Chapter 243: The King and the Immortal Witch

Anette entered the royal hall without announcing herself.

The door was thrown open with enough force to slam against the wall, and several servants nearby immediately stepped away.

Vlad sat on his throne, resting his face against one hand, apparently far more interested in the documents spread beside him than in the daughter who had just stormed into the room with an expression capable of killing someone.

"Why didn’t you do anything?" Anette asked.

Vlad raised his eyes only enough to look at her.

"About?"

Anette remained completely still for several seconds, as though needing to confirm that he had actually asked that question.

"About the Palace exploding."

"Ah."

"Ah?" she repeated.

Vlad returned his attention to the documents.

"Yes. That."

Anette felt a vein pulse in her forehead.

"That?"

"It was a stupid situation," Vlad said, showing no desire whatsoever to turn it into a major discussion. "There was no reason for me to interfere directly. The number of vampires there capable of defending themselves was absurd, and in the end even that boy managed to protect the others."

He turned a page.

"So why are you so angry? There were no relevant deaths on our side."

Anette stared at him.

Her own pride felt trampled in that instant, and not only because of the careless way Vlad treated the entire situation.

For several seconds, she seriously wondered how she had ever had the courage to call that idiot Father without feeling ashamed.

"Are you fucking kidding me?" she asked, walking several steps forward. "They invaded our Capital. Entered royal property. Stole something right under our noses, tried to kill hundreds of people, and hired a witch capable of setting up mass-destruction magic."

Vlad did not answer.

Anette spread her arms.

"And you’re telling me that... it doesn’t matter?"

"I didn’t say that."

"That is exactly what you said."

"I said there was no reason for me to interfere at that moment."

"YOU ARE THE KING."

"I know."

"THEN ACT LIKE ONE!"

Vlad finally put down the document.

He watched Anette for several seconds, then released a tired sigh.

"I have everything under control."

Anette laughed without humor.

"Of course."

"You can keep focusing on trying to kill me or whatever other nonsense goes through your head."

Vlad rested his face against his hand again.

"I’ll take care of my Kingdom, thank you."

Anette went still.

"You’re dismissing me?"

"Yes."

"After this conversation?"

"Especially after this conversation."

She slowly breathed through her nose.

Vlad already knew what came next.

"Good night, Anette."

The Princess turned around.

Every step toward the door caused small cracks to appear in the marble beneath her feet.

She opened the door.

Stopped.

Looked over her shoulder.

"When all of this blows up in your face, I’m going to laugh."

"You’ve said that before."

"One of these times, it’ll work."

"I’m rooting for you."

Anette slammed the door.

The impact echoed through the corridor.

Four paintings hanging on the walls of the hall shook violently before falling to the floor and breaking apart.

Vlad continued staring at the closed door.

Several seconds passed.

Then he let his head fall against the back of the throne.

"What an exhausting woman."

He closed his eyes.

The careless expression remained for only a few more seconds.

"As if I was actually there..."

Vlad opened his eyes again.

"It was a blood clone."

His voice grew quieter.

The man who had remained invisible on the second floor throughout the ball had not been Vlad in his entirety.

It had been an extremely refined clone, powerful enough to possess part of his senses, personality, and blood authority, but still only a distant extension of his true body.

A clone did not possess the same perception.

It did not possess all of his strength.

And above all, it had failed to notice what was hidden beneath that property until the moment of activation.

"How the hell was I supposed to stop anything if I wasn’t actually there to sense that something was wrong?"

Vlad released another sigh.

His gaze rose toward the ceiling.

Above the throne was a large plate of polished black metal, so smooth it functioned almost like a mirror.

Vlad watched his own reflection in it for some time.

Then he thought about the magic circle.

The barrier.

The way everything had been hidden.

"A witch..."

This time, there was no laziness in his voice.

There was interest.

And concern.

Vlad’s body began to come apart.

First the fingers.

Then the arms.

Dark blood escaped from his pores and transformed into dozens of small bats, filling the hall before disappearing through the shadows along the walls.

Within seconds, the throne was empty.

...

[Some time later]

Far from the Capital, there was a small clearing hidden among ancient trees.

No road led directly to it.

The house built at the center of that place looked far too small to belong to anyone important.

Dark wood, a sloped roof, several herbs hanging near the windows, and a small chimney releasing thin smoke into the sky.

Flowers grew irregularly around the porch, and to any normal person, the building would have looked like the quiet residence of some woman who had decided to abandon civilization entirely.

Then dozens of bats appeared among the trees.

They gathered in front of the house.

Blood began forming a body.

Vlad appeared.

With a bouquet of roses in one hand.

He looked at the flowers.

Then at the door.

"This still works, right?"

No one answered.

Vlad climbed the three porch steps and knocked twice.

He waited.

Several seconds later, the door opened.

A woman appeared on the other side.

She was smiling.

The smile lasted exactly until she recognized who stood before her.

Then her face turned cold.

Very cold.

Vlad raised the flowers.

"Good afternoon."

She looked at the bouquet.

Then at him.

She took the roses.

Vlad smiled.

"I knew you still—"

The flowers caught fire.

There was no visible spell.

The woman simply held the bouquet while the petals turned to ash in her hand.

