Chapter 61: Dracula

They followed the wall to the corner of the bay window. Suddenly, she clearly heard Kiyan and Sebastian's voices.

"...Winter, but to me! How could you?" Sebastian snapped.

"I'm not the one giving the orders."

"Who?"

"Her. It's always been her. Don't tell me you didn't figure it out? After all this time?"

"How? She's so young, for God's sake!"

"For now," Kiyan growled.

"She looks so much like her. That's what I thought. But in reality... it's her! From the very beginning! You're my best friend and you didn't tell me anything!"

"I'm sorry. One day, you'll understand I didn't have a choice. Please... don't hold it against me."

"And her mother? Your so-called best friend—does she know anything?"

So-called?!

"No."

"All this time... right under my nose. I'm only forgiving you because I know you suffered even more than I did in this damn story."

"You have no idea."

"Oh, but if you think I won't take my shot, you're dreaming!"

"The dice have been loaded for so long I don't even remember when it all began. Haven't you understood? We don't get to choose. She does," Kiyan repeated. "And I know you don't share, but if you want her even a little, you'll have to—"

A crash rang out.

"You forget who I am!" Sebastian roared.

"Oh no, my friend. I forget nothing. But that era is over."

"You have no idea who she is! Or what she's capable of!"

"And you do, perhaps?"

"Oh, I do! I'll have her, make no mistake. Even for you, I won't step aside. For no one."

"Neither will I," Kiyan shot back.

"I am Dracula! What I want, I take!"

"Well then, you'd better hurry. Competition is fierce. And she's still just a child..."

"You're wrong. She hasn't been for a long time. Some girls will never become women... and others are born as women already. Like men. If you think I can't see through your game..."

Asher looked Blanche up and down, as if confirming Sebastian's words, with that brief, focused analysis that, coming from someone barely two centimeters tall, was surprisingly intimidating.

Especially when you knew who he was.

Not long, not lingering... just enough to make it perfectly clear: he was checking. Seriously.

Wait... Who exactly are they talking about?! Her?!

Because really. She glanced down at herself—a universal reflex in situations like this, just in case she'd missed something obvious, like a "mysterious object" label stuck to her back. Nothing. Still her. Still the same.

"But what a stubborn mule!" Kiyan went on.

"And you? That's rich coming from—"

Blanche decided she'd heard enough. She walked away without a word.

She already knew all of this. She had read it. How was she supposed to decide anything when she herself didn't know what would come next? It felt like being a snake eating its own tail.

Realizing she needed air—and probably a minimum of emotional dignity before she fainted in a highly unflattering way—Asher led her further in to tour the greenhouse, with the earnest energy of a miniature tour guide taking his role far too seriously. It was splendid: the flowers, the water features, the pollen harvesting, the insects under the colony's protection—everything operated with an almost irritating precision, as if nature had finally decided to get organized for once.

The pixie introduced her to his family, of course, because there was no escaping that kind of moment. His father was incredibly kind, the sort who radiated such immediate warmth it almost made you want to apologize for existing in front of him. His mother, on the other hand, was so beautiful that Blanche was left speechless—literally—with that brief mental lag where even thinking becomes optional.

And then came the number. Over twenty siblings.

Blanche blinked. Once. Twice. Just to make sure she'd heard correctly. Because at that point, it wasn't a family anymore—it was an organization. A system. Practically a small family-run business with continuous production.

She cast a glance at Asher, torn between genuine admiration and mild logistical concern. Because honestly, managing that many individuals—even in miniature form—was either a miracle... or a very specific skill she wasn't sure she wanted to study too closely.

Ten minutes later, Kiyan opened the door and calmly informed her it was time to leave.

She said goodbye to the pixie, who answered with a radiant smile, then followed her guardian out of the greenhouse, not without casting one last look at Sebastian, who had put his glasses back on.

No trace of the broken glass.

Kiyan must have made it disappear... or the vampire had taken care of it. Sebastian extracted a promise from Kiyan to return that evening: their discussion wasn't over.

"When the kids are in bed," Kiyan grumbled.

She felt a bit stung, even if technically, at night, she wandered through a snowy forest—perspective mattered.

They headed back to the elevator after greeting the vampire king, in that awkward moment where no one quite knows whether to say more or just leave with dignity—an option they chose, probably for the best.

Asher returned to his post with the focused seriousness of someone going back to something important, no matter how small.

Sebastian didn't take his eyes off her as the doors closed, of course—because leaving on a vaguely unsettling note seemed to be his specialty.

The kind of look that says nothing... yet somehow says far too much, leaving her with a strange feeling she would have preferred to ignore—with little success.

Her hand itched the entire way down. Literally. Unbearably.

She had only one urge: to slip it into Kiyan's.

As if her brain had decided that was THE solution to everything—the discomfort, Sebastian's gaze, that diffuse sense of not being entirely stable anymore.

He stepped out first, looking troubled, with that very clear way of walking straight ahead that said: don't ask questions.

She took the opportunity to whisper one last goodbye to Nicky-Asher through the camera, knowing he'd be the only one to hear—one of the advantages of a well-placed microscopic headset.

She discreetly blew him a kiss, quick, almost imperceptible... the kind of gesture you make hoping no one notices, while being fully aware that, in a place like this, someone always does.

Fortunately for her, this time, the "someone" in question barely measured two centimeters and seemed capable of keeping a secret. In theory.

"See you soon," he replied.

Then she left the building, certain they would all see each other again very soon.