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THE “Shop Closed” sign still stood by the door. The Witch of the East’s Apothecary had been closed temporarily. And even though it was midday, the curtains all around the shop had been pulled shut. Even if they wanted to, no outsider could see inside.
“All right, my little witch, time for your reward.”
“Lord Ernest, wasn’t I just playing the part of the witch in your little farce? If so, I don’t need compensation for that.”
Yuuri was angry. If the whole point was to get Leonard to where he could say his honest feelings, wouldn’t the witch be unnecessary?
The cast really only ever needed to be Leonard, Riche, and maybe the meddlesome count, but that was all.
And staging a play without the cast knowing they were playing a part was sheer deceit. Yuuri’s pride in herself as a witch had been deeply wounded. She was, in some ways, the one who had hatched the plan to give Leonard the placebo, but that wasn’t completely the case. Ernest had likely come to Yuuri expecting her to do exactly as she had and in fact gave her several hints to push her in the right direction. That was what irritated her most.
“I may not have needed your skills as a witch, but I did take up your time, and for that I must pay you. Take all you want, if it means you’ll forgive me,” Ernest said, making himself comfortable on the only couch in the room. He wrapped his arms around her waist, bringing her to him. She gave no sign of resistance.
“Then please unbutton your collar.”
“You go ahead. Or can a vampire not manage to undo buttons?”
He really was a cruel man.
Yuuri lifted his tie and swiftly undid it. She then attempted to unbutton his blouse but found it was much harder trying to undo someone else’s buttons than it was her own.
“C’mon, you can do it! Or do you not want my blood?”
She ignored his provocations and, after a great deal of struggle, finally undid the four top buttons. She opened his collar, exposing his neck.
It was much larger than a woman’s. His neck and built chest were bare. When she lifted her eyes, she realized Ernest was smiling down on her.
“…You’re not afraid?”
Yuuri was afraid. Afraid that someday, Ernest would hate her for all of this.
“Go on. This is your reward, so drink up, my sweet little vampire.”
“…All right. Thank you.”
As the descendent of a vampire who had intermarried with humans, Yuuri was different from pureblood vampires. Yuuri’s ancestors had much sharper fangs, where hers were merely considered sharp teeth by human standards. They weren’t that sharp, but they could still draw blood. Ernest was a proud nobleman, but he still felt pain.
Thus, Yuuri couldn’t really understand how he could accept this with a smile on his face, and the fact that she couldn’t understand made it all the more terrifying.
And yet, she so desperately wanted the reward he was offering that, even as it made her hate herself, she couldn’t stop.
Her half-parted lips hovered at the nape of his neck for a moment, hesitating before finally biting down. Ernest’s body stiffened in response. Surely he was in pain. But the scent of her reward was already clouding her senses, leaving her powerless to fight against it.
It was like biting into fruit. She maneuvered her tongue to keep any blood from dribbling away.
The taste of his blood on her tongue was sweeter than any fruit she’d ever bitten into. That taste was finer than the finest tea and to Yuuri, was better than any food or drink money could buy.
His breathing became ragged. Her breath was hot against his skin, her tongue lashing against the mark her fangs made. She was embarrassed, wondering what he must have thought of her. The spell that his blood had over her suddenly lifted and she looked up at him.
“You don’t want to waste it, do you? Go ahead and keep going until it stops bleeding.” Ernest’s large hand began to caress Yuuri’s head. Slowly, he guided her face back to where it had been before.
If he said it was all right, then it must be. Yuuri reassured herself and tried to let it go so she could enjoy her reward.
So they sat like that, with him pulling her into his lap and her wrapping her arms around him. His hand hadn’t stopped caressing her head and so she assumed it was all right.
When the flow of blood finally did stop, Yuuri buried her face in Ernest’s rumpled shirt. The euphoria she felt couldn’t be explained away as simply feeling full or satisfied. All she wanted was to bask in that feeling just a little longer.
“Are you so full, you’re tired?”
“…”
If she told him no, she’d have to pull away. She wanted to stay like this. So she pretended to be sleeping.
“I see. Are you really going to be all right not drinking blood for another two months? Maybe you should find someone else?”
She didn’t need anyone else’s blood. She doubted she could even stomach anyone else’s. Why would he say such a thing? In another two months, he might forget about her. And she doubted she had the courage to ask him for blood without a job well done to justify it.
Yuuri was terrified.
“That’s not for you to trouble yourself with. I’ll worry about it.”
I can’t wait two months. I don’t want anyone’s blood but yours. Words that felt so unlike her were racing through her mind. Maybe she was suffering from the same curse as that man who couldn’t be honest.
“You’re a terrible witch. Maybe I should request a real truth serum. If you make it for me, I’ll give you a reward. How about it?”
“No.”
“You’re turning me down because you know who I want to have drink it, don’t you? You must know I just want you to be open and honest with me, right, my little Misfortune Devouring Witch?”
Misfortune Devouring Witch. That’s what they called her grandmother. The original meaning was “let her eat your misfortunes, so only good fortune will remain”, but the reason the name had been given was lost to time, leaving only the name itself. That’s why she hated that name. She should hate that name. But Ernest had used it properly.
“If you keep eating all the misfortune in this town, I’m going to run out of cases for you to solve. So I need to find a way to get you to reveal your true colors before then…”
And so, within a month, he was back with a new task for her. He was, after all, an oddball count who sought all the world’s troubles and strife and brought them right to her door, just so he could pay her reward.