Sanguine Rose

Chapter 9

"Human?" Damian's question hung in the air, a pointed reference to the two vessels of crimson life essence that Emmanuel had nonchalantly placed on the table.

"Indeed. But fret not, it wasn't procured through violence. It was a gift freely given." Emmanuel's words were a soothing balm, a reassurance wrapped in a riddle.

"Emmanuel, the act of giving, while under the spell of hypnosis, is far from voluntary." Damian's retort was a sharp contrast, a reality check that elicited a soft chuckle from Emmanuel.

"You're trespassing into the sanctum of the sentient again, Damian." Emmanuel's words danced in the air, a playful jest upon realizing that Damian was delving into his thoughts. "At the very least, I didn't extinguish her life nor did I curse her with our eternal night." Emmanuel added, sinking into the opposing sofa, his legs elegantly crossed.

"Her?"

"Yes. Blood of a pure maiden. It will serve as a potent elixir to restore your strength. You prematurely emerged from your coffin and departed, even though the hour of your awakening had not yet arrived! Well, whatever. You always do what you want, you don't listen. Hard-headed as ever," Emmanuel said in a grumpy tone which Damian just ignored.

"Well, how's Lystrana? Or should I say, Catarina?" Emmanuel's words were a symphony of curiosity and concern, punctuated by the sound of him savoring the blood.

Damian exhaled heavily, a sigh that seemed to carry the weight of centuries. He rose, his hands disappearing into his pockets, and drifted towards the window, his gaze lost in the obsidian canvas of the night sky.

"She's well, Emmanuel." Damian's response was a whisper, a soft echo in the silence.

"Hmm. If she's indeed well, why does your countenance bear the mark of worry?" Emmanuel probed, his words a mirror reflecting the melancholy in Damian's tone.

"Ah, I find myself envious of your ability to navigate the labyrinth of thoughts. If only I possessed such a gift, I wouldn't need to expend my breath on inquiries." Emmanuel's jest was a spark of levity in the somber atmosphere.

"Emmanuel, she confronted me about the painting. Her likeness from a life once lived. I'm burdened with guilt for withholding the truths she deserves to know. But fear, Emmanuel, fear has shackled me. I tremble at the thought that if she uncovers my vampiric curse, she might recoil in horror and distance herself from me." Damian's confession was a torrent of frustration, a river of fear and regret.

"She's being hunted by the specter of her past in her dreams. I know she's adrift in a sea of confusion. Emmanuel, she perished without the knowledge of my curse, on the very night she breathed her last. Even if her memories as Catarina resurface, I'm uncertain if she can still embrace me." Damian's words were a poignant testament to his inner turmoil.

"Well, if you wield your ability, you'll uncover whether she can accept your truth or not." Emmanuel suggested meaningfully.

"I can't read her. She's the limit of my wisdom in reading mind. Moreover, even if I could, my conscience would serve as a formidable barrier. I can't intrude into the sanctuary of her thoughts, Emmanuel. I refuse to become an unwelcome visitor in the sacred realm of my beloved's mind." Damian's response was a firm declaration of respect and love.

"So, it's forbidden with Lystrana, but with us, it's permissible anytime? That's rather unfair." Emmanuel's words were a playful jab, a jest wrapped in feigned hurt.

"Emmanuel, please, act with the wisdom of your age." Damian's retort was a ripple of irritation.

"Ouch! That's a low blow! I'm forever young at heart, Damian! Besides, I'm immune to the ravages of time!" Emmanuel's exclamation was a burst of youthful defiance, causing Damian to chuckle softly. Damian could only shake his head at his friend's relentless joviality.