The Purity

Chapter Four

"Let him rest, Ernest, we all need some sleep."

You can't say you expected the King, a man rather willy with his fortune, would be the one to make sense but, as he rubs his forehead, he does make a good point.

Lord Ernest rolls his eyes, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Please, sleep? He sleeps less than us and we don't even need it."

"Look, it's a lot of information, humans have very," the King glances at you before whispering to his friend. "simple minds."

You huff under your breath, but you don't have a rebuttal. Lord Ernest lets out a scoff, clearly unimpressed by King Orpheus' comment. He unfolds his arms and takes a step closer to you, his expression stern. 

"Fine, let the imbecile rest. But when he wakes up, we continue with our plans."

The King places a hand on Lord Ernest's shoulder, his voice filled with a mixture of empathy and caution.

"We will proceed, my friend, but let's allow our dear here to rest and gather their thoughts. Tomorrow, we can discuss our next steps."

Lord Ernest grumbles under his breath but eventually nods, conceding to the King's suggestion. He turns to you, his tone softer than before.

"Rest, [Y/n]. We have much to discuss when you awaken."

"As you are a servant but also served as a lamb tonight," King Orpheus begins. "you have two choices for your bed, a room with Lord Ernest or to join me. Not in that way, I assure you."

Lord Ernest's expression tightens, and he shoots a disapproving glare at the King.

"That's enough, Orpheus," Lord Ernest snaps, his voice filled with irritation. "The servant is mine, try to remember that, would you?"

King Orpheus chuckles, obviously amused.

"Ah, so you're not just jealous as a feral, I see."

Lord Ernest huffs with a scowl, a low growl erupting from his throat.

The tension in the air is palpable as Lord Ernest's frustration boils over. His eyes flash with a mix of anger and possessiveness, his fangs threateningly bared. King Orpheus, unfazed by Lord Ernest's display, simply smirks and crosses his arms.

"Oh, don't get your fangs in a twist, Ernest. I was merely teasing. I know very well who the servant belongs to."

You hold up a hand, trying to calm the atmosphere.

"Gentlemen, please. We've had a long and eventful night. Let's not let this escalate further. I appreciate both of your concern, but I'll take the room Lord Ernest offers."

You direct your gaze to Lord Ernest, giving him a reassuring smile.

"I trust that you will ensure my safety, Lord Ernest."

Lord Ernest's growl subsides, and he seems genuinely surprised that you chose him over the King. He masks that with a curt nod, trying not to allow you to see the instinctual beast within him trying to purr.

Truly, you just wished to not be skinned by your master. He is a beast, no matter what handsome face he wears.

"Very well, [Y/n]. I will ensure your safety and make sure you have a comfortable rest."

"So, am I just... here?"

Chef Marcelo jumps in, taking off his mask. Two old scars just below his eyes, you remember that day. He had accidentally teased to far and the Queen; King Orpheus's mate who has passed away; had attempted to remove his eyes.

Strong vampires are attracted to strong vampires.

Lord Ernest glances at Chef Marcelo, his expression hardening. All of his quick softness ripped away in one predatory glint of his eyes.

"Und," You reel back in shock, Marcelo instinctually growling at the insult. Und; underdone vampire in human language, an insult that runs deep in their language. King Orpheus laughs, walking to the steps and listening for feral screaming. Lord Ernest is unfazed and continues. "You have the servant quarters, don't you?"

Lord Ernest's words hang in the air, filled with disdain and superiority. Marcelo's growl intensifies, his anger evident as he clenches his fists.

King Orpheus hums.

"Two bats in a catfight. Anyway," he twirls slightly, shifting on his heel to look at you three. "everyone's stopped, suppose so little blood can only do so much. So, off to bed."

_____________________________________

You stare at Lord Ernest.

He's taken the veil off and his face is calm, reading through some book about scentless blood in the midnight dark. Better night vision, easier to see their prey.

You cough, uncomfortable no matter how plush this bed is.

"Lord Ernest, are you going to stay awake all night?"

You once heard a rumour spread by mortals that vampires can't stand the sunlight, but the moon reflects the sun's rays. And you've served a vampire all your life, so you know that isn't true.

"I don't need sleep. I've had enough blood today that I could stay up for months."

"It's quite uncomfortable."

Lord Ernest's eyes flicker to you, a shining yellow no matter the lack of light. Lord Ernest closes the book he was reading and sets it aside, his gaze fixed on you.

"Do you wish for me to put you to sleep?"

Vampires and their powers.

You swallow.

"It would help, wouldn't it?"

He sighs, standing from his chair and moving to sit on the bed next to you. He doesn't touch you, but he does gesture for you to lay down.

"Very well."

You lie down on the plush bed, pulling the covers over yourself, and Lord Ernest remains seated beside you.

"Putting a mortal to sleep without going for their throat, what has become of me?"