Hmm, no, that's not quite right. If we're forcing a comparison, there is one. Though their statuses are worlds apart, they share one common trait: they're both girls.
That's a bit of a dig, isn't it? It's downright impure! Setting Maya aside for now—young masters who enjoy playing all sorts of delightful games with their maids aren't exactly rare in this world. But Isabella is Valed's own sister! Even if Valed doesn't fully acknowledge that bond mentally, bloodline-wise it's one hundred percent accurate. To put it bluntly: all talk of refusal, but the body tells a different story...
Valed shook his head violently, banishing all those messy thoughts from his mind. He then delivered his conclusion: "Anyway, keep it down. I'm going back to sleep." Turning away, he shook his head once more before slamming the door shut with a loud bang.
"Have I spoiled him too much?" Isabella stared at the closed door, a hint of disappointment creeping into her thoughts. Should she start asserting her sisterly authority more firmly, perhaps? Make this disobedient little brother behave himself?
But Isabella quickly dismissed the notion. As she'd said before, their "playful sparring" always ended with Valed emerging victorious. Time and again, she'd resolved to discipline him, only to soften instantly after spending even a few moments with him.
This realization left Isabella feeling deflated. She sighed, "I really am a good sister," then shot Maya a fierce glare before turning away. She descended the stairs, stepped outside, and boarded a carriage bound for her lessons at the academy. Lady Windsor, Valed's mother, had left for work even earlier that morning, not even catching a glimpse of her son.
Because Valed's father had died young, and he was only a six-year-old child, Lady Windsor had no choice but to act as the lord of the manor. She bustled about daily managing the affairs of the Count of Kastanin's estate. Unfortunately, the countess was not a natural at governance and had almost no experience. So despite her busyness, the results of her estate management were not very good. In fact, she often seemed to make things worse.
Yet despite her low efficiency, no one could accuse the Countess of lacking diligence. In fact, her efforts bordered on excessive—one might even call it heart-wrenching devotion. Privately, Valed had pondered the reasons behind her tireless work: partly because her husband's death had left her with little to live for, and partly because she sought to safeguard the family estate for both her deceased husband and her son. This devotion compelled Valed to feel profound gratitude.
"In ten years, when I come of age, you'll finally be able to rest," Valed had once whispered to Lady Windsor. But once she had entrusted him with this heavy burden and confirmed he could shoulder the responsibility without her, could Lady Windsor truly go on living?
Valed forced himself not to dwell on this question. Truthfully, there was nothing he could do about it.
After scolding Isabella, Valed returned to bed for another two hours of sleep. He awoke reluctantly, not because he was rested, but because noon had arrived and his tutor would soon arrive. It would be rude not to greet him.
With this thought, Valed stretched, yawned, and reluctantly climbed out of bed, shaking his sleepy head. He took a warm towel from Maya's hands and wiped his face, feeling a bit more alert.
"Maya, what time is it?"
"A little past eleven in the morning, young master." Maya recalled clearly that shortly before Valed rose, the clock tower atop Dekenhove Castle had struck twelve chimes—a day in this world also lasted twenty-four hours. A year likewise comprised three hundred and sixty-five days. Of course, for Valed, who had previously lived his entire life in space, this held little significance. In his era, ancient Earth had long become a memory and legend.
As for timekeeping devices, though this world's technology was primitive and crude, the ever-present magical winds enabled civilized races skilled in harnessing such supernatural forces to craft convenient and precise timepieces. Moreover, these timepieces were inexpensive to produce and required no advanced craftsmanship. Even an apprentice with a basic understanding of artifact fabrication could easily make one.
"It's already this late?" Valed grumbled reluctantly, reluctantly dismissing the tempting notion of catching a few more winks. As he complained, he rose to his feet. With Maya's assistance, he washed up, combed his pale golden hair into a ponytail, and dressed. Then he began his breakfast: toast, ham, fried eggs, and a vegetable salad.
Of course, the special seasoning—blood—was indispensable. After finishing his meal, Valed rinsed his mouth with lemon water before gently "kissing" Maya's neck. He drew in enough blood to ease his craving while replenishing his magic.
The taste of fresh blood slowly spread across Valed's palate. It brought an exhilarating, almost euphoric sensation. After a moment, Valed reluctantly released his mouth, lingering on the memory of that feeling. If there was anything about life in Sylvania that troubled Valed, it was likely the vampire's innate, primal craving for blood—perhaps the only true discomfort.
This craving was distinct from hunger; it was more akin to a drug dependency. Without blood to ease the agony, the pain became unbearable. For vampires, this was a profoundly fatal flaw.
Unlike mentally fragile humans who couldn't overcome addiction, vampires recognized this weakness. They had made countless attempts to break the curse, or at least minimize its risks.
All vampires undergo treatment—or punishment, or trial—to break their blood addiction before reaching adulthood. They are confined and provided only regular food and water, with no blood offered whatsoever, for at least one month. Only those who successfully endure this rite of passage complete their initiation. The longer one persists, the stronger their will is deemed, earning greater respect and praise.
The most accomplished practitioners of this discipline are the Blood Dragon Knights of the Abathur-Hrasin clan. These knights, whose wills are harder than steel, can abstain from blood for their entire lifetimes. These ascetics of the vampire world rank among Sylvania's most elite warriors. Legend has it their progenitor once single-handedly defeated a red dragon.
But those were ancient tales. Valed was only six years old, still six to eight years away from adolescence, ten years from adulthood. Vampires were generally lenient toward their immature kin, so confining him to a dark room without food was unthinkable.
After washing, dressing, and grooming, Valed examined himself in the mirror and nodded in satisfaction. The mirror reflected this scene: a young boy with emerald-green eyes and delicate features, his golden hair tied in a ponytail. He wore a white shirt adorned with two rows of golden buttons and tasseled cuffs, draped over a cloak of black with a crimson lining. Embroidered across its back in gold thread and red thread was a golden chalice brimming with blood. Black trousers and black riding boots. A slightly shorter rapier hung at his waist.
Thus presented, the outline of an exceptionally handsome, slightly sickly vampire noble was already evident. Valed himself was quite satisfied with this look. Though admittedly, for a vampire, this outfit was a bit commonplace. At gatherings, the likelihood of someone wearing the same thing was quite high.
But none of that mattered. Valed wasn't one to fuss over appearances. Likewise, he paid no mind to the peculiar moans his personal maid had emitted during his recent feeding, nor to the faint blush still lingering on her cheeks.
At 12:30, Miss Tracy—Valere's tutor and the lead instructor for the magic course his sister Isabella attended—arrived. Valere referred to her as "the good one."
Now 124 years old, Miss Tracy was a junior to Lady Windsor, Valere's mother, during their time at the academy. It was said she had received considerable care from the Countess back then. Vampire families often invited close friends to serve as tutors during their children's early education. This practice also served to strengthen the bonds between the families.
Had Valed's stepfather still been alive, his current tutor would likely have been one of his father's closest confidants. But his father was dead. Now, his mother ruled the Castane family. Thus, the tutor invited was her own dearest friend.
Valed felt indifferent about this arrangement. He simply didn't care. As his tutor, Miss Tracy demonstrated exceptional professionalism. This aspect satisfied Valed completely. Though initially, she had expressed some concern to his mother—before accepting the role, the Countess had hosted a banquet for Miss Tracy. It was on that day Valed first met her.
At the time, Miss Tracy hadn't made the best first impression on Valed. To him, she seemed an exceptionally frail, even sickly woman, appearing utterly unreliable. But after hearing the Countess's introduction, Valed realized he'd been mistaken.