She stepped closer—close enough that I could feel the warmth of her breath. Her hand rose to my collar, and I felt her fingers trail gently along it. Our eyes locked for what felt like minutes, until she finally stepped back.
"Take off your shirt," she said, as if it were a trivial request. I complied without hesitation.
The cool air prickled against my bare chest, which surprised me—I hadn't felt cold in years. I realized, just then, how much I preferred warmth, though I suspected I wouldn't be getting much of it tonight.
I stood there as she circled around me once more.
"The necklace you wear—are you actually a follower, or did you just wear it to placate the cultists?"
"I wore it because they gave it to me, Your Highness."
"I see. Well, take it off. It disgusts me to see it on my property. Such a vile religion… To think everyone could be reborn equally goes against the natural laws of this world."
The instant I removed the necklace, I felt a distinct change. Suddenly, I was acutely aware of the fires nearby—their movement in the wind, the voices they seemed to carry. My body, always slightly warmer than most, now felt almost hot to the touch. A sharp sensation throbbed through the mark on my back, like a steel wire boring deeper into my flesh, inching closer to that organ implanted in me so long ago.
"Oh, oh my—this is something… I didn't think there was an actual blessing involved." The princess seemed to relish watching me. While there might not have been any obvious changes from the outside, I felt them all churning inside. My face barely managed to hide the pain, tears dampening my eyes.
"It's okay to cry. I won't tell anyone." She'd stepped in close to say that. I also noticed something in her hand. I didn't see her do it so much as I felt it: she slipped the necklace back on me. The effect was nearly immediate, but I could still feel faint echoes of the transformation. Thankfully, the pain was far less than before, so I endured.
"I felt pity seeing you struggle to keep a brave face," she went on. "So I decided to help you. In return, there's something I wish to try." She moved to the table near her bed, where a plate of what must have been her dinner sat.
"Your wish is my command, Your Highness," I managed between ragged breaths, fighting to steady myself.
"I read somewhere that a gladiator's blood can be invigorating… that it strengthens the body. I suspect yours might be even more special. So I'd like to find out." She wrapped her fingers around the small knife beside the plate and returned to me. Words stuck on my tongue—this request was more than I could process—but before I could voice a protest, she drew the blade across my chest in a clean, decently deep cut. Blood flowed in a morbid stream.
Without hesitation, the princess grabbed her water goblet, dumped its contents, and pressed it against the wound below the fresh cut. In moments, it was half-filled with my blood.
She tilted the cup, and I heard and saw its contents flow down her throat. It was an unsettling sensation, realizing someone was feasting on my very body. She kept drinking until the goblet was empty; when she lowered it, her lips were stained deep red.
"I could get addicted to this, you know," she mused. "It was almost like a sweet red—in both consistency and taste."
"I'm glad I could be of use, Your Highness," I replied, bowing my head. My eyes involuntarily flicked to the knife still in her hand.
"Nonsense. You've been useful even before that," she said offhandedly. "Now, it's late, and I don't want you falling behind on your morning training. You're dismissed. I'll call for you if I need anything else."
She'd already turned back to her plate of food, not even sparing me a glance. Taking that as my cue, I stood and walked to the door. The guard in the room watched me the entire time, his expression unreadable, but I sensed the faintest sympathy in his gaze.
I slipped through the door and spotted Instructor Kushim down the hallway by a window, staring out at the moonlit view. As I moved toward him, I suddenly felt a prickle of awareness—someone was watching me from the opposite direction. Turning my head, I saw a cloaked, feminine figure standing at a distance. Even from that range, her silhouette felt eerily familiar, and something about her aura resonated deep within me in a way I couldn't explain.
"Oh, you're done. I honestly expected you to take a bit longer, but I guess at your age, stamina isn't the most pressing concern," Instructor Kushim remarked, his voice drawing my attention away from the cloaked woman.
What are you talking about sire, she just wanted to speak with me." I faked not knowing what he was speaking about as I didn't want his comment of being weak in bed to stain his honor.
"Ah, she just wanted to tal—" He stopped short, noticing the fresh cut on my chest. "Boy, what happened to you?"
"She wanted to taste my blood," I said simply, figuring it was pointless to lie.
"What the— I knew something weird was going on." He shook his head. "Anyway, let's leave before she tries anything else."
He turned and headed back down the corridor, presumably toward the slave quarters. I glanced over my shoulder in search of the cloaked figure, but she had vanished. Letting out a soft sigh, I followed Instructor Kushim, my thoughts spinning with questions about what had just happened—and why that mysterious silhouette had felt so strangely familiar.