The young man in his early twenties seemed as if he had condensed the morning mist itself. His pale blue eyes held the mystery of a deep lake, and his expensive navy suit only heightened his otherworldly beauty.
'My goodness, he might even surpass His Grace the Duke in looks…'
Leah held her breath as she faced this ethereal being. A voice mixed with awe and bewilderment slipped from her lips.
"Who are you?"
He lifted his chin slightly and smiled with elegant grace. The smile resembled a poisonous flower blooming in a sun-drenched garden.
"Ah, my apologies. I'm late with my introduction. I am Count Bastian Vlad."
"A Count?"
Why would a high-ranking nobleman be standing in front of the kitchen—the servants' domain? At Leah's bewilderment, Bastian adopted what appeared to be a slightly embarrassed expression. Of course, it was perfectly rehearsed.
"I was looking for the washroom and got lost. This manor is like a maze."
"Oh, the washroom? You need to go that way."
Leah quickly pointed in the opposite direction. Bastian responded to her kindness by scrutinizing her from head to toe with deliberate, predatory intent. Long, flowing red waves. Deep green eyes. A light dusting of freckles across her nose. His lips curved into a smile that sent chills down the spine.
'Finally. Sally Brennan's daughter.'
The witch's child who had slipped through his grasp last time. He flashed her a smile that married seduction with menace. Leah froze for a heartbeat at that smile, but in the next instant, her small frame was eclipsed by a towering shadow.
Bastian's smile vanished like smoke.
'Heavens. Eugene Alberesque.'
"Y-Your Grace!"
Leah's urgent voice from behind Eugene caught Bastian's attention, but Eugene had already turned around and stood solidly before him like a mountain, blocking his view.
At Eugene's blatant wariness, irritation flickered in Bastian's blue eyes, quickly followed by sharp interest.
"Did you say Count Vlad?"
Eugene's voice was as cold as midwinter frost. Bastian skillfully concealed his emotions and painted a smile back on his face.
"Yes. Forgive me, but may I ask who you are…"
Of course, Bastian knew Eugene. The vampire hunter of Moldavia. But for now, he pretended ignorance and extended his hand amicably, offering a handshake.
Eugene's inner turmoil churned violently.
'This man… what is this unpleasant aura?'
His senses had been honed over centuries hunting vampires. This inexplicable revulsion and wariness he felt toward the stranger was instinctive—like encountering a predator at the top of the food chain. Eugene reflexively checked the window.
Bright sunlight from outside poured equally on both him and the man. The Count remained composed. He was human.
But what was this warning signal? His hunter's instinct was sounding alarms frantically. That man is dangerous. Extremely dangerous. The inability to explain why only intensified his vigilance.
He didn't want to touch that hand. He had the horrible certainty that merely grasping it would taint his soul. But refusing a handshake in aristocratic society meant open insult.
"I am Duke Eugene Alberesque."
Eugene reluctantly grasped Bastian's hand, suppressing his cold sense of humiliation.
Bastian, nearly matching Eugene's six-foot-three-inch height, gripped his hand firmly. Then he grinned—a smile that suggested sinister secrets shared between conspirators.
"It's an honor to meet you, Your Grace."
His smile elevated Eugene's wariness to its peak. This Count treated him—someone who rarely graced social circles—with far too much familiarity. As if he knew everything about him.
'What is this man's identity? Who on earth is he that makes me feel this way?'
While Eugene couldn't tear his eyes from Bastian, light footsteps echoed down the corridor.
"There you are!"
At the Viscountess's voice, both men turned their heads simultaneously. The lady found it strange to see two powerful nobles standing as if confronting each other in front of the kitchen.
"Why are both of you here?"
"Ah, Lady Viscountess. I took a wrong turn, you see. His Grace was just about to kindly show me the way."
Bastian gave an artificial smile while mentioning Eugene's name, and Eugene felt sickening disgust at the lie.
"Oh my, is that so? Goodness."
The Viscountess laughed exaggeratedly.
"Both of you, shall we move to the drawing room? Leah, bring tea quickly."
At the Viscountess's words, both men reluctantly moved. Eugene walked while forcibly suppressing his urge to look back, positioning himself to block Bastian's view of Leah.
Leah watched the two men before quietly slipping into the kitchen. Today's encounter between them was an inevitable prelude to bloodshed.
"By the way, what's the occasion today? I noticed many gifts piled up outside…"
At Bastian's question, the Viscountess smiled awkwardly and waved her hand dismissively.
"Ah, today is my niece's birthday. The Alberesque brothers brought gifts to celebrate."
"Your niece? Do you mean the young lady who came out of the kitchen earlier?"
"Ah… yes, that's correct."
'Why are even these distinguished guests interested in Leah?'
The Viscountess wondered privately when even Count Bastian mentioned Leah. Just then, she caught sight of Leah entering the drawing room with refreshments, and her gaze turned coldly calculating.
Still in that shabby maid's uniform. Aside from a face slightly prettier than ordinary, the girl had nothing worth mentioning in aristocratic society. So why would a Duke and a renowned Count show interest in such a child? The situation defied comprehension.
Bastian smiled with satisfaction, having found the woman he'd been searching for right before his eyes. He cast his bait immediately toward Leah as she carefully placed teacups on the table.
"Ah, might you be the daughter of Sally Brennan?"
"You know my mother?"
Leah paused mid-motion, her eyes widening with delight as she looked up at Bastian. His eyes were pale blue like a Nordic winter lake—coldly settled yet clear and transparent, with subtle light seeping through their depths.
