She peeked in carefully, warily. Her eyes narrowed, because she saw none of her underlings, the main kitchens completely void.

Good.

She walked in slowly, her imposing figure still able to be sneaky if she so wished. No one saw her get out of her chambers and lurk towards this room, not even her brethren sensing her. Ever since she awoke from her sleep, she had wanted to bring as little attention to herself as possible. But of course, that was not easy to accomplish, not when everybody kept trying to inquire how she was handling her awakening.

Everyone felt drawn to her, wishing to aid her. Vampires and servants kept on suggesting the intake of blood, something that she could not bear to stomach. She had managed to make them leave her alone for many days, against all odds. All respected her, perhaps due to slight fear, which she did not wish to inflict.

All her court would obey her when she demanded some space and quiet, in one way or another. Sadly, there was one who could not be considered a subordinate, and who she did not control. Now, that one, she truly could bring into submission like all the others. She really could, quite easily. But it was not so simple, as strange as it sounded.

Nerys looked all around, fidgeting with her hair as she stepped towards the counters, tentatively. She expected somebody to enter the kitchens at any moment, something that would cause her to walk away and hide, again.

She sighed after a minute of paranoia, because nobody walked in. No one would think she was there, much less at dawn. Rarely anyone came here anyway. Servants had their own kitchens, and vampires barely ate. Only blood gave them the sustain they needed, their bodies enduring a state similar to death.

Granted, they sometimes did enjoy a good meal. Food could make the hunger fade faintly, for minutes or hours, depending on what kind. They still cherished the act, but they did not need it. Eating was a waste of resources, which humans could use instead.

Nerys brushed the counters with a claw, remembering a voice that brought her love for food. Every time Lyssa would prepare something for her by a fire, she would watch intently how her soft hands moved. She never became as skilled as her, yet she treasured all those moments.

Perhaps she did not need this physically, but she did emotionally. A servant could do this for her, prepare a grand feast, yet that was not what she wanted. She smiled sadly, reaching for one cabinet, in which ingredients were preserved. Doing this alone helped her quiet the whispers, and her laments.

“Let’s see…”

She took a knife and proceeded to mimic her moves, which she had come to memorize in her absence. In a minute, she had cut multiple vegetables into slices. She could have used her own claws, which were sharper, but right now she wanted to feel human.

The more she focused, the more her smile would grow. Her fangs began to peek, without her even realizing it. She felt a small trace of joy as she let her mind fixate on the task, all the voices growing silent for a while.

She moved by the counter, giving her back to the door. An hour passed, and the food was almost done, emanating a pleasant smell. It was not a complex meal, but a homely one, as she always made them.

Nerys did not hear the door creaking ever so slightly, something she would have noticed in any other moment. She was unaware of how a grey eye peeked through the open crack, moments before the door was pushed softly, carefully and slowly.

Bastian leaned there at the doorframe, staring at Nerys with a concerned and annoyed look on his face. He could see the sickening paleness on her skin, the dark circles around her eyes, and the subtle hints of pain in her slow moves.

It bothered him, but he kept quiet this time. He had chased her around all week, trying to reason, make her see that she needed to feed eventually. Seeing her this pained haunted him, more than she could imagine.

She had avoided him well, even if he could roam almost everywhere. He had been noting mentally where she liked to be. She always went to the tall towers, secluded rooms, and the armoury he could not access.

Bastian was not surprised to see Nerys in the kitchens. Lyssa always used to light a fire for them, first with a flint, then with her own smoking hands. Her improvised stews had saved them from going hungry many times, and they were much more appealing than the insipid rations they were usually given.

Now, he would have spoken up, maybe stepped close. But he knew that confronting her would only make her growl and flee. With that notion, he stood there, watching her smile joyfully. It was something he had not seen since her departure, when she was still human.

He did not want to speak up and break the silence, not yet. There was no sadness or self-hate at the moment, and he knew those things would come back the second she looked away from the food. And so, he moved, silently. Like her, he knew how to sneak. She did not hear him step near the table, or sit calmly on a chair. He made no sound, even his breathing quiet and controlled, as not to alert her sharp senses.

She was completely oblivious of his presence. It made him grin smugly, while leaning on the table. He had a close view of her claws, that even if dangerous looking, were extremely gentle. She was handling the task with care, trying to be as mindful as her. He recognized the smell of the stew very well.

A few minutes passed, and those eyes filled with glee, considering the food done. A vegetable stew, with a little meat added in it, even if that ingredient was rare in the past. With a satisfied sigh, she grabbed a ladle and poured some in a bowl. She turned around to place it on the table, and then she froze.

Bastian kept himself seated, tapping his fingers on the table as Nerys finally noticed him. He stayed calm, while her eyes widened slowly. She stood there like a fool, shocked. When he spoke, he did as if nothing, something that almost made her stammer.

“Morning, Nerys.”

“Y-you-” He rolled his eyes, because she snarled as soon as she overcame her surprise, or at least tried. “W-what are you doing here?! Are you going to tell me to drink blood again?! I won’t-!”

“Actually…” She frowned in bafflement, because he raised a finger, only to point it tiredly at her. “That was not my first intention, but I may do it anyway because catching you off-guard is not easy. I am not that good at plotting, so finding you here was a mere coincidence. Trust me, I simply came into the kitchen because I was hungry. I heard rustling by the counters, and I thought it was odd, because no one tends to come here. Sometimes I snatch food when no one can see, and that was my main intent now, really.”

There was an awkward silence. Nerys was still disconcerted by how laid-back Bastian was around her, even after what had happened. Every day, that attitude would only deepen. Now he was acting like if he was at home, like if there was no reason to resent her… He kept pretending that she was not a menace.

She was not dangerous in reality, but that, she did not want to admit. Only another slumber would force her to lose control in front of him, but she feared every instant by his side, her own capabilities.

Bastian grew tired of the silence and her doubt. Once more, he was the one to make the first step to solve what could be fixed. He decided to address something easy to correct, before anything else.

“Nerys, you’re going to drop the bowl.”

She gasped and raised her claws slightly, realizing she had been lowering them, almost dropping the food in her daze. He watched her carefully, because he noticed how she took a step back, hinting her intentions.

“Don’t leave, please.” She halted, doubting as he called, trying to sound reassuring. “I won’t say a word about blood if you just sit and eat, I promise.”

He knew food could help slightly, and it was a fact that he would not convince her to satiate her hunger today. She was by the counter; only a small move was needed for her to leave the bowl, something that would allow her to bolt freely.

Their gazes met, both calculating. They had argued all week, every time they crossed paths, obstinately and apprehensively. That was why he smiled when she glared, stepping closer begrudgingly, with the food still in hand.

He did raise an eyebrow when she did not sit, pushing the bowl towards him instead. He did not question her, because he soon understood when she neared the counter again. She filled another one and sat in front of him, not without an exasperated sigh.

Bastian glanced back and forth between the food and her. It was something that Nerys did not like much, and which she quickly scolded.

“Weren’t you hungry?”

He shrugged, dismissive.

“I am, yes. But I won’t try it until you take a bite.” He slapped himself mentally, quickly raising a hand to clarify his words, because she was now scowling. “I mean the food! I want you to eat the stew, not… that other red thing.”

She stared at him blankly, noting how his lips quivered in a nervous smile. He was sure she would roll her eyes and leave, but he was only partially correct. She did find his comment awfully stupid, yet she stayed put and began to eat. As if to mock his words, she bit strongly into the chunk of meat she took, keeping her sharp eyes on him. Once she swallowed, she raised an eyebrow and asked bitterly, with veiled affability in her tone.

“Happy?”

He nodded, finally grabbing his spoon to eat as well.

“Yes… Now you might stop sulking, at least for a while.”

She shook her head, scoffing, finding their conversation absurd.

“I really don’t know why I’m still here, listening to you.”

She was sure he would try to convince her to drink blood, as soon as she was finished eating. He made another suggestion instead, one that was backhanded and slightly inquisitive.

“Hmm, I can’t figure out something as well…” Nerys blinked as Bastian brushed his neck, faking a thoughtful look and an absentminded tone. “I really have this strange feeling of dejavu, you know? This is the first time you’ve made a meal and shared it with me, ever since I’ve been here at least. Yet the familiarity I feel now is not that novel. I simply can’t understand, it’s like I have tasted something like this before, not that long ago. Was it perhaps… inside a cell?”

He was laughing internally, keeping down a smirk as he eyed her subtly. Meanwhile, she was having trouble containing her own reaction. There was a faint blush on her pale cheeks, her eyes were wide, and her mouth was opening in bafflement. She was clearly embarrassed and at a loss of words, so he chose to taunt her even more.

“Ah, what am I saying, it was just a delusion of mine. When the food got better I surely began to fantasize like a fool, recalling her simple yet thoughtful recipes. It was all in my head…”

Bastian finally took pity of her bafflement, focusing on eating, calmly. He smiled while she sat frozen, her mind still trying to process his verbal jabs. His next comment was more for himself than her.

“This stew is something else. It’s made with love.”

She did not say a word when he moved the bowl away from himself, done eating. He stood from his chair and walked towards the door with a faint smile, only halting to say two words.

