Chapter 75: The Man in the Tailcoat

Lestat gave a slight nod and said, "Sheffield, this is Miss Anran." 

At that, the man in the tailcoat looked up and addressed her, "Miss Anran, it's a pleasure to meet you." 

He was handsome, exuding the charm of a mature gentleman. His deep brown hair framed a face with sharp, angular features. His eyes were narrow and amber-colored, his complexion pale, and his high forehead and hollow cheeks gave him a refined but almost severe appearance. At first glance, Anran felt a strange sense of familiarity, as if she'd seen him somewhere before. 

"This is Sheffield, the steward of the Morris family," Lestat added. 

"Hello," Anran replied quickly, her eyes lingering on Sheffield with a hint of curiosity. 

Beside her, Richard, hands in his jacket pockets, said impatiently, "Enough chatter. Let's eat already." 

Anran glanced at him discreetly but said nothing. 

The dining table was long and rectangular, with Anran seated on the left side and the Morris brothers across from her. The seat at the head of the table remained empty. 

Breakfast was a simple yet abundant spread of Western dishes: roasted tomatoes, poached eggs, toast, and more. 

At first, Anran felt a bit self-conscious, but after her first bite, her appetite kicked in, and she realized just how hungry she was. 

After sipping her English breakfast tea, Anran praised sincerely, "This is the most delicious breakfast I've ever had. Your chef is incredible!" 

Sheffield, standing nearby, replied, "Miss Anran, it's my pleasure." 

Anran blinked, slightly puzzled. 

At that moment, Lestat explained, "Sheffield oversees all matters within the castle, including the breakfast you just enjoyed. Moreover, it was Sheffield who found you unconscious last night and brought you back to the castle." 

"Oh, so it was Mr. Sheffield who saved me. Thank you so much," Anran said earnestly, standing up to bow in gratitude. 

Sheffield quickly stepped aside, saying, "It was nothing, Miss Anran. Please, just call me Sheffield." 

He knew the truth of the situation and felt undeserving of her gratitude. 

"So, what exactly happened to me? I… I really can't remember," Anran asked, her voice tinged with unease. 

Sheffield had already prepared an explanation. "Ah, yes. Last night, I went to the bar district in town to select some rum for the master. On my way back to the castle, I found you lying unconscious on the ground. Since I didn't know your address, I took the liberty of bringing you here." 

"When you found me, I was already passed out on the ground?" Anran pressed. 

"Yes, you appeared to be suffering from exhaustion," Sheffield replied. "Oh, and there was a silver motorcycle nearby, which I also brought back." 

Exhaustion? 

Anran was baffled. She had always been in good health—how could she have suddenly collapsed? Was it the stress from all the strange events she'd been dealing with lately? She couldn't think of any other explanation. 

"That's my motorcycle. Thank you again," she said gratefully. 

Before Sheffield could respond, a cold voice interrupted: 

"I'm finished with breakfast, Sheffield. Clean up the dining room." 

Anran turned to see the handsome boy with violet eyes casually holding a glass of red wine, his demeanor arrogant, alluring, and dangerous. 

Yet, the plate in front of him was still piled high with uneaten food.