Conversation at dawn

Marcos and his men only returned to the mansion in the Black Forest shortly before dawn. At the entrance, Albert awaited them with an irritated smile. Marcos felt he had not an ounce of energy left to deal with the old vampire at that moment.

But there was nothing to be done. He walked towards Albert with the slowest steps he could manage, which made the veins on the elder's forehead bulge with anger.

When he finally stood before him, Marcos smiled as cordially as he could and said in a mocking tone:

— Isn't it a bit early for a man your age to be awake?

Albert huffed and replied in the same tone:

— And isn't it a bit late for someone as young as you to be getting home, boy?

Marcos smiled, surprised by Albert's sharp response.

— She is waiting for you, boy — Albert continued. — And I warn you: she is not happy.

Marcos did not reply, simply entered and headed for the mansion's second floor. The door to Isabella's office was open, and he was surprised to see her sitting in an armchair, holding a book upside down with a confused expression.

— I don't understand. The protagonist is so stupid — Isabella said, turning the book again. — She was kidnapped and just waited for the protagonist to save her. What an idiot. I bet he's already forgotten about her. If I were her, I would kill the villain and his henchmen and come back for revenge on the protagonist.

Marcos broke into a cold sweat at the seriousness in her voice.

— I guess not everyone is as strong as you, Countess.

Isabella turned her gaze to him, frowning.

— Strength? Since when is strength necessary to kill someone, little dog? There are many ways to create death, chaos, and suffering. All that is needed is willingness.

The confusion in Isabella's eyes turned into anger.

— You are young. I'm sure you will learn. When you live as long as our kind, certain things become specialties.

Marcos felt a pang in his chest at those words. For the first time since arriving in this world, he feared for someone other than himself. The image of Baltazar's wife and daughter came to his mind.

Isabella threw the book onto the coffee table and stood up.

— So, why did it take you so long?

Marcos recoiled at the question. He tried to think of an excuse for his delay but chose to be honest.

— I went to see my old family.

— Old? — Isabella arched an eyebrow.

— Yes, old — Marcos replied, his voice heavy. — As much as I want to give them back the father and husband they lost, he is no longer here. The man they are waiting for to come home is already dead.

In an instant, Isabella moved with supernatural speed and appeared right in front of Marcos. She looked directly into his eyes as if she could see his soul. Marcos held his expression firm and met her gaze.

— You don't lie, little dog. At least, not to me.

Marcos frowned, confused. Isabella turned and walked to her desk, pulling out a chair and sitting down.

— The Church has moved. They sent a new bishop and two hundred inquisitors. The Petrovs have also summoned their packs, somewhere between one hundred and twenty to one hundred and fifty wolves.

— Good numbers — Marcos commented. — But this is just for show. An open war won't happen. They just need to protect their own.

— And what about us? Won't we protect our own? — Marcos asked, curious.

Isabella shook her head.

— There are forty-three vampires in Yorfen who belonged to Bartholomew. I will use the Church and the Petrovs to wipe them out. They are neither useful nor loyal enough to be spared.

— I don't see commoner vampires betraying you.

Isabella scoffed.

— I don't care about their betrayal. I just don't like them. But it doesn't matter. The new bishop is the real reason for this war. He carries something the king wants. And I have some history with him.

She looked up at the ceiling as if seeing a distant scene from the past.

— How long has it been? Forty, thirty years? Doesn't matter. But I'm glad I get to settle the score.

Marcos had never seen Isabella smile like that. She looked truly happy.

— I knew that if I caused trouble, he would volunteer to come.

Marcos felt a knot in his stomach. He knew that in the next month, a bloodbath would occur, culminating in a battle that would destroy much of Yorfen. He didn't want to take sides, but he knew he had no choice.

— Albert and Bertram have work to do. I will need you to handle some matters in Yorfen before the new bishop arrives. And when he does, you will have more tasks. If you do well, I will give you a reward worthy of your efforts.

She extended her hand.

— Now, give me the documents you collected from Ottis. Bertram told me it was a good amount.

Marcos trembled at the mention of Bertram's name. He knew Bertram was in the mansion, but he hadn't noticed his presence. The fact that Bertram had managed to get so close unnoticed frightened him even more, especially after his visit to Baltazar's family.

— Don't worry, little dog. He won't harm them.

Marcos trembled again, hating every second of his interaction with Isabella.

— Tomorrow night, you will go to Yorfen. There is a small church in the slums. You will infiltrate it, I don't care if by force or otherwise. In the basement, there is something I want.

— What is it?

Isabella closed her eyes, exhausted by his question.

— You will know when you see it. Now leave. I'm tired of looking at your face, mutt.