Vlad watched in silence.

She shook her fingers, letting the ashes fall to the ground.

"Come in."

"You were always romantic."

"Come in before I change my mind."

Vlad entered.

The inside of the house was much larger than it should have been, clearly the result of some kind of spatial manipulation.

Bookshelves covered entire walls, hundreds of books were stacked across tables and shelves, and bottles of strange ingredients shared space with cups, kettles, and magical objects apparently abandoned in the middle of old experiments.

The woman closed the door behind him.

"It’s been nine years."

Vlad looked at her.

"Nine?"

"Yes."

"You counted?"

She gave him an empty look.

"Unfortunately."

Vlad began walking through the room as though he knew the place perfectly.

"I’ve been busy."

"For nine years?"

"I have a Kingdom."

"And I have a life."

He looked at her over his shoulder.

"You achieved immortality. Nine years are nothing to beings like us."

The woman stopped.

Her gaze became even colder.

"It’s cute when you talk like that."

Vlad raised an eyebrow.

"Despite being immortal, I’m still human."

She walked past him and headed toward an armchair near the fireplace.

"My body stopped aging. My mind didn’t."

Vlad fell silent.

"Time still passes for me the way it does for any human," she continued. "A week is a week. A year is a year. Nine years are nine years."

She sat down.

"For you, a week probably passes like a day."

Vlad let out a small laugh.

"I already offered to turn you into a vampire."

She completely ignored the comment.

"So..."

The woman crossed her legs and rested one arm against the chair.

Her face remained young despite the impossible age behind those eyes.

"Let’s get to the real reason."

Vlad remained standing.

She gave an extremely small smile.

"What did the Great Vampire King come to ask of me, Raven LeFay?"

Vlad stopped.

The word struck him offensively.

"Ask?"

Raven raised an eyebrow.

"Yes."

"I would never ask for anything."

She stared at him.

Vlad maintained a serious expression.

Raven tilted her head slightly.

"Keep lying. I enjoy it."

Vlad narrowed his eyes.

Raven pointed toward the chair in front of her.

"Just say it already, you idiot."

Vlad remained standing for several more seconds, as though sitting down after that sentence would mean admitting defeat.

Then he pulled out the chair.

Sat.

Raven smiled.

"Good. We’re making progress."

"I still haven’t asked for anything."

"Of course not."

She extended one hand.

A kettle lifted itself from a distant table and flew toward them, pouring two cups.

Raven took hers.

"Then explain why you showed up at my house after nine years carrying roses."

Vlad looked at the cup.

"A spell was activated inside the Capital today."

Raven stopped before drinking.

The change was small.

But Vlad noticed.

"What kind?"

"A mass-destruction matrix."

"Scale?"

"An entire estate."

Raven took a small sip.

"That isn’t particularly extraordinary."

"It had an integrated barrier designed to weaken vampires."

She became more interested.

"Better."

"It was hidden from Serafall."

Raven continued drinking.

"Possible."

"Chysis."

The cup lowered a few centimeters.

"Interesting."

"Rakshasa."

Raven finally looked directly at him.

Vlad finished:

"And from a clone of mine."

She fell silent.

The fire continued burning in the fireplace.

After several seconds, Raven placed the cup on the small table.

"Now you have my attention."

Vlad rested his arms on his knees.

"I thought I might."

"How long did the matrix remain hidden?"

"We don’t know."

"Location?"

"A royal estate temporarily assigned to the Valentines."

"How many people moved through it?"

"Hundreds before the event. Thousands during preparations."

Raven narrowed her eyes.

"And no one noticed."

"No."

She rested two fingers against her chin.

"Then it isn’t simply a powerful witch."

Vlad waited.

"It’s someone extremely good at hiding her work."

"Exactly."

Raven released a slow breath.

"Do you have residue?"

"Probably."

"Fragments of the circle?"

"Those too."

"Bodies?"

"Some of the infiltrators survived."

She looked at him.

"Werewolves?"

Vlad failed to hide his reaction.

Raven smiled.

"Your face is still easy to read."

"You already knew?"

"No."

"Then how—"

"You only come looking for me when something involves witches, demons, ancient magic, or women who don’t want to talk to you."

Vlad remained silent.

Raven added:

"Sometimes all of them at once."

He took a deep breath.

"I need you to examine the magic."

Raven smiled immediately.

Vlad realized his mistake.

"That wasn’t a request."

"Of course."

"It was a proposal."

"Naturally."

"I can pay."

Raven leaned back in the armchair.

"You are the Vampire King."

"Yes."

"You came to my house."

"Yes."

"After nine years."

Vlad was already starting to regret this.

"And you need my help."

"Technically—"

Raven smiled with satisfaction.

"Then ask."

The silence that followed was probably the hardest part of the entire night for Vlad.

"I want the help of the Witch Queen’s daughter," Vlad said, almost physically twisting with discomfort. "P-p-ple—"

"Words aren’t magic, although they can be magical when you decide to be polite. Come on, little Vlad. Say ’please.’"

"P–precisely because of that, I obviously want a contract," he said.

Raven looked at him with a scowl.

"Proud until the fucking end, huh? Go fuck yourself."