Maybe she had seen something wrong. Dalia froze, as if unable to believe the scene unfolding before her eyes.

But as she slowly closed and opened her eyes repeatedly, it became clearer that this was reality.

The moonlight pouring over Clayton was revealing his actions even more starkly.

Was she blankly staring at the vivid blood flowing down his forearm, exposed by the half-torn sleeve?

Strangely, at this moment, her first thought was not fear or terror.

Beads of sweat glistened at the ends of his hair.

The man kneeling towards the sky looked like a priest making a confession. It was beautiful.

She wondered if something was wrong with her eyes, as even the moonlight illuminating his body seemed sacred.

Blood dripping from the corner of the man’s mouth fell to the ground with a steady drip, drip.

Just as she felt the rhythmic sound was unreal, like the second hand of a clock,

Dalia, belatedly coming to her senses at the intensifying scent of blood, let out a short gasp.

The red warning sound began to ring in her head belatedly. As soon as she realized this, Dalia reflexively took a step back. But.

Crack.

With the sound of a twig snapping underfoot, the steady sound that had been heard suddenly stopped.

The man, who had been desperately craving his own blood without knowing someone was there, flinched and turned his head.

Red eyes filled with excitement and violet eyes tinged with bewilderment tangled messily in the air. A moment of silence passed.

Before Dalia, who had finished assessing the situation, could react, Clayton quickly rushed over and pounced on her.

“Y-Your Grace…!”

It happened in the blink of an eye.

Dalia ending up helplessly pinned under Clayton. Her dress tore under the rough touch of the man who had completely lost his reason.

Clayton buried his face in her exposed white neck.

“Your Grace, wait… ugh!”

Goosebumps rose as something hot and moist stroked her skin. It was the exact same situation as what happened at the mansion a few days ago.

The only difference was that then it was indoors, and now it was outdoors, making it slightly worse.

The startled Dalia desperately called his name, but unfortunately it did not reach Clayton who had lost his senses.

She tried pushing his shoulders, but he didn’t budge.

Rather, the more she resisted, the more persistent Clayton’s tongue movements became.

Sharp teeth grazed the sensitized skin of her neck.

‘So in the end…’

I’m going to be eaten. Realizing she could not stop the current Clayton with her own strength, Dalia squeezed her eyes shut.

And just as she tensed her body as if bracing for the pain that would soon come,

Right before the fangs pierced Dalia’s neck, all of the man’s movements stopped.

Then the massive shadow that had been pressing down on her, as if to dominate her body, disappeared.

Feeling suddenly exposed, Dalia slowly opened her eyes. Then she saw Clayton’s original face that she knew.

The expression of the man who realized what he had just done was one she had seen a few days ago.

Shock, fear, and intense self-loathing.

It was an expression where various complex emotions were chaotically mixed.

Clayton, who had been covering his face with both hands as if in agony, moved away from Dalia as if having a seizure.

Then he bowed his head deeply as if trying to overcome something.

“…Go.”

Clayton muttered through clenched teeth.

Dalia got up, hearing his voice trembling slightly with some unknown fear.

He had turned his back to Dalia, blocking his view with both hands as if squeezing his face.

Dalia, adjusting her dress that had been torn and hanging in tatters by Clayton’s hands, put her hand to her neck.

Fortunately, there was only the man’s saliva on it, clean without a single wound.

“Um, Your Grace…”

Dalia, having calmed her startled heart, called out to Clayton in a voice even calmer than before. But.

“Go! Get out of my sight right now!”

Clayton, who had moved back another step from Dalia as if having a seizure, bowed his waist even deeper.

“After all I’ve endured until now…!”

Then he burst out with the resentment he had been suppressing.

“With what feelings have I been enduring! You… you came all the way here on your own feet?”

“…Your Grace.”

Clayton, barely holding onto his reason that was about to break, continued speaking.