As their gazes met, Leah was suddenly seized by a strange breathlessness. It felt as though she were being pulled into the depths of his eyes and trapped there, every movement of her body freezing in place.
Seeing Leah frozen in place, Bastian smiled serenely—as if seeing through everything—then withdrew his gaze.
"Of course. I knew her well."
Released from Bastian's gaze, Leah's trapped consciousness finally snapped back to awareness. As the strange, unsettling feeling dissipated, she set down the remaining teacups with trembling hands.
"How do you know my mother…"
"You know my sister-in-law, Count?"
At her aunt's sharp question, Leah pressed her lips tightly together. The Viscountess approached Bastian with an expression of disbelief.
Bastian's gaze remained fixed on Leah with sticky, unwavering persistence. He toyed meaningfully with the dark ruby ring on his finger.
'The pure-blooded witch who died before I could reach her. But now her daughter stands before me.'
Bastian answered the Viscountess's question nonchalantly yet firmly, revealing his intention to focus solely on Leah.
"I'd like to discuss that matter privately with Miss Brennan later."
As Bastian artfully evaded the answer and lifted his teacup to his lips, the Viscountess's face visibly contorted with displeasure.
Both the title "Miss Brennan" and the fact that he knew her common-born sister-in-law were uncomfortable.
The Viscountess glanced nervously at Eugene. Why were Eugene and Bastian, these great houses of Romania, showing interest in Leah of all people?
'This is an opportunity. A golden chance to escape this wretched poverty!'
The Viscountess's mind was already filled with greedy calculations. She planned to connect Leah to these two powerful men and extract wealth from them.
Just then, Bastian approached Leah with a charming smile.
"Ah, Miss Brennan. I have something to give you—would you come to Vlad Castle?"
"What is it?"
Pure curiosity filled Leah's voice. And as that curiosity directed itself solely at Bastian, Eugene's handsome brow furrowed fiercely of its own accord.
'What's this? She keeps such cold distance from me, but why does she act so warmly toward a Count she just met?'
Uncontrollable displeasure and jealousy surged within Eugene. It was unbearably irritating to see Leah showing undisguised interest in another man.
"Well…"
Bastian pointed with his finger at the necklace around Leah's neck.
"It's identical to the necklace your mother used to wear."
"That's right! So you really do know my mother?"
At Leah's trusting gaze, Bastian sneered inwardly with contempt.
'Women are always so easily deceived. Especially those with witch's blood running through their veins.'
"I'll tell you about your mother in detail later."
At Bastian's sweet deception, Leah naively nodded her head eagerly.
Eugene felt suffocating displeasure and possessiveness wash over him at the sight. He didn't understand why these emotions gripped him so fiercely, but he knew one thing with certainty: he needed to separate this sinister Count from Leah. Immediately.
He couldn't bear even one second of her beautiful green eyes fixed on any man but himself.
Eugene approached Leah with decisive strides, suppressing the ominous emotions churning within him.
"Miss Brennan, how about opening your gifts?"
Eugene's voice carried subtle possessiveness wrapped in palpable tension. His intention was blatant: sever the conversation with Bastian.
"Yes, we should all celebrate the young lady's birthday!"
At Hector's words, Bastian slowly stood up.
"Well then, since I came unprepared with gifts, I should take my leave."
"No!"
All the men turned to look at Leah after her sudden outburst. Under the weight of their collective attention, Leah's face flushed slightly.
"Aunt, you're not going to send our guests away like this, are you? I'll quickly prepare dinner."
"Hm? Oh, yes, do that."
The Viscountess accepted Leah's proposal with bewildered surprise. Leah turned to Bastian, her voice earnest.
"Count, since you've come all this way, please stay for dinner tonight. Your Grace and Lord Marquess as well."
Leah didn't want to let slip away the Count who knew her mother.
At Leah's heartfelt invitation, all three men nodded in agreement. Leah hurried from the drawing room.
The three men settled back onto the sofas. In the silence, a chilling atmosphere enveloped the drawing room.
The Viscountess lifted her teacup with an awkward smile, though her mind was already racing with schemes to exploit Leah for wealth.
Suffocating tension flowed through the drawing room.
Eugene stared at Bastian with open hostility—watching him like a predatory beast. Bastian received that stare with leisurely amusement, as if it were all an entertaining game. Hector noticed the tense standoff between them and felt puzzled.
'Why is my brother so conscious of that Count? Could it be… jealousy over Leah?'
"Will Count Vlad be staying in Romania for long?"
The Viscountess asked to break the awkward silence.
"Actually, I was planning to leave for France tomorrow, but my plans have changed. Something important came up, so I'll be staying for a while."
Bastian's gaze drifted toward the door through which Leah had departed. His eyes now belonged entirely to a predator.
"Something important?"
At Eugene's cold, sharp voice, Bastian looked at him with a meaningful smile.
"I found what I was looking for, you see. Something quite precious."
Eugene's gaze sharpened like ice in an instant. Though he couldn't be certain whether that 'precious thing' meant Leah, a powerful sense of threat pierced his heart.
"How fortunate for you."
Eugene's voice was glacial, laced with warning.
The two men's gazes clashed violently in midair. Invisible sparks seemed to fly between them.
Hector lifted his teacup and suppressed his laughter.
'Brother, you really are jealous, aren't you? This is turning into quite an interesting development.'