At around four in the morning, after a busy night, Norton returned to Deckenhoff Castle. He retraced his steps, opening the door just as before, and left the fourteen newly created crypt guards at various locations. As he reached his bedroom door, he noticed the usually inconspicuous black cat sleeping outside it with closed eyes.
When Norton attempted to step around the cat to enter his room, it opened its eyes, gave him a silent meow, and mouthed a soundless call to him.
“I know, I came back a bit late this time. I’ll be more careful next time. Also, please keep this secret. I’ll share my tomato fish with you again,” Norton shrugged and spoke to the black cat.
The cat gave a very human-like exasperated expression, then meowed once, before standing up and using its tail to nudge open the door, allowing Norton through.
“Oh, right.” Just as he was about to enter, Norton remembered he needed the cat's help with something. “I actually messed up,” Norton crouched down and told the black cat. “The sixteen undead that went out with me didn’t all return. The skeletal wolves are no big deal, but those fourteen crypt guards are my own flawed creations. Can you help complete the magical markings they need?”
“...Meow meow meow meow meow! Meow meow meow meow meow!” the cat protested.
“Speak in human language!”
“What on earth did you go out and do? So dangerous!”
“Just some little kid’s adventurous outing.”
“If you’re a little kid, then I’m a cat!”
Though both were clearly agitated, they kept their voices low to avoid drawing any attention. The black cat, Lady Celia, persistently questioned Norton about his activities, but he stubbornly refused to divulge details, instead pleading for her assistance. Lady Celia initially declined, but after much negotiation, Norton managed to convince the cat to help by promising eight servings of tomato fish and two magic crystals weighing at least fifty grams.
Lady Celia, the female black cat, had been at Deckenhoff Castle for centuries, even during Norton's grandfather's time. Throughout these years, she had established herself not only as a castle guardian and spy but also as a pet cat, due to her gentle temperament. Even when Juana pulled her tail as a child, the cat did not lash out. It was hard to imagine that this seemingly docile creature could rival a dragon in power.
Norton was aware of her nature—lazy, averse to trouble, and fond of food. She knew many of Norton’s secrets from her perspective as a cat and a spy. They often engaged in small transactions; Norton would trade food and magic crystals for her silence, and she would turn a blind eye to some of his activities.
After the lengthy bargaining with the black cat, the time was nearing five o'clock, and daylight had begun to break in June. Norton finally felt the fatigue set in. As a child, he naturally needed more sleep, and staying up all night without rest, coupled with exerting his magic and physical limits, left him exhausted. Adrenaline from his earlier successful finds had kept him going, but once in bed, he realized how tired he truly was.
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He quickly fell into a deep sleep, so deep that he didn't even hear his sister Juana knocking on his door, much to her annoyance as she wanted to speak with him before leaving for school.
Juana, proud of her lineage, had little regard for most other vampires, including the other three families as renowned as the Carsteins.
“Lamia are just a bunch of backstabbing seductresses, the Abercrombies are a group of muscle-brained fools, and the Nyroquix are nothing but madmen…”
That about summed up her opinion of the other three esteemed vampire families—Abercrombie, the martial masters; Nyroquix, the foremost necromancers; and Lamia, famous for their beauty and intrigue. Fortunately, she only expressed these views privately to her brother. Even in front of her mother, she showed no hint of such disdain.
Perhaps she considered Norton too young to understand—but then again, not too young to help her with homework.
Ultimately, it was likely the trust born of their shared blood and perhaps something more that made Norton slightly uneasy around Juana.
Norton’s room was divided into three sections: his bedroom with a large wardrobe, a spacious middle area with a study, entertainment room, washroom, and parlor, and a smaller outer room for his maid, Maya. While Juana knocked outside, Norton was sound asleep in his inner quarters. Maya, busy tidying, answered the door.
Upon seeing Juana at the door, Maya instinctively stepped back. Juana’s reputation for a fiery temper and impatience with the castle's servants preceded her. As Norton's personal maid, Maya spent much time at his side. If she were unattractive, perhaps Juana wouldn't mind, but Maya was quite pretty, which only invited trouble. Juana frequently found reasons to bother her.
“So, my brother isn’t up yet?” Juana asked impatiently, eyeing Maya’s maid dress with mild disdain. Her thin eyebrows and slightly pursed lips lent her an air of harshness, though she was undoubtedly a beauty.
“Yes, that’s correct—shall I wake him—” Maya began, only to be interrupted.
“What do you mean by that? If my brother is still asleep, it means he needs more rest. That’s very important for him! As his maid, your job is to serve him, meet his every need, not to bother him!”
“Yes, yes, Miss Juana…” Maya answered, trembling slightly and bowing her head, perhaps too frightened to fully grasp Juana's words, but sufficiently cowed to appear like a frightened deer.
Despite Juana’s insistence on letting Norton rest, her raised voice inevitably woke him. Exhausted from staying up all night, the vampire boy was understandably irritated.
Though confronting his sister directly was daunting, his grogginess and fatigue gave him a courage boost. Perhaps his older sister, fond of pinching his cheeks, wasn’t so terrifying after all. Thus, rubbing his eyes, still in his pajamas, Norton opened the door, saying in a slightly annoyed tone, “You’re being too loud, Sister Isabeji.”
If anyone witnessing this scene were unaware, they might misunderstand: the brother who's overly fond of his maid confronting his overprotective sister, who was being overly critical of said maid.
In truth, Norton harbored no special feelings for his maid Maya, beyond what years of familiarity bred. A sudden replacement might cause minor discomfort akin to a child distressed over losing a favorite pillow or cup, but that was all.
Still, that slight concern meant a great deal to Maya. For her, Norton's small, barely-noticeable regard was the only thing sustaining her, a lifeline in her eight years of life—a notion that cheapened her worth but was nevertheless the highest price someone of her unremarkable background, with no family to support her, could hope for. Her parents had sold her to the vampires of Deckenhoff Castle for five gold lorals—a fifth of the cost of materials Juana used for a school experiment.
Juana, noticing Norton's slightly discontented gaze, felt a fleeting urge to pull his face and nestle him against her, as she often did. But the impulse quickly passed.
“There’s a servant here, so I must uphold my brother’s image,” she told herself, satisfied with her restraint. In her mind, it starkly contrasted with the little maid’s apparent disregard for Norton’s reputation, securing Juana's sense of superiority.
Though comparing herself with Maya was a baseless exercise—there was no comparison. Juana was a vampire noble, the eldest daughter of the Carstein family, while Maya was merely a pitiable maid.