"If you want, I can prepare another glass for you. You can't—"
"Merle," Meredith interrupted him. "There is a good amount of love in sharing."
The scent of the tea wasn't anything nice other than its usual smell, but beneath the usual smell lay another old, finely brewed wine made from an angel's blood.
They wished for a willing angel. But even the blood of an unwilling one tasted like pure ambrosia to their palate. Something they craved more than human blood to satiate their thirst.
Lucille smiled as she won the ladies favor over her butler. The fine scent of the blood tea that reached her nose made her curious about how good the tea would taste.
She stretched her hands out to pick up the glass of tea that Merle hesitantly gave her. He was unwilling to give it away, not because he wanted only the Reign's family to have a taste.
In the past, an angel's blood was served among the guests in the mansion; in fact, he was saving himself and the seamstress from trouble.
