As he stood in front of a door, he read the nameplate before his eyes.
[Lilliana Roseblood]
He was currently standing in front of her dorm room.
Then he took a deep breath and…
Knock knock
"It's Soren."
– Come in, it's unlocked.
He put his hand on the handle and twisted it slightly.
Creak!
The first thing he saw was a large plant pot filled with roses right by the front door.
As the door opened wider, he quickly realised that it wasn't a one-off item either.
'They're everywhere.'
Given her personality and appearance, Soren had somewhat guessed that Lilliana enjoyed plants, but he never expected it to be at this level.
Everywhere he looked, there were either potted plants, vases or some other form of decoration, her whole dorm blooming as if it were a sanctuary.
Then she walked out.
Upon seeing her, Soren instinctively held his breath.
"Wow…"
Lilliana's usual outfit very much fit her strict mask she usually wore, but right now she was standing right in front of him in somewhat loose-fitting pyjamas that were a few sizes too large.
Seeing that sight, there was only one possible word to describe it.
"Adorable."
"Ah… uhm… Thank you." She fidgeted, ears twitching faintly.
"So, anyways, what did you want to see me about?" he asked quickly, trying to push away the strange thoughts creeping in.
"First, come in and sit down, I'll get some tea."
He followed her directions and took a seat on the small sofa, waiting patiently for Lilliana to return.
Soon she walked in with two mugs and sat down directly next to Soren, not quite as close as Amelia, handing him one of the mugs.
"Thank you, Miss Rose."
He smiled and took a sip.
'It's sweet.'
Soren had noticed that she had recently been adding more sweet foods to his lunch whenever they ate together.
He looked at her questioningly, wondering when she had picked up on his sweet tooth.
She watched reactions, amused.
"It was obvious. Whenever I gave you anything sweet, your face would light up. You especially like anything with cherries in it, but you wrinkle your nose at strong smells. These are things you have to pick up on when you cook for others."
Soren rubbed his neck awkwardly; he hadn't expected to be caught so easily.
"Do you like sweet things, Miss Rose?"
Instead of responding, she handed him her mug with a grin.
He brought it to his mouth and sipped carefully before his face contorted in disgust.
"Ugh… Ew, What is that?"
"Ahahaha! Sorry, sorry, it's black coffee. I used to prefer sweets, but ever since enrolling at Stellaris, my tastes have shifted towards bitter things."
It was the first time he had ever seen Lilliana laugh; the sight warmed his heart so he couldn't help but smile.
"I'll keep that in mind then."
"Oh, does that mean I'll get to try Soren's cooking one day?"
"I can try if you'd like, but don't get your hopes up."
Soren was somewhat confident in his ability to cook as he had looked after himself and his roommate for such a long time in his previous world, though he wasn't sure if he could match Lilliana's abilities.
Clink
They chatted idly until eventually, Lilliana set her mug down with a careful, deliberate clink.
The sound was small, but the air shifted immediately.
"Soren," she said, her voice even, almost clinical. "Are you certain you want to learn blood magic?"
He nodded.
"And you understand the risks involved?"
Another nod.
She watched him for a second longer than necessary, eyes searching his face as if weighing something unseen.
Her fingers had curled around the edge of the table without her noticing.
"Then…" She exhaled quietly. "Can you promise to listen to me. No matter what I say."
"I promise," he replied at once.
The speed of his answer startled her.
For just a moment, the tightness in her shoulders loosened.
"Then I'll teach you, on the condition that you only practice blood magic in front of me," she said.
"That's fine."
It was exactly what Soren had expected.
Lilliana worried easily, and blood magic wasn't something he could abuse anyway, not without serious consequences.
For a moment, he thought that was where it would end.
But Lilliana didn't relax.
Her gaze drifted away, fixing on nothing in particular.
Her fingers tightened, nails pressing faintly into her skin.
"There's…" She paused, swallowing. "…something I need to tell you first."
Soren blinked.
This was unexpected.
He had assumed they would move on, maybe talk more, maybe start a lesson.
Instead, the atmosphere grew heavy, like the room had subtly shrunk.
"What's that?" he asked gently.
"You already figured out what I am, didn't you?" she asked quietly.
'Ah.'
He froze.
He hadn't meant to be careless, but she was right; he had treated it like something obvious, something known.
"I'm sorry," he said, lowering his gaze. "I didn't think—"
She shook her head at once.
"No. I'm not angry." Her tone was quick, almost reflexive, as if she were used to smoothing things over. "I just… want you to listen."
"I am," he said.
She nodded, though she didn't look convinced.
