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Chapter 13: "My Blood Servant Does Not Need Lecture from Others"
The moment Pilea ran off, someone appeared from the shadows.
It was Kinsley — his aura calm and tender, as always.
"Well, well, well… she ran away," he murmured with a teasing smile.
Androsen didn't even turn to face him. But the mere presence of his dark aura was enough to make Kinsley's blood run hot. The night air was beautiful — yet heavy. Kinsley took a few steps closer, eyes glinting.
"You're really indulging in her, aren't you?"
He said it like he was looking for the perfect way to make Androsen angry. And indeed, the darkness in Androsen's aura deepened with every second.
"I remember," Kensley said calmly, "that you attended the last ball alone."
His tone was flat — calm but sharp like a blade.
"Only when she enters the tiger's den," Androsen said his tone hinting at something Kensley couldn't comprehend, "will she truly understand that the only person who can protect her in this world is me."
His voice carried a quiet dominance, laced with possessiveness that sent a chill through the air.
Kinsley chuckled lightly. "Wow… this terrible possessiveness of yours," he said mockingly. "It seems you've been completely provoked by that disciplinary committee member — Lucin."
Androsen began walking away, his silence heavier than words.
"Huh? Where are you going?" Kinsley called after him.
"I'm going to look after that girl who has no manners."
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Pilea ran down the stairs, out of the mansion, her breath ragged. She stumbled into the vast garden, where the moonlight shimmered on the grand fountain surrounded by glowing flowers.
Her heart was still racing.
"A vampire ball… and he wants to bring me with him?" she whispered, her skin pale.
She sighed, holding her head. "I can't figure out what he's really trying to do."
"What are you doing here?"
The voice came from behind — cold yet strangely calm. It wasn't Androsen's.
Pilea turned quickly. Standing there was a man she had never met before. His gaze was fixed on her, steady and piercing, like she was prey. But unlike Androsen's blood-soaked intensity, this man's aura was different — sharp, distant, and almost cruelly quiet.
His glasses reflected the moonlight, making his green eyes look even colder. His lips were pressed into a straight, unreadable line.
"Who allowed you here?" he asked. His voice was chilling, though still slightly warmer than Androsen's usual tone.
"Chairman Lodour," Pilea murmured, bowing her head slightly.
"Ah, indeed…" he said, stepping closer.
Startled, Pilea stepped back. Lodour smirked faintly, lifting a strand of her hair with deliberate ease. His expression remained blank, but his eyes had grown colder — like winter itself.
"You really resemble that wretched servant," he said quietly, almost to himself. "Especially this long hair…"
Before Pilea could even react, he suddenly shoved her into the fountain.
The world tilted. Water splashed. Her body hit the surface hard, cold seeping through her skin.
Gasping, Pilea lifted her head — her green eyes filled with pain and disbelief.
Lodour looked down at her with disdain. "Speaking of that blood servant," he said calmly, "she was Androsen's favorite when he was a child. Androsen only shows interest in you because you remind him of her."
Pilea froze. For some reason, those words stung deeper than she expected. A sharp pain bloomed in her chest — brief, but real.
"But in the end," Lodour continued, "that servant betrayed him and ran away. So stop holding expectations." His tone was almost soft, but the warning underneath was sharper than glass.
Pilea sat motionless in the fountain, her drenched hair clinging to her shoulders. The water was cold — but she didn't feel it. Her blood burned hotter than ever.
Her voice came out steady, cold, and proud.
"Expectations? Stop joking around. How could I ever hold expectations toward any vampire?"
Lodour didn't reply. He simply looked away, unimpressed.
But before he could say another word—
"Brother."
The voice came from the shadows, low and dangerous.
Androsen's.
Even that single word carried enough weight to make the night freeze. He walked forward, his gaze fixed on Lodour.
"Don't make irresponsible remarks behind my back," Androsen said icily. "Not in front of my blood servant."
Pilea blinked, startled. Brother? she thought. Her eyes darted between the two men — they didn't even look alike.
Androsen's voice grew darker, colder. "Also, my blood servant does not need lectures from others."
The sentence was simple, but the threat inside it was unmistakable.
He stepped closer to the fountain, extending his hand.
"Get up. That's an order."
Though his face revealed nothing, his eyes burned with something different — a dangerous calm, mixed with something almost protective. Pilea had never seen this side of him before.
She hesitated, then took his hand. His grip was firm as he lifted her from the cold water.
"Let's go," he said quietly, removing his jacket and placing it over her shoulders. His touch was surprisingly gentle.
They walked away, side by side, while Lodour stood silently, watching them disappear into the darkness.
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Why is my heart in such a mess? Pilea thought.
She held the jacket tightly. It was large on her — Androsen was much taller — but its warmth made her feel strangely safe.
Why is Androsen so gentle to me…? Her thoughts tangled with confusion.
"Don't run around without permission," Androsen said suddenly, his tone calmer now than before. "And… be careful of my brother."
"Yes," she replied faintly.
They stopped in front of her room.
"Practice here after school for the next two days," he said, resting his hand briefly on her shoulder. "You'll need to — in order not to embarrass yourself at the ball."
Pilea nodded quietly, her eyes fixed on the floor.
"Take a shower and rest early," he added. "You don't have the right to catch a cold now."
"Understood," she whispered.
The maids quickly opened the door. Androsen released her shoulder, sliding his hand into his pocket as he watched her step inside.
The door closed softly behind her.
And for the first time that night, the mansion fell silent.
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