“The Grand Duke is looking for you. Please come.”
Three days after meeting Martini, I received this message from the maid who had been throwing me cynical glances all day as I lazily lounged in bed.
By the way, when we last met, she told me to rest for three days, but now she’s calling me after exactly three days.
I thought the long-lived species had a looser sense of time, but that seems to have been my prejudice.
Look at that. The maid is just going on about her own business.
She said she received orders to fetch me, but the way she rushed without giving me time to prepare suggests that vampires are pretty strict about keeping schedules.
Perhaps they feel the need to make the most of their limited activity at night, even if they live long.
But still, the maid’s sullen attitude and the Grand Duke’s summons are completely different issues.
Imagining her going to Martini and reporting, “I called him, but he didn’t come,” made me jump out of bed before I could complain.
I rushed out into the hallway after her, only slowing down once I caught up.
Noticing my noisy approach, the maid shot me a quick glance.
“Tch.”
Wait, is this girl serious?
I chased after her, and she’s clicking her tongue? As if she’s acting all high-and-mighty while I’ve been trying to ignore her attitude.
But I can’t fall for such a cheap provocation. This maid has been like this from day one.
I can guess at her behavior.
Ever since I had my private meeting with Martini, she’s been showing her disdain more openly; it’s hard to miss that she’s merely trying to nitpick because she disapproves of me getting on well with Martini.
It seems like she’s irritated that Martini showed me a bit of favor. But that doesn’t matter; unfortunately, I’m not foolish enough to stick my head into a tiger’s mouth.
The whole point of provocations is to lead the other party into action first.
In other words, physical provocation can be ignored, and that’s already half the victory.
So I maintained my silence.
And then unexpectedly, she initiated conversation.
“Don’t get the wrong idea.”
If I remember correctly, this is the first time this maid has attempted any form of personal conversation.
Until now, she’s made no effort to hide her discontent but has only spoken the necessary words. So what’s up with her today?
I could guess the reason and thought about ignoring it again, but perhaps this could be an opportunity.
“What?”
I responded with feigned ignorance.
I’d really appreciate it if she could be more specific about what she means I’m misunderstanding.
Like, for instance, “The master is nice to you for this and that reason, so don’t get in the way.”
“…Your speech is a bit short.”
“Your master said I should be treated with disrespect, so wouldn’t it look odd if I treated a subordinate like you with respect?”
I felt a bit anxious for going all out, but I trusted Martini’s influence.
If you get upset, what will you do about it? If you have a problem, go take it up with your royal highness.
As expected, the maid frowned but didn’t argue back. Despite her irritation, it seemed she had no intention of denying her master’s words.
But perhaps wanting to irritate me, the maid decided to approach it differently instead of providing the response I desired.
“I don’t like you.”
“What a coincidence. I feel the same way.”
What if she tries to nitpick this?
Does that mean I’m also saying I don’t like my weak self? Great, let’s go with that.
But before I could even prepare an excuse for that line, the maid suddenly clamped her mouth shut.
I had thought maybe if I provoked her, she might spill some information about Martini’s plans, but it seems she has enough discernment not to let personal feelings get in the way of public matters.
Honestly, though I wasn’t overly hopeful, I couldn’t help but feel a bit disappointed.
After we both ignored each other and rushed our steps, we finally reached the entrance to Martini’s office.
The maid pretended nothing had happened and announced my presence, and soon after, I heard a voice granting permission from within.
“Have you rested well? I hope your body is feeling alright.”
“I’m fine now. Thanks to you.”
That wasn’t just empty words. It might seem bizarre that I recovered so quickly after just three days of rest, but once a vampire gets past a tough spot, recovering happens in an instant.
Sometimes I felt fleeting pains as if my mind was lagging behind my body, but there are no lingering wounds.
This doesn’t faze me at all.
“I’m glad to hear. I summoned you today to gradually show you the underground farm.”
“…Farm?”
Martini wasted no time revealing the purpose of her summons, but the unexpected topic caught me off guard.
