"What happened?!" James asked in panic.
Jota glanced at him briefly, his face still calm.
"Just one vampire attacked."
For Jota, a single vampire was no major problem. But to James, it sounded extremely serious.
"Jota," James said tensely, "a vampire attack during the daytime isn't normal."
Jota then asked, "James, do you know why a vampire would be able to attack during the day?"
James fell silent for a moment before replying, "I don't know either."
Jota shifted his gaze outside through the shattered window. The sky looked heavily overcast, even though it should still have been daytime.
The cloud-covered sky wasn't a natural phenomenon. It was the work of vampires, using magic to conceal the sun over the city of Jormun.
The earlier attack had been aimed directly at James's residence.
James was the headmaster of the Royal School.
That meant the assault was not mere terror—it was an attempt to assassinate James. Moreover, the Royal School itself was surely a place that harbored many vampires within it, unbeknownst to others.
Before long, night fell.
In the middle of the night, Jota came to Viola's room carrying a bottle of blood. He handed it to her with his usual expression.
"Here. Drink."
Viola accepted the bottle. Her throat did feel a little dry. Though disgust lingered because she still wasn't used to it, she forced herself to drink.
Within a few gulps, the bottle was empty. Strangely, the blood tasted delicious and refreshing—just like the blood she had drunk before.
Jota stepped out of the room. Before closing the door, he said quietly,
"If you get bored, call me."
For some reason, Sofia's intuition told her that those words were not merely casual concern.
And her intuition was right.
Viola's body could not sleep at all. Vampires didn't need sleep like humans did. Now she understood why Jota had said, If you get bored, call me.
Several hours passed. The silence of the night grew increasingly suffocating. Eventually, dawn began to approach.
Out of sheer boredom, Viola gathered the courage to enter Jota's room.
There, Jota was fast asleep. Even in sleep, his posture looked neat and composed.
Without realizing it, Viola reached out and gently stroked Jota's head.
Once.
She did it again a second time—
suddenly, her hand was firmly grabbed.
"Eh—my hand?!" Viola murmured in panic.
It was Jota holding it. His eyes remained closed, his breathing steady. Yet his grip did not release her.
Before she could pull her hand back, Jota tugged her strongly.
Viola lost her balance and fell—
right on top of him.
Now they were incredibly close, almost no distance between them.
His eyes slowly opened, immediately meeting Viola's as she hovered above him. That gaze made her heart race. Her mind went blank for a moment.
He's awake…
Viola instinctively held her breath. She expected to be kicked away or shoved aside. But that assumption was wrong.
Instead of reacting harshly, Jota gently lifted Viola with both hands. He set her down on the bed in a seated position.
His movements were calm, without many words.
Viola fell silent. Her shoulders were stiff, and she didn't know where to direct her gaze. Her face felt hot—even her ears were flushed.
Silence filled the room.
Viola tried to speak, but not a single word came out. She lowered her head, avoiding Jota's eyes.
Her heart beat faster and faster.
She truly didn't know how she should act now.