Another week passed, and Ashen found himself diverting from his initial goal to chase down the answer to a different question.
'Why is her blood so tasty? It's driving me nuts.'
He was having a genuinely bad time trying to manage this body's impulses and keep himself to only what he needed, and Seraphine's taste made things considerably worse.
It was enough to send him hunting through the library for answers. He was fairly certain it was common knowledge among other vampires, but he didn't want to risk asking and invite more scrutiny; the strange looks the castle's residents threw his way when they thought he wasn't watching were already proof enough that his demeanor was nothing like the original soul's.
From the gossip he'd overheard, they had settled on an explanation: their lord had simply fallen hard for his consort, which accounted for the uncharacteristically warm behavior. They seemed more relieved than concerned. Some residents were even praising him for emulating Noctari.
The original soul, apparently, had made victims of his own household as freely as anyone else.
His thoughts evaporated the moment Seraphine sauntered toward him, rolling her hips with sultry rhythm.
She wore a gown… in the loosest possible sense of the word.
The neckline plunged all the way to her navel in a V, barely containing her heavy, jiggling tits. Ashen could see how her pink nipples sometimes peeked through the flimsy fabric. With every step, her breasts threatened to spill completely free, bouncing lewdly for him to watch. Not to mention the thigh-high slits that started at her hips, making each sway of her legs flash her entire bare plump asscheeks, since, of course, there were no panties to restrain them.
If she took one slightly wider step, something else would peek out shamelessly…
The cherry on top was just the way she looked at him with her innocent face, as if she was daring him to bend her over right there and ruin her.
As she moved in a way that was only calculated to make his cock throb and mouth water, Ashen slowly remembered how the nun's habit changed to this.
It all started with those meddlesome, wicked maids who had somehow convinced the once-proper Seraphine that this obscene excuse for a dress would "captivate" their lord like nothing else. They insisted she wear it whenever she was near him.
"For maximum effect, my lady," they kept parroting.
All they wanted was for their lord to stay as smitten as he currently was, and they were apparently willing to dress his consort like a courtesan to ensure it.
Seraphine wasn't naive. She knew exactly how whorish it looked. But after two weeks of Ashen teasing her mercilessly with hungry kisses, rough hands, and nothing more, something had snapped. That something was her shame, and so she had made her move.
She first cleared every male servant from the castle, claiming she wanted complete privacy for a surprise. Once the halls were empty, she stepped into the role his staff had apparently written for her.
The shameless teasing had been relentless since. From books dropped in front of him and retrieved with a slow bend at the waist to every opportunity to press herself against him taken without hesitation.
Ashen, above all else, was confused.
He did not mind this wild side of hers, even if he had to suffer the consequences of having to constantly hold himself back. The eye-candy more than made up for it, and her attempts at seducing him were endearing.
But that was also what puzzled him.
'Does she… not care about her Chastity anymore?'
They both knew the rules. When she first saw him restrain himself, she realized that he knew about her restriction. Since then, an unspoken understanding had settled between them. They wouldn't talk about it, but they'd honor it.
…Well, as much as they could.
Seraphine had grown bolder from that point on, trusting him to stop before it went too far, even when she herself was lost in the moment.
'But lately… it almost feels like she wants me to cross the line.'
"So deep in thought?" Seraphine finally nudged him. It seems that her patience was clearly exhausted. "What's on your mind?"
He looked at her, and his eyes almost immediately drifted down.
Seraphine noticed his wandering gaze, but she only offered a naive, playful smile.
"I'm thinking about you."
"Aww… how sweet. Come here, let me hug you." She unceremoniously used the opportunity to press his face between her breasts.
"MmmM—!"
"What is it?"
"Buah—! You rascal… enough hugs. Let's go over what we found."
"Oke!" Seraphine obediently settled back, forming an O with her thumb and index finger. "I'll go first since I didn't find much this time."
"Sure." He gestured for her to continue.
"Remember how Noctari left seven offspring?" She took a seat across from him and folded her legs, the slit on the fabric riding high up her thighs. "Each one died, one way or another. Unsurprisingly, this mysterious Darkness took them down one by one… all but one."
She pointed at him. "The current primordial isn't one who naturally ascended from a newborn; they're one of the originals. And yes, as you've guessed, it's you." She retracted her finger and grinned. "Or more precisely, the body you're inhabiting. So congratulations. You are officially a relic of a bygone era."
Ashen deadpanned. "That's cool, but is it relevant to our situation?"
"Not by much," she shrugged, "but the original primordial blood is said to be special due to its direct connection to the Sacred Beast." She tilted her head. "Maybe we're being targeted for your blood?"
"Hmm." He didn't dismiss it. "I'll study this body more closely and see if there's really anything special enough to justify the death of an entire race."
"On that note, I found something about vampire blood."
"Tell me." Seraphine leaned forward, clearly interested. She had been curious about every facet of this race since they arrived.
"Their blood carries an enormous amount of vitality," he said. "So much that consuming it becomes almost absurdly nourishing."
Seraphine blinked. "Nourishing how?"
"In the way that makes every race want it," Ashen said dryly. "Healers, warriors, nobles… if they have any sense, they want vampire blood. It closes wounds, restores strength, and slows exhaustion. When the donor's rank is high enough, it can repair things a body shouldn't be able to repair."
"That good?"
"That good." He nodded. "And it doesn't just patch things up; it slowly reconstructs the body toward a healthier, more complete state. Stronger bones, better vitality, and even… a body leaning closer to its most perfect form."
"That sounds less like blood and more like a miracle cure."
"Which is exactly why they hoard it." He leaned back slightly. "Vampires almost never give it away."
"Why not?" Seraphine tilted her head.
"Because blood isn't just blood to them." He lingered. "Remember how vampires don't die of old age? Even if their bodies are destroyed, even if their brains are ruined, as long as blood still flows, they can regenerate and come back."
Seraphine's expression changed as she processed that. "Of course… their blood is essentially their life. How could they give it away freely?"
"More than that." His tone turned more serious. "It stores the memories and emotions that make them who they are. That's why they can survive things that should kill them outright… their blood keeps the self intact."
"Oh…" Her brows rose. "So if someone drinks it…"
"They don't just receive the vitality. They can access those memories and feelings too." He glanced at her. "Which is the main reason vampires don't share it casually."
"That does sound like a terrible thing to spill on a napkin."
"It would be a very expensive napkin."
She snorted.
"There's one more thing," he continued.
"Oh?"
He looked at her with a faint, knowing expression. "For vampires, blood tastes better the more positively they feel about the one they're drinking from."
Seraphine went still for half a second.
Then she narrowed her eyes. "...That's a real thing?"
"Apparently."
A slow smile crept across her face. "So the more they like their prey, the better it tastes?"
"That's what the books say."
"Well." Her smile turned mischievous. "That's awfully convenient for you."
"Convenient?"
"Mm-hm." She tilted her head. "You looked like you were enjoying yourself just fine earlier."
"...Can't deny that."
And there it was.
The answer to the intoxication he felt every time he tasted her blood.
After all… the love he carried for her had never had anything complicated in it. There was no ambivalence or reservation about it, and certainly nothing that could dull it. It was purely, simply positive.
And if there was one thing he had never once practiced abstinence from…
It was loving her.