Avira’s entire world collapsed and rebuilt itself in that soft, almost tender utterance of “Sister.”
Those eyes—always ablaze with a wild, crimson fury—were now locked onto Sylvia with unblinking intensity.
Her breath halted.
Her heartbeat stopped.
Even the blood in her veins ceased to flow.
A thousand years.
For a full millennium, no one had ever called her that.
Avira leaned in slowly, her body tilting forward until the tip of her nose nearly brushed Sylvia’s cheek.
“You just… just now…”
Her voice was as light as a feather, but trembling on the edge of shattering.
“What did you call me?”
Sylvia’s scalp prickled.
She felt like a frog caught in the gaze of a deadly serpent—any wrong move could invite a fatal strike.
She lowered her eyelids, too afraid to meet those dangerous eyes.
Summoning all her strength, she forced two words out of her throat:
“Sister…”
The air froze.
Avira’s pupils suddenly constricted, her entire body stiffening like a statue.
More than ten seconds passed.
Then, abruptly, she sat upright, grasping Sylvia’s slender arms with a grip strong enough to snap fragile bones.
“Say it again!”
Her breathing was rapid, her chest heaving violently.
Her face twisted with a mixture of ecstatic joy and pain.
Sylvia’s face turned pale from the pain.
But she dared not struggle.
“Sister.”
“Say it again! Say it again, quickly!”
Tears welled up in Avira’s eyes, her voice trembling.
“Sister…”
“Hahaha… hahahaha!”
Suddenly, Avira erupted into manic laughter.
She released Sylvia, falling backward onto the carpet and curling up into a ball.
Her laughter echoed throughout the empty bedchamber.
She laughed for a long, long time before finally stopping.
Turning over, she sat up cross-legged again.
Those crimson eyes gleamed with a terrifying brightness.
“Sylvia, my dear little sister.”
Avira’s voice regained a childish cheerfulness.
Yet beneath it lay a possessiveness a hundred times more intense than before.
“Are you hungry? Do you want something to eat?”
“There’s a freshly delivered Unicorn Heart in Mother’s Preservation Chamber. They say roasted, it tastes quite good.”
Sylvia’s stomach churned.
Even this fragile body reacted physically to such words.
She shook her head.
“Don’t like it?”
Avira tilted her head, her innocent expression hiding danger beneath.
“Then I’ll just kill the Chef—his cooking makes you lose your appetite.”
“No, no, it’s not that!” Sylvia hurriedly explained.
“I… I’m just not hungry.”
“Oh, I see.”
Avira nodded, then brightened with a new suggestion:
“Then let’s play something else.”
“I’ll take you to the Torture Chamber?”
“There are many toys there that sound lovely when they cry.”
Sylvia’s face paled further.
She shook her head again.
Avira’s brows furrowed slightly.
The temperature in the bedchamber dropped several degrees.
Sylvia felt her heart climb into her throat.
She knew she absolutely could not keep refusing this madwoman.
Just as she wracked her brain for a way to respond—
Knock, knock, knock.
A soft knock sounded at the door of the bedchamber.
“Come in.”
Avira’s voice held clear displeasure.
An elderly Vampire Maid entered, carrying a silver tray and bowing deeply.
On the tray rested a steaming cup, emitting a peculiar sweet fragrance.
“Your Highness the Long Princess, this is Her Majesty the Queen’s ‘Warmth Spring’ prepared for the Little Princess.”
The maid’s voice was humble and respectful.
“It will help her adapt to her new body more quickly.”
Avira’s gaze fixed on the cup, her frown deepening.
“Put it down, then leave.”
“Yes.”
The maid carefully placed the tray on the bedside table.
Then, bowing, she took slow steps backward.
Not a sound escaped her throughout the process.
Just as she was about to leave the room—
Avira suddenly spoke:
“Stop right there.”
The maid froze instantly.
Standing still, back turned to them, not daring to move a muscle.
Avira’s voice whispered like the reaper’s breath.
“You looked at my sister.”
The maid began trembling uncontrollably.
“Your Highness, I did not…”
“You looked at her for more than a second.”
Avira’s tone brooked no denial.
“And there was envy in your eyes.”
Sylvia’s heart clenched.
What?
The maid tried to protest.
A shadow shot out from beneath Avira’s feet in a blur too fast to see.
The shadow wrapped around the maid’s ankle.
“Ah!”
A sharp, brief scream.
The maid was yanked backward violently by the shadow, falling onto the floor facing the ceiling.
Her face etched with pure terror.
She opened her mouth, seemingly trying to beg for mercy.
But more shadows surged from the floor, instantly covering her mouth and nose, silencing her completely.
Then those shadows began to crawl inside her body.
Her limbs twitched violently.
They twisted at unnatural angles.
Her eyes bulged, bloodshot.
No screams, no struggles.
Only the sickening sound of bones being crushed inch by inch: crack, crack.
Within seconds, the living Vampire Maid was reduced to a twisted, unrecognizable corpse.
The shadows silently retreated, merging back into the darkness beneath Avira’s feet.
Having done all this, Avira didn’t even glance at the corpse.
She turned back, offering Sylvia a pure smile.
“All right, now no one will disturb us.”
“She envied your beauty.”
“That made you unhappy, didn’t it, Sylvia?”
Sylvia stared at the mangled corpse not far away.
Her stomach roiled.
Her mind went blank.
She bit her lip tightly, struggling not to vomit.
“What’s wrong?”
Avira leaned closer, concern in her voice.
“Why the long face? Did it scare you?”
Sylvia said nothing.
She just kept staring at the lifeless body.
At the innocent life extinguished.
Avira followed her gaze and suddenly understood.
“Ah, so you think this dirty thing spoiled your eyes.”
She snapped her fingers.
***
A burst of Black Flame appeared out of nowhere, instantly consuming the corpse and all spilled blood.
Not a single speck of ash remained.
The maid had never existed.
“Better now?”
Avira looked at her expectantly.
Sylvia slowly closed her eyes.
Fear, disgust, helplessness.
All tangled together, finally dissolving into a cold, dead silence.
When she opened her eyes again, those blood-red orbs showed no trace of emotion.
She looked at Avira and said, her voice unnervingly steady:
“Sister, I’m hungry.”
Avira’s eyes lit up instantly.
Bright as a child who just got candy.
“Wonderful!”
She clapped her hands happily.
“Let’s go to the Dining Hall! Mother should be there too!”
She stood and naturally reached out her hand to Sylvia.
Sylvia hesitated for a split second.
Then placed her slender, cold hand into the very palm that had just mercilessly ended a life.
Avira gripped her hand tightly.
As if holding the whole world.
She pulled Sylvia along, striding briskly toward the door with light steps.
“I’ll tell you, Mother’s Chef isn’t bad at cooking.”
“Just scaredy-cat. Last time I told him to roast a human knight, he actually fainted.”
“Pathetic.”
Avira’s voice echoed down the vast corridor.
Sylvia followed silently, letting herself be pulled along.
…🙃