"As you've guessed, I'm a dhampir," she continued. "My mother is the Duchess of Bloodrose. A vampire. My father was a bear-beastkin."
He nodded.
This much he knew.
But Lilliana didn't stop there.
"From the time I could walk, my brother and I were taught what we were, what that meant, and how careful we had to be."
Her voice was steady. Too steady.
"Across Ivansia, vampires aren't exactly welcomed," she went on. "You know they need blood, right?"
She didn't wait for an answer, knowing the question was obvious.
"But blood isn't just food to them," she said, her fingers tightening again. "It's… everything. It's what keeps their bodies intact. What allows regeneration. What restores mana. Without blood…" Her breath hitched, barely noticeable. "…a vampire doesn't really live."
She fell silent.
Soren waited.
"When I was younger, my mother trained us personally," she said at last, eyes unfocused.
The word trained sounded wrong.
"She believed suffering built resilience," Lilliana said. "That starvation taught control."
Her shoulders drew inward, as though bracing.
"She would withhold blood," she continued. "On purpose. Days at a time. Longer, sometimes."
Her voice thinned.
"She called it tolerance training."
Soren's chest tightened.
"We still had lessons. Magic practice. Combat drills."
A faint tremor crept in.
"We weren't allowed to stop just because we were… hungry."
Her hand shook once, sharply, before she forced it still against her lap.
"The thirst…"
She hesitated, searching for words.
"It wasn't like being hungry. It was louder than thought. It crawled under your skin. You could feel your mana tearing itself apart, trying to regenerate with nothing to draw from."
Her breathing grew shallow.
"I remember counting my heartbeats," she said quietly. "Because if I focused on anything else, I thought I'd lose myself."
Soren realised she wasn't really looking at him anymore.
"The only reason I survived as long as I did was my father," she said, "but… my brother didn't make it…"
Her voice broke.
Her shoulders began to tremble, not violently, but with a restrained, practised shiver, like someone fighting to stay composed.
Soren clenched his fists.
If she was telling the truth, then she and her brother had been pushed to the edge of becoming ghouls, again and again.
And in the end, her brother had fallen.
He had become a ghoul.
A mindless vampire.
An empty shell driven only by hunger.
He looked at her properly then.
At her small frame.
Her thin wrists.
The way she held herself like she was conserving energy even now.
Those weren't quirks.
They were scars.
"Are you okay?" he asked quietly, hating how small the question sounded.
Lilliana blinked, as if pulled back into the room.
"…Now I am," she said after a pause.
The answer came too fast.
"Since coming here," she continued, forcing a faint smile, "everything changed. I learned magic I actually enjoy. I have work I like."
She hesitated.
"I… don't really have friends, but…"
Her gaze softened when it returned to him.
"I have a student I treasure."
The words landed heavily in Soren's chest.
"I'm happy," she said, as if reciting something she had rehearsed. "I'm free from that house. I can eat when I want. I don't have to endure anymore."
Her smile wavered.
"And even if I couldn't make friends…" she whispered, "…having you is enough."
Something twisted painfully inside him.
Before she could say anything else, he reached forward and pulled her into his arms.
"H-Huh?" she gasped. "Soren—? W-What—"
Her body was light.
Too light.
It felt like holding something fragile, something that might crack if he squeezed too hard.
He rested his hand against her back and patted gently, just as she once had for him.
"If you ever need someone to talk to, I want you to know that I'm here," he murmured.
Her breath hitched.
"You've helped me so much," he continued. "I want to return that. Even if I'm just your student… I'll always listen."
Her hands fisted into his shirt, gripping tightly, desperately.
"So please," he said softly. "Rely on me."
"I-Is that… okay?" she whispered.
"Of course."
She nodded, forehead pressed against his chest.
"I promise," she said faintly.
And then the dam finally broke.
"I tried so hard," she sobbed suddenly. "I wanted to be strong—I thought if I endured, if I smiled, if I did everything right—"
Her voice shattered.
"But it hurt so much," she cried. "It never stopped hurting!"
Soren tightened his hold, saying nothing.
"I thought if I ignored it, it would go away," she wailed. "I thought I deserved it—!"
Her body shook violently now, years of restraint collapsing all at once.
He simply held her, steady and unmoving, letting her cry until her tears soaked through his shirt, until her fragile frame trembled against him like a porcelain vase on the verge of shattering.
In that moment, he understood.
Lilliana wasn't just cute.
She wasn't just strong.
She wasn't just mysterious.
She was fragile.
And despite everything that should have broken her…
She was still here.
————「❤︎」————