“Thanks, Nerys.”

As soon as he said that, he left. He did not admonish her for not feeding, and he made no demands or questions. They did not part with incensed glares, and there were no curses or yells. She slowly looked down at her own food, to then close her eyes with a frown. She kept her claws still around the bowl, not intending on leaving. She pondered sadly, but calmly.

————–

His hand opened, sharply. He did not even look as his fangs slid out of the flesh, the corpse dropping sideways as he let go. There was no blood or life left in the thrall. He let out a long sigh, making himself comfortable on his throne, while eyeing everything with contempt. That included his own claw, which he kept raised over his eyes, pridefully.

He stared at his small nails, which had barely grown and toughened over the upper half of his fingers. Even if not impressive, it was still something. He was developing one of the most common traits of his kin, at last.

A scoff escaped him, because he saw one of his underlings step into the courtroom, approaching him with a firm look. The sight of his own brethren made him feel angry. All but him could pass for humans, if not for their sharper features, eyes, nails, and fangs.

How shameful.

He did not even bother to look away from his claw when the fledgling halted in front of him, bowing respectfully.

“Sire…”

He scoffed again, never liking to be bothered after feeding.

“What is it?”  

His underling hid well his apprehension, getting to the point.

“There are matters that require your attention.”

He leaned his head with a smug smirk, warning.

“If it’s not about the storage running low on blood or wine… don’t even bother.”

He did not want to waste his time with the laments of peasants. The hunger of low vampires was of no concern to him, for prey belonged to the strongest, the ones who could hunt with might in the land he owned. He truly hated to be bothered, and sadly, he would be now. The fledling insisted, now more nervously and tentatively.

“It does not regard our supplies, but it is still important. Some rebels-“

“Rebels!” He laughed, resting a hand on his chest in faked concern. “What, did they kill some weaklings again? Did they burn the farms of some humans that dared use my land? Can’t you lazy idiots hunt properly? We could use more blood, there is never too much after all. Those insurgents are only-“

“Sire.” Those dusky eyes narrowed, for he was interrupted. “They are out of control. They-“

“They are nothing! Mere fools that think they can be free, all blind to the fact that they die sooner in their disobedience! They are nothing but maggots, easy to crush under-“

“They have killed a lord.”

He finally took the words of his fledgling seriously, taken aback.

“Ah…” He laughed, but not in a joyful manner. “What did you just say?”

The soldier snarled, explaining in detail, glad to finally have the attention of his lord.

“There are more insurgents than usual, in organized squads. They have been assaulting settlements past the outer borders for some time. In fact, they have managed to siege the capital of the weakest clan there. Their turf is no longer part of our dominion, but disputed territory. They are assembling, more aggressively than usual. We are not dealing with small groups and rogues, sire, they are mimicking our forces. Nonetheless, the situation is still under control; the loss of that lord was insignificant, for it was a young one. But such slaying is a show of defiance that we should pay mind to. They could dare to cross more borders, and go forth. Few clans are between them and us.”

The soldier waited nervously as everything settled into the calculative mind of his sire, who rested back on his throne, tapping one nail against his fangs.

A lord was slain, near his domain. It was not strange for young ones to be killed in disputed lands, where most would try to settle and submit free men, in hopes of starting a realm of their own. Inside their grand established empire, however, such strikes were not common. The insurgents were venturing into their vast mainland, where humans were subdued and the rule of clans was undisputed. It was improbable, but if those territories were breached, his would be at risk.

He kept quiet for a minute, pondering. Eventually, he pierced the messenger with a glare, commanding with an angry and hateful grin.

“We may need to address this matter, indeed.” He snorted and looked away, already considering how to deal with it. “To ensure our clan does not suffer great losses, we may have to… argue with one of our dear neighbours.”

He loathed all other lords, but any clan was better than the one of that winged imp. He could not stand him, and the fact that he had survived his small ploy only made him bitterer. Humans were useless, a pest that never learnt and only served as fodder.

He would not humiliate himself by dealing with weaker clans, so the choice was clear to him. With a small smile, he snatched a goblet of blood and stood, waving his underling away.

“Gather my officials. We are going to arrange a small visit… We need to keep close ties with our allies.”

Before the soldier could walk away, he gasped and raised a nail, laughing.

“Ah, before I forget!” He pointed sideways, his eyes showing pure malice as he motioned at the corpse. “Get this thing out of my sight. It’s useless now.”

“Of course, sire.”

He smiled, tasting the blood mixed with wine, not even looking as the dead human was dragged away. His attention was fixated on a window, through which he could see the setting sun. The horizon was red, and darkness was settling. It made his eyes glint, almost glow in the shadows.