Chapter 236

Chapter 236: Chapter 236

Although Dulce had brazenly poured himself a fifth drink, when the time came to drink it, he became hesitant.

"Will you take us along at the very least," Kath’tan lowered his pride to bargain, opening a new wine jar.

"Fine." Dulce surprisingly accepted. He kept to himself that he had no intentions of dealing with the High Coven until he had gotten rid of the demonic pests.

He lowered his gaze to the table in a bid to stabilize his vision. He was lightheaded, drinking another goblet of wine was a terrible, terrible idea. Especially because after dinner, the Incubus needed to eat.

Kath’tan was pleased to hear that, drinking far more wine than he would ever make the effort to. He filled his goblet with the new jar of wine and clinked it against Dulce’s before drinking it down.

Dulce looked from the soft-gold liquid to the Demon seated on the other side of the table. It was late in the afternoon now, the setting sun a similar shade to the pear wine.

He stuffed down his pride and slightly pushed his goblet of wine away from him. "I can’t drink any more." He reluctantly admitted, a slight tremble in his hand.

"You’ve barely had a jar of wine," Kath’tan pointed out, concerned. The Dulce he knew could easily put away endless jars of wine.

Dulce forced down the bubble of air that threatened to slip out of his throat, this was the most he had drunk in such a short time. No one dared to drink with him, and he would never show such a vulnerable side to anyone.

"And any more may very well knock me out," He admitted through gritted teeth, it was difficult to tell if the flush on his face was from mortification or the fruit wine. "If you care about it so much, you can carve out my heart again so I can better drink."

Kath’tan’s eyes cooled, more red than purple in the light of the setting sun. "Who cut out your heart?"

Dulce slowly closed his eyes and opened them again; he wanted to flip the table, he wanted to escape to the privacy and tranquility of his room, but he would rather not run right into a wall, so he remained seated.

"You have no idea of wine-appropriate conversations," He scolded in exasperation.

Kath’tan didn’t let it go, his gaze steady as he reached out to take Dulce’s untouched goblet of wine. He drank it and then put the jar of wine to the side before refocusing on the Vampire.

"We’re not drinking anymore. Who?" He repeated.

"I did." Dulce said bluntly, at his limit.

He rose to his feet, the room spun endlessly, which in turn meant that he swayed on his feet. "I’m retiring to my room. Call me when it’s time for dinner."

The silence that fell was almost tangible, but Dulce ignored it easily, as well as the heavy stares pinned on him. He instead focused on getting out of the room without tripping on his own feet.

What did it matter who carved out his heart? It wasn’t the worst thing that had happened to him. If anything, it was more of a nuisance than a grievance.

He stumbled into the flower-patterned wallpaper in the hallway only after the door to the leisure room closed behind him, leaning against it. He barely made it halfway to his room before he was plagued with hiccups, already swooning and drowsy, it was an extremely unwelcome addition.

It didn’t help that he was in a hurry to escape to his room, certain that a Demon or four would be hot on his tail.

Back in the leisure room, not a single Demon moved, not even Kath’tan who had been fishing for information.

It should have been expected, Dulce had only asked who stole his heart. It was expected that he knew who had cut it out, but he hadn’t made any reference to it when he questioned Moreau.

The room still spun even after Dulce had laid down, silent curses on his wine-soaked tongue. He made mental notes to never agree to another invite to drink, unease mixing with the pear wine in his veins.

Incapacitation of any kind was dangerous, and right then he could barely lift his head. His skin was flushed but it was still early spring so the warmth wasn’t uncomfortable.

Dulce was lying halfway off the bed, face down with his legs over the edge, his slippers barely hanging on. He couldn’t remember if he was always this susceptible to alcohol, because he rarely drank... not wine, or blood.

He had barely been lying on the bed for a few minutes when there was a knock on the door. His face scrunched up in displeasure, ignoring the knock and whoever it was seeking an audience.

"Lord Montesserat?" The familiar voice of a servant carried, "I was sent to inform you of dinner."

Dulce opened his eyes, he should have expected it, none of the Demons ever knocked. He had asked to be called for dinner, so he rose off the bed, still a little unsteady on his feet although it had been a few hours.

"Would you like me to escort you to the dining room, my lord?" The servant offered enthusiastically.

"I’ll have my meal in my room." Dulce said instead, his movements were languid, his gaze distant. "Have it brought to me."

"Right away, my lord." She agreed without question, taking her leave.

Dulce barely made it back to his bed before company came. "I don’t remember asking for Demons with my dinner." He muttered, lowering himself to sit at the edge of the bed.

Silence greeted his words, but no one made a move to leave either. It almost felt like there hadn’t been a break between the conversation they had been having in the leisure room and now.

"Say something," Dulce grumbled when the silence stretched out endlessly.

"Why did you cut out your heart?" Caedos asked right away like they had been waiting for permission to speak.

"Not that." He cut off, ignoring the question and the Demon.

Fortunately, the servant returned then, the entirety of dinner moved into his room.

Dulce tolerated it with patience he didn’t have, it might have been better to simply go through the effort of going to the dinner table.

His reason for cutting out his heart was nothing special, he had grown bored of existence. But that had nothing to do with his temporary companions.

The silence was deafening, he was used to silence, he preferred it even, but there was so much unsaid that it tainted the silence.

Dulce ate sparingly, but still ate the most because everyone else’s tray remained untouched. The inscrutable looks in their eyes almost felt like concern, it was disquieting.

He rose to his feet shortly after dinner began, his steps steady again. "Let’s go." He said to Ruoxi, starting for the door first.

He had no use for pity...

Kath’tan lowered his gaze to his untouched tray of food on the side table next to him. He had sat next to the hearth, warm light cast over his dark red skin.

The topic had brought back the unwanted memory from when he was first summoned, Dulce didn’t have his memories then, but it was almost like his body remembered what it was like to be killed over and over again.

He didn’t lift his head even when Ruoxi answered the Vampire’s summons. He had been filled with a lot of self-righteous indignation, and now it was all gone.

Asael left next, and shortly after, servants arrived to clean up the mostly uneaten trays of food.

It was the third night since Dulce’s heart was returned to him, and after the initial shock of it passed, all that remained was the unchanging reality. They were as much strangers to Dulce as he was to them.

The soft-spoken, endlessly caring Dulce never existed. But it wasn’t his nature that made them stay, after all... Kath’tan had always found his foolishness aggravating.

He didn’t linger after the dishes were cleared, leaving Caedos behind as he took his leave.

In the now empty room, Caedos got comfortable on Dulce’s bed. The heaviness still lingered in the air, nothing like the night before.

Dulce didn’t really change much, despite the Vampire’s affected indifference and sharp tongue, he still didn’t let him sleep on the ground, or even at the foot of the bed.

The one year of companionship showed more than anything how little the Vampire changed even after regaining his heart and emotions. But his consistency was equally worrying, because if nothing changed between them after a year, Dulce would leave,

And if they tried to renege on their agreement or go after him, he would treat them with the same coldness he did his own kind.

Dulce Montesserat hadn’t lived this long simply from his inability to die, in a fight against him, they would all be annihilated.

Caedos wasn’t haughty to think that he could worm his way into his mate’s heart in the span of a year, so there was only one thing left to do... Grow strong enough to be able to take a beating.