Suddenly, a farm?
I’ve certainly never heard of a healthy rumor about vampires engaging in dairy farming in our duchy.
But Martini quickly cleared up my confusion.
“While we raise humans, of course.”
“Oh, that.”
When she bluntly stated that, I realized it made sense.
Extracting blood instead of milk isn’t such a stretch.
I had already heard rumors back when I was in Randell about vampires attacking villages near the border, but I never thought that would suffice for an ample food supply across the duchy. I hadn’t given it much thought at the time.
But it looks like they have their own ways of managing it.
Nodding lightly as a sign of understanding, I suddenly felt that Martini was quietly observing my reaction.
I still couldn’t grasp what she was thinking.
“Why do I have to go there?”
“It’s my genuine desire to serve you a meal that aligns with your tastes. While I can’t have you taste it directly, wouldn’t it be better for you to choose it yourself?”
“…If that’s the case.”
For me, quality blood is power itself. The maid had been bringing blood in a wine bottle during my recovery, but if I could have a choice, I wouldn’t refuse it.
I still found it challenging to understand why she was making such effort, but worrying about that wouldn’t solve anything.
Still, why a wine bottle? I don’t know if there’s a specific reason for a wine bottle, but I guess it’s a familiar image.
Noticing my agreement, Martini immediately stood up.
Just like the saying goes, you should seize the moment when the iron is hot; it seemed she was ready to move right away.
I had no clue how old she was, but seeing her manage her time so expertly at her age was surprising.
Of course, I kept my mouth shut, fearing the strange feeling that discussing age in front of a woman might bring trouble. Even the oddity of the Kuju and Suchikro records suggests this.
When I followed Martini along with the maid waiting outside, we soon arrived at stairs leading underground.
‘The farm is underground?’
Thinking it over, it makes perfect sense.
I’ve heard that vampires prefer underground facilities. What if something happens during the day if they build above ground?
Not placing a vital facility like a food storage in sunlight is only natural.
After descending the spiral staircase for a while, I came across a massive iron door.
As if to prove that something important lay beyond, two vampires stood guard on either side. There were even guards up the stairs—it felt very strict.
Martini quickly gestured for the kneeling soldiers to rise. I was acutely aware once again that she was indeed a Grand Duke.
Creeeak—
The heavy iron door creaked open. Simultaneously, a floral scent that didn’t belong in the damp underground enveloped the air.
Gulp.
Before I knew it, my mouth watered involuntarily. The rich scent of blood trapped in a poorly ventilated area was far more intoxicating than I had imagined.
I had to suppress the urge to bolt. If I created a ruckus in a foreign food store, it wouldn’t end well. No matter how hard it was to resist my bloodsucking urges, I still had a will to survive.
Martini tossed a quick glance back at me and nudged me to move ahead. Passing through a short corridor, we arrived in an unexpectedly large and open space that belied its underground setting.
“How do you find it?”
Martini casually asked for my thoughts as I looked down.
Despite being divided into several levels, the central cylindrical open space allowed for a clear view of everything below, resembling a round prison.
Down below, humans were moving under the watchful gaze of the vampires—were they being exercised?
Seeing it termed a farm, I had half expected to see them raised like livestock, but now it looked unmistakably like a prison.
It was then I started to understand why Martini had repeatedly scrutinized my reaction earlier.
She knew that I had lived with humans until I was captured.
There probably wasn’t any precedent for such a bizarre progenitor, and she must be wary of whether I might be tainted with impure thoughts.
“It’s okay.”
I wasn’t lying. Even after seeing the humans being kept, I surprisingly remained calm.
There might have been a faint trace of psychological resistance, but it felt like remnants of my past life’s values that I needed to shed, and excluding that, I didn’t feel much real aversion.
Maybe I just no longer see humans as my kin?
Or perhaps, it could be because they looked better treated than I expected.
At least they seemed to receive a much more humane treatment compared to the humiliation I suffered at the hands of humans.
To prove that I’m not on the humans’ side, I added one more sentence.
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