During the four days I had left in the castle, I decided to explore. I couldn't stay cooped up in a room forever, and my curiosity—mixed with boredom—was eating at me.
The halls were old but well-kept, echoing faintly with the footsteps of people who walked them centuries ago. Silver chandeliers hung from the ceilings, their light dim and melancholic, glinting off the black marble floors. Every few meters, statues stood tall—knights, kings, and women clad in strange, flowing robes. I wondered if they were saints or sinners.
The air here was heavy with history… and blood.
That scent followed me everywhere. Even through the faint perfume of incense, I could sense it—fresh, warm, calling to me like a whisper I wasn't supposed to hear.
I saw a few maids—apparently called handmaidens—moving gracefully through the corridors. They carried themselves with quiet purpose, dressed in deep grey robes trimmed with silver. They were different from the chattering castle maids I had seen in Dracula's Black Castle. Those ones gossiped and laughed; these women were focused, silent, almost solemn.
And their leader…
That's when I saw her.
Seishan.
The head of the handmaidens.
She walked past, her posture flawless, her face calm as still water. Her black hair was braided in intricate patterns, her skin grey like polished ivory. She turned her eyes toward me—and I froze.
Her gaze wasn't human.
It wasn't threatening either, but something in it reached deep into my blood, like an invisible thread tugging at the very core of what I was.
I felt… connected. Not to her exactly, but to her blood.
And judging by the brief flicker in her expression, she felt it too.
We stood there, staring at each other longer than two strangers should. Her heartbeat slowed; mine, for a moment, sped up. Then she turned and continued walking, her steps silent on the marble.
After that, the handmaidens were noticeably… nicer to me. They'd bow slightly, offer bread or fruit if I passed, even whisper small greetings. It was strange—but not unwelcome.
People in the castle whispered as I walked by.
Normally, I wouldn't care. I was used to stares; back home, people always looked at me like I was cursed. But here, their whispers were different—more curious than fearful.
It wasn't until later that I learned why.
You see, part of my flaw means I cannot see my reflection. Mirrors show me nothing as if I was never there. Because of that, I'd never really known what I looked like after becoming a sleeper. My family told me I looked amazing, but I always assumed they were just being kind.
Apparently… not.
According to several of the women in the castle, I had an "exotic" look—dark hair, pale skin, and crimson eyes that "put them in a trance."
Yeah, their words. Not mine.
If I said more, this would start turning into a different kind of fanfic, so let's move on.
The men, on the other hand, had other opinions.
Most said I looked smug. Brooding. Like some "dark-edgelord protagonist."
Well—except for one guy.
A young man wearing light lamellar armor, with luscious dark auburn hair and mesmerizing green eyes. His armor was made of burnished brown leather with deep blue embroidery beneath, clearly made to look expensive rather than practical.
He was tall, slender, and infuriatingly handsome. His skin flawless, his face perfectly shaped, his lips soft and full—basically the kind of guy you'd expect to be surrounded by fans. And judging by how every woman in the room kept glancing between the two of us like they were deciding which one to "simp" for… I guessed he was famous.
He approached me casually, flashing a charming grin.
"Hey, nice armor you've got there," he said, gesturing to my dark plate. "Really compliments your look. Black's your color. I hate wearing it myself, but you? You pull it off."
I blinked, unsure if he was mocking or complimenting me.
"Uh… thanks. Your armor looks good too."
"Thanks! It's very stylish, right?"
There was a pause. Then his grin faltered.
"Wait—you think my armor looks bad?"
I froze. Wait, what?
"…No?"
He raised an eyebrow. "You just lied."
Was this guy reading my mind?
"Ugh… no, it's great."
He looked at me with the same expression a teacher gives when a student clearly didn't study.
"You lied again."
I sighed. "Fine. It looks bad. I'd never wear something like that—but it suits you. Anything would, I guess."
Kai burst out laughing. "Finally! Honesty! Yeah, it's ugly as hell. I was thinking of buying a new armor memory tomorrow. Wanna tag along?"
I tilted my head. "How did you know I was lying? Aspect ability?"
He scratched the back of his neck. "Nah, that's my flaw. My aspect is flight."
He demonstrated by hovering a few inches above the ground, smirking as if gravity itself had given up on him.
I just stood there, unimpressed.
My flaw was a collection of curses stacked together like a bad joke, while his was basically a second superpower.
In what world is that fair?
Anyway, I excused myself. "It's late. I should rest."
Kai waved cheerfully. "See you tomorrow, creepy."
Damnit Effie I would talk to her later about telling people my name is creepy but at that moment I didn't bother correcting him.
That night, while the rest of the castle slept, I stayed awake.
Sleep wasn't something I needed much—once every few days was enough. Instead, I had plans.
Earlier that day, a monster had broken into the lower halls. The guards managed to kill it, but before they could dispose of the body, I'd slipped in and claimed the blood and two soul shards for myself. It wasn't stealing—it was recycling.
Those shards would pay for my and Effie's stay for the next week.
I sat on the edge of my bed, staring at the bucket of thick crimson liquid beside me. The scent was intoxicating. I dipped a finger into it, stirred the surface gently, and brought it to my lips.
Warm. Metallic. Alive.
As I drank, I thought of Seishan's eyes. The way her gaze lingered on me like she saw through everything.
Maybe she did.