Leilania's ears lowered slightly, her delicate hand moving from her face to rest upon the table. She lifted a sautéed asparagus to her lips, chewed softly, and swallowed before speaking.
"I'm sure our magic—or perhaps some of our books on science, animals, and alchemy—could help you," she said softly. "I'm more than willing to do what I can, my lord. And… I'm sorry your people don't treat you as they should. The war has stained both our lands and our people."
Alexandru leaned back slightly, his expression soft but distant. "Alchemic knowledge and extra cattle would benefit my research greatly. As for my people…" He gave a faint, humorless smile. "They see me as a threat. I murdered their king—my father—unceremoniously. No duel, no trial. One night, we simply fought. He deemed me a traitor, and halfway through the fight I stopped defending myself. I struck back. I never wanted to slay him, but he was a shell of who he once was… the man I knew as a child."
His eyes flickered to the faint scars visible past Leilania's blindfold. "He would never have attacked a young woman. Ever."
He sipped from his goblet of crimson, his tone steady but heavy. "You haven't been blind for long, have you? I can tell by your movements—your stubborn grace. When did he do it?"
Leilania swallowed, sitting a little straighter as the conversation turned. Slowly, she reached up and removed her blindfold. Across her face, three deep scars marred her pale skin, tracing from the bridge of her nose to the corners of her eyes. The sightless orbs beneath were a pale, cloudy blue, faintly glimmering in the candlelight.
"When he tried to take our home," she whispered. "I… I don't know how long ago it was. I was pulled to safety, but drifted into a coma. When I woke… I had to relearn everything. The world, the sounds, the scents…" Her words trembled. "It's still hard. I try to—ow!"
Her hand jerked as the knife pricked her finger. A bead of rich, crimson blood welled at the tip. "A-ah… I'm sorry," she murmured, wincing.
In a flash, Alexandru was beside her. His hand caught hers gently, his other reaching for the napkin at his lap. But then—the scent. It was intoxicating, unlike anything he'd smelled in years. His throat tightened; his breath grew shallow. He looked up at her with eyes that glowed faintly amber in the candlelight.
"Vampires have an ability that benefits others," he said softly. "Do you wish to see it?"
Leilania's blush deepened, her voice trembling. "I—I don't know… what would it do? H-how could you help?"
Her words faltered, the scent of her own blood teasing the air. The maids nearby froze, glancing at one another—and at the royal guards watching sharply from across the hall.
Alexandru did not wait for further consent. He lowered his head and caught her fingertip between his lips. His warm tongue traced the length of her finger, gathering the blood before closing over the cut with a soft, lingering kiss.
Her breath caught. The wound sealed almost instantly beneath his lips. Her blood was impossibly sweet—rich and warm, carrying a faint metallic edge that danced on his tongue. It was unlike any he'd tasted before.
When he lifted his head, his voice was calm again. "Vampires once hid in the dark," he murmured. "We were nocturnal hunters—drink and flee. But our saliva has healing properties. Long ago, we would find prey, drink, heal the wound, and vanish. We were never meant to kill. Our greed made us monsters. Feeding is a need; murder is a choice."
Leilania's face was flushed crimson, her breath shallow as she whispered, "I-I see… I'm sorry that so many turned to murder. Thank you… for healing me. Too bad it's too late for my eyes, but… I appreciate your efforts, my lord."
Her ears had turned a delicate pink.
Alexandru smiled faintly, hearing the tremor in her tone. "Truth be told," he said softly, "if I gave your mages a bit of my saliva, there might be a way to restore your vision. I make no promises."
He sat beside her, ignoring his meal entirely now. That taste of her blood had awakened something old and feral inside him. He hadn't felt it in a century. "Have you tried every solution?" he asked gently.
Leilania nodded, her voice barely above a whisper. "Yes. But… if I see again, what if I don't like what I see? What if the world feels different? What if I look at you—and see your father?"
Her shame hung heavy in the air.
Alexandru chuckled softly, his tone gentle, almost paternal. "The world wants you to see it, Leilania. Your people cannot thrive beneath a blind queen. Your enemies will strike unseen. Your guards will pity you. But the world is still beautiful. The sun still shines, and I will remain your ally no matter how you see me."
He smiled faintly, teasing, "Besides, most of my features come from my mother's side."
He lifted her hand and pressed it to his face. "I am not driven by rage or pain. That alone, you can already see."
Her fingers traced along his cheekbones and jaw, exploring his face. "You're right," she whispered. "You look very Elven… and… handsome."
Her cheeks reddened. She cleared her throat, flustered. "I—I need to bathe and put in my eye drops. Please, feel free to explore our library while you wait—or if you cannot sleep. I can't read for you, unfortunately," she laughed softly, "but I'm sure you'll find something of value. I'll see you later, my lord."
With a gentle nod, she stood and excused herself. One of the maids hurried to her side, guiding her carefully out of the hall. Another lingered with the cask of blood and Alexandru's goblet, ready to follow him.
Alex watched her leave, an uncertain ache tugging at him. He couldn't tell whether he had crossed a boundary—or simply startled her.
When he noticed the maid still holding the heavy goblet, he smiled faintly. "You needn't carry that. It's a rather large goblet, and I'm not thirsty," he said kindly, chuckling as he rose to follow her toward the library.