Lonia stood in front of Eliza's door, the tip of her nose still red, a faint puffiness around her eyes. She sniffled and raised her hand to knock three times.
A maid opened the door a crack. Seeing Lonia, she seemed about to say something, but in the end, she simply pulled the door open a bit wider.
Eliza sat in front of her vanity. Her ink-black hair was let down, and a maid was slowly running an ivory comb from the crown of her head to the tips. The mirror reflected Lonia's figure walking in.
The comb did not stop.
“Rafina is very good...”
Lonia's voice was terribly hoarse. She walked up behind Eliza, gripping the hem of her skirt with both hands until her knuckles turned white.
“I—I can be just as good as Rafina... Can't we just take her back with us... Is it really not possible...?”
The comb slipped from the ends of her hair, and the maid carefully started again from the crown. In the mirror, Eliza's red, slitted eyes were half-closed, her eyelashes casting a small shadow over her pale cheekbones.
“No.”
“But—”
“Lonia.”
Eliza raised a hand, and the maid immediately stopped combing. The long hair slipped through her fingers, draping over the shoulders of her crimson velvet nightgown. She did not turn around, only looking at her younger sister through the mirror.
“I will not say it a third time.”
Lonia's lips trembled.
She stood there, staring at her sister's reflection in the mirror for a long time. Then she turned and walked out of the room.
As the door closed behind her, she heard the sound of the comb falling upon her hair once more.
Gloom Castle's corridors were even quieter at deep night than during the day.
Lonia lay face down on the bed of the guest room assigned to her, her face buried in the pillow, motionless.
She waited for a long time.
After the footsteps in the corridor passed by and faded away for the fourth time, she rolled off the bed.
She wasn't wearing shoes.
The soles of her feet touched the cold floor, making her shiver.
The door wasn't locked. Eliza probably figured she didn't have the courage to sneak out.
Lonia pulled the door open a crack and squeezed through sideways.
The corridor was empty. Indigo phosphorescence floated overhead, casting her barefoot shadow long and thin. She walked along the base of the wall; the spiral staircase leading to the old library was at the end of the corridor.
When she reached the staircase, she saw an iron gate blocking the entrance, secured with a black iron lock the size of a fist.
The gaps in the gate were too narrow for even an arm to fit through, let alone her entire body.
She squatted down, grabbed the iron bars with both hands, and shook them hard. They didn't budge.
“...Ugh...”
Lonia let go of the bars and turned to walk in the opposite direction.
Relying on her memory, she turned into a narrower side corridor. On her way back from the old library yesterday, she had caught a glimpse of this fork but hadn't paid it any mind back then.
At the end of the side corridor was a half-man-high ventilation shaft, its iron grate rusted away until only a few precarious bars remained.
Lonia squatted down, pried open two of the iron bars with her hands, and crawled inside.
When Rafina was telling her stories, she had also mentioned the layout of Gloom Castle.
The story behind every motif, the clever details of every design, and all sorts of miscellaneous things.
She had listened very carefully. Now, she was crawling toward the old library along the route in her memory.
After crawling for about five minutes, a faint light appeared ahead.
She poked her head out of the duct.
Crooked bookshelves, scattered scrolls, and cobwebs in the corners.
Everything was exactly as she remembered.
Right in the center of the pool of light, Rafina sat in her usual spot.
She wasn't reading.
She was hugging her knees, her chin resting on them, her silver-white twin tails draping down on both sides, their tips resting on the dusty floor, motionless.
Her crimson eyes were open, staring lifelessly at the wall.
Lonia jumped down from the duct, the sound of her landing echoing loudly in the library.
“Ah?!”
Rafina's head snapped around.
Her tail sprang up from beside her ankles, the arrow tip freezing in the air for a second before beginning to swing violently from side to side.
“N... Nia?”
“Shh—keep it down.”
Lonia brushed the rust powder off her nightgown, stepped barefoot across the scraps of paper and dust, and squatted down in front of Rafina.
“How did you... wasn't the passage blocked...?”
“I crawled through the ventilation duct.”
Rafina stared at her, something shimmering in her crimson eyes. She reached out her hand, hesitated for a moment, and then pulled it back.
“...Did you scrape your skin?”
“No, I'm not that clumsy.”
Lonia took a deep breath.
“I'm sorry... I couldn't bring you with me...”
Rafina shook her head, her crystal horns swaying gently in the lamplight.
“...I know.”
“But!”
Lonia grabbed Rafina's hand.
“I'll definitely take you to live in a much better house one day! When that time comes, you can wear whatever clothes you want and read whatever books you want, and even my sister won't be able to say anything about it!”
Rafina looked at her.
The flame of the oil lamp flickered, casting shifting shadows across Lonia's face.
“...Are you leaving tomorrow?”
“Sister said at dawn... well, really early anyway.”
Rafina lowered her head, looking at their clasped hands.
“...Mhm.”
Lonia bit her lip, her retainer clinking against her gums.
“If... if you can't bear to part with me... we can... make a covenant.”
Rafina looked up.
“A covenant?”
Lonia opened her mouth and tapped her upper teeth with her index finger.
Behind her retainer, the tips of two not-yet-fully-developed fangs peeked out.
“Not that I'm making you my blood slave or anything!”
She quickly added, a faint blush rising on her face.
“People who have had their blood sucked by high-ranking vampires gain the ability to communicate mentally with their master. So if you just let me take a tiny sip, we can chat whenever we want!”
Rafina stared at the two tiny fangs in her mouth.
“...Have you ever sucked blood before?”
Lonia's face turned even redder.
“...No.”
“Then do you know how to control your force?”
“...I read about it in a book.”
“Which book?”
“...The one in my sister's study. I sneaked a look.”
“Was that book... decent?”
“Huh? How could it not be decent?”
Rafina chuckled softly. Her crimson pupils reflected the flame of the oil lamp and Lonia's flushed, somewhat bewildered face.
“Okay.”
Lonia was taken aback.
“Does that mean you agree?”
“Mhm.”
Rafina let go with one hand and pulled down the collar of the satin dress, which had slipped to one side, revealing a small section of her neck where thin, blue veins were visible.
“...Is here okay?”
Lonia swallowed hard.
She leaned closer. The skin on Rafina's neck emitted a very faint scent, like the smell of books.
“I... I'll try it first. It might hurt a little.”
“Mhm.”
Lonia opened her mouth. She pushed her retainer aside slightly with her tongue. It was a removable retainer anyway, designed to be taken off easily when eating.
Two milky-white little fangs were fully exposed, pressing against Rafina's neck.
Lonia could feel the pulse beneath her lips.
Her fangs rested against the skin. She hesitated for a moment, then gently pierced it.
She only broke the very surface of the skin.
A tiny drop of blood seeped from the pinprick-sized wound, smearing onto Lonia's lips.
The moment the taste flooded in, Lonia's pupils contracted sharply.
To vampires, every drop of blood had its own color and temperature.
She had tasted her sister's blood at family banquets; it was cold, thick, and heavy with the scent of iron and roses. Rafina's blood, on the other hand, was warm, light, like honey diluted with water.
It wasn't overly intoxicating, yet it made one instinctively want to crave more.
She took only a tiny sip before letting go.
A razor-thin thread of blood stretched between them, then snapped.
Two pinprick-sized red dots were left on Rafina's neck, barely visible.
Lonia licked her lips. Then she felt it—deep in her mind, in a corner that had once been blank, a hazy, warm sensation appeared.
Rafina felt it too.
Her crimson eyes widened. She covered the wound on her neck with one hand while pressing the other against her temple.
“...How strange. It's... warm inside my head.”
“That's me.”
Lonia wiped the remaining blood from the corner of her mouth with the back of her hand, a look of nervous pride in her eyes.
“Do you feel it? Whenever you want to talk to me, just think it in your head, and I'll hear you. No matter how far apart we are.”
Rafina closed her eyes.
A few seconds later, a voice drifted into Lonia's mind.
『...Can you hear me?』
“I can hear you!”
She threw her arms around Rafina.
The movement was so sudden that they both tumbled onto the dusty stone floor.
A layer of dust shook loose from the bookshelves, fluttering down onto their hair, faces, and dresses.
Lonia lay on top of Rafina, her arms wrapped tightly around her neck, her face buried in that silver-white hair.
“I will come back.”
Her voice was muffled, drifting out from between the strands of hair.
“No matter how long it takes, I will come back for you.”
Lying on the floor, Rafina slowly raised her hands and placed them on Lonia's back.
Very gently, as if afraid of breaking something.
“...Mhm.”
Her tail curled up from the floor, the arrow tip wrapping around Lonia's waist to rest softly, ever so softly, against her back.
The flame of the oil lamp flickered once.
They lay on the floor of the old library, surrounded by dust and old pages, holding each other close.
One with black hair, the other with silver-white. One stained with rust and blood, the other wearing an ill-fitting satin dress.
Deep in their minds, that warm presence pulsed steadily, like a tiny heart held in the hands of both.
Rate on N.U.
