask you as his proxy—answer me.”

At this shift in deference, Pepita Elgon’s gaze sharpened.

“I cannot presume to speak for him. I am merely his eyes and ears.”

“I’m not asking for the slumbering one’s response, but for your counsel.”

Despite his age, the dhampir had not lost an ounce of his formidable presence. Stepping out from the shadows, he spoke:

“There’s a leak. That means there’s a traitor among us.”

“No suspects have surfaced in our investigation.”

“You only investigated half-bloods. That’s the trap—they want you to suspect everyone.”

“I doubt any vampir would ally with the Order of the Holy Cross… but I suppose it’s possible.”

Pepita turned toward the door, as if to leave.

“For now, I’ll be borrowing your shadow.”

“The Crow Unit’s true loyalty lies with you, Sir. Please use them as you see fit.”

Leaving the meeting chamber, Pepita walked through the quiet corridors toward the courtyard. With each column he passed, the number of figures trailing behind him grew.

The first shadow to follow him stepped up beside him.

“The vampir you had us watch appears to be the traitor. Shall we dispose of them?”

“Leave them be. Let them leak more information and observe the other side’s reaction.”

It turned out to be the right choice. A few days later, there was movement.

Pepita Elgon and the Crow Unit entered a back alley to confirm a lead. What they found was a well-preserved corpse.

“This one is different from the others recently discovered. No signs of exsanguination.”

“…I recognize this face. It’s obvious who they were targeting.”

“You mean Lady Enache?”

Pepita Elgon’s expression darkened as he approached the body. It belonged to a blood merchant, and despite being dead for days, the condition was eerily pristine—like a body just pulled from a frozen vault.

“It’s a trap. If this had been found in the morning, the Senate would have been suspicious. I’ll remove it immediately.”

“Wait.”

The corpse’s hand was clenched tightly, the position unnaturally rigid—as if it had been arranged to conceal something.

“Open their hand.”

A Crow Unit soldier pried open the frozen fingers. Resting in the palm was a small brooch, engraved with the Enache family’s crest and initials.

He handed it to Pepita Elgon.

“It appears to be genuine.”

“…So, they stole it back then.”

“Do you have someone in mind?”

Pepita recalled a pitiful maid—too insignificant to be a real informant. If the Order had used her, they had likely discarded her already.

“She’s not important. We need to find the true cause of this rampage.”

“Yes, the peace treaty is on the verge of collapse. We’ll continue the investigation.”

“Look into that dhampir—Raymond.”

“We already cleared him when he settled here. Did something change?”

Pepita’s graying brows lifted slightly.

“He seems close to our master. I hope it’s just an old man’s paranoia, but in times like these, everything is suspect.”

“I’ll check his recent movements. I’ll make sure this matter is handled discreetly.”

The Crow Unit secured the body and left without a trace.

Pepita Elgon glanced up at the sky. Dawn was still a ways off. He was an observer. His role as the Ancestor’s servant was to watch and record the era in which his master slumbered. That meant deciding for himself how far he should interfere.

He returned to the townhouse, pausing at the foot of the stairs. As he was about to head to the servants’ quarters, he sensed a presence.

One in the living room. Focusing his senses, he caught the faint glow of a lamp beyond the walls.

“Master, why are you up?”

He spoke first as he entered the room. Sitting in the darkness, Rosanna slowly turned her head toward him.

“I was waiting for you. I have something to discuss, but you’re never around these days. You’ve been busy, haven’t you? They called for you again.”

“I’ve been investigating the cause of the recent vampir rampages with the Crow Unit. It may be connected to your unusual symptoms. Would you like me to report on it?”

“If you’re still investigating, that means you don’t have a definite answer yet, right? Report later. I have something else for you to do.”

Rosanna wasn’t taking the recent threat seriously. She had been caught off guard once, but she believed there was no real danger. She assumed her noble status and abilities would protect her. Arrogance was a privilege of her lineage.

From Pepita Elgon’s perspective, she was nothing but a sheltered young lady—one who had never faced true malice or handled a threat herself.

Dealing with obstacles was always a servant’s job.

So instead of ruining her mood, he waited for her to speak.

“I’m meeting Kyle tomorrow at Ingdberry Cathedral’s chapel. After the evening service. I don’t want anyone interrupting, so make sure the place is sealed off. It’s a simple task, right?”

“Understood.”

“I’m counting on you.”

Rosanna’s voice carried a hint of excitement. The fact that she had waited up just to give this order spoke volumes.

Something would happen in that chapel.

Pepita Elgon could predict as much. But he had no interest in what. His only concern was ensuring that her command was flawlessly carried out.