Even just looking at the man’s back, she could tell. His trembling body showed that he was now overcome with uncontrollable emotion.

Unable to contain his anger, he faced Dalia.

As if trying to unleash everything that had built up inside him, he shouted in a harsh voice.

“For fear of drinking your damn blood. For fear of ultimately tearing your throat with my own hands, how much have I…!”

Clayton’s face distorted uncontrollably.

The self-loathing was palpable at having been caught showing his lowest self to the person he least wanted to show it to.

And only after seeing that sight did Dalia let out a sigh.

‘So you were holding back.’

At his last words blurted out inadvertently, about not wanting to drink her blood, she realized why Clayton had been avoiding her and acting sensitive all this time.

He had been trying to protect her.

He had been fighting a painful battle alone, trying not to drink her blood.

With this brief realization, countless events from the past flashed through her mind like a kaleidoscope.

Bringing Loyd to the mansion and having Loyd come as her partner instead of herself, all of it…

It was Clayton’s plan to protect her in his own way.

But then she showed up at the Imperial Palace without warning. It was hard to imagine how he must have felt.

Dalia felt sorry for her ignorant actions towards him, as well as grateful.

‘If I give Clayton my blood…’

He wouldn’t have to suffer like that anymore. She had already vaguely sensed that he wanted her blood.

Also, it was only a matter of time before she would have to take on Loyd’s role, just a bit earlier than in the original story. There was no need to hesitate. Perhaps.

‘This might be an opportunity.’

An opportunity to make Clayton fall in love with her. As soon as the thought finished, Dalia immediately sprang into action.

She took a fallen branch on the ground, split it in half, and sharpened one end. And then.

Stab.

She scratched her palm hard. Red blood flowed out through the wound cut by the branch.

Clayton stiffened once again at the scent of blood that assaulted his nose.

Then he looked at Dalia with an expression of disbelief.

More precisely, at her palm that was emitting such a strong sweet scent it made his head spin.

“What are you doing…!”

“Drink it.”

“…What?”

Despite his voice asking in surprise, Dalia’s voice remained calm and steady.

“My blood. I’ll give it to you. You’ve been suffering a lot, haven’t you?”

“I…”

Clayton’s face crumpled. He wanted to drink. But he didn’t want to drink. Agony, conflict, and anguish flashed in his eyes.

“It’s alright, Your Grace. So…”

Dalia smiled as she took a step closer to him.

Dalia’s voice was like that of a witch said to have seduced sailors at sea. He could neither reject nor shake it off.

“Drink me.”

The witch’s final words ultimately made him surrender.

With the sound of reason snapping, Clayton instantly approached Dalia’s side.

Then he slowly lowered his head and kissed her palm.

He began to lick her blood with his tongue, burying his lips in the palm where blood had pooled. Persistently, as if not wanting to leave a single drop.

“Hah…”

Along with the tickling sensation on her palm, a strange feeling of heat rising in her body began.

Even though he was just drinking the blood seeping through the wound on her palm, it somehow felt as if he was thoroughly examining her entire body.

How long had he been licking her palm like that?

Clayton raised his head. The man’s red eyes reflected in the moonlight were particularly vivid.

He moved his head after removing his lips.

From her wrist to her arm, to her exposed white neck.

After silently gazing at the white skin faintly shining in the moonlight, he murmured softly.

“Dalia.”

His moist lips tickled her neck every time he spoke.

“You’re the one who said it was okay.”

His voice was rough, heavily suppressed. With those final words, Clayton sank his fangs into Dalia’s neck.

Along with the pain of being pierced by a thick needle, came the sensation of the pooled blood being sucked out somewhere.

“Ah…”

It hurt. But it was just as hot. Heat rose throughout her body and her breathing slowed.

As her vision blurred, Dalia clung to Clayton’s clothes and went limp.

He responded by embracing the writhing Dalia even more tightly.

It was the quenching of a thirst that had been suppressed.