The Vampire & The Priestess

by hanbunshonen

Summary:

He call smell it: the distinct scent of blood. When he approaches the source, he comes across the dead bodies of what looks like knights of sorts. Where's the woman and the bleeding horses? He can smell those too. He follows the tracks of what seems to be