I started avoiding anything that triggered memories of the orphanage.

I stopped watching the snow, ceased marking the windowsill, avoided daydreaming at night.


During daylight hours, I haunted the library. Though I couldn't decipher the ancient texts, they at least kept my mind occupied.

Days blurred together until one restless night when sleep eluded me completely.

Moonlight sliced through gaps in the curtains, painting silver stripes across the floor. After hours of tossing and turning, I rose, wrapped myself in a shawl, and ventured out.


The corridor stood silent as I descended the stairs, hoping a book might lull me to sleep.

At the second-floor landing, I noticed a door—the forbidden eastern room—with crimson light seeping through its cracks.


I froze mid-step.

This was the very room Dracula had expressly forbidden.

I should have turned away, but curiosity pulled me forward like an invisible thread.

This corridor held no paintings, only bare stone walls. Candlelight flickered, casting grotesque, dancing shadows.

I approached the door, my hand hovering over the iron knob.

Cold metal bit into my palm as I grasped it.

I hesitated briefly before pushing the door open.

A narrow staircase descended into darkness, lined with oil lamps instead of the castle's usual candelabras.

I crept downward, one cautious step at a time.

The stairs opened into a vast chamber.

A massive table dominated the center, cluttered with books, scrolls, and strange instruments. Along the walls, shelves held countless glass bottles filled with crimson liquid.

I approached the table and lifted an open tome.

Dense notes covered the pages—all about hemophilia—alongside detailed anatomical diagrams of vampire physiology.

According to the text, ordinary vampires could survive on animal blood, but vampires with hemophilia required human blood exclusively.

"What are you looking for?"

I whirled around, heart in my throat.

Dracula loomed at the top of the stairs, his face a mask of cold fury.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to—"

"I explicitly forbade you from entering this place." He descended one deliberate step at a time. "Was I unclear?"

"I just... couldn't sleep..."

"So you decided to trespass?"

His voice cut like ice. In the lamplight, his crimson eyes burned with dangerous intensity.

I retreated a step.

"I'm sorry."

Dracula's gaze bored into me. Just when I thought he might strike, he abruptly looked away.

"Get out."

I bit my lip and moved toward the stairs.

"Wait."

I froze.

He moved past me and picked up the book I'd been reading.

"What did you see?"

"I saw... you're researching your condition. Hemophilia."

He said nothing, merely closed the book and returned it to the table.

"And?"

"So..." I gathered my courage to meet his gaze. "Are you trying to find a cure?"

His expression hardened further.

"How is that any concern of yours?"

"If you found a cure, you wouldn't need to..."

"Wouldn't need what?" He cut me off. "Wouldn't need your blood?"

I hesitated before nodding.

He smiled suddenly—a cold, humorless expression.

"You believe I'm doing this research for your benefit?"

"That's not what I—"

"Then what?" He stepped closer, towering over me. "You pity me? Think I need your compassion?"

"No!"

"Or perhaps you think yourself special?" His voice dripped with scorn. "Believe I couldn't exist without you?"

My chest constricted painfully.

"I just... thought I might help."

"I don't need your help." He turned his back to me. "Leave. Now."

I stared at his rigid back.

"Why..." My voice barely audible. "Why must you be so cruel when you're clearly holding back?"

He remained facing away.

"You are merely my blood servant, nothing more. Don't harbor inappropriate expectations, and don't presume to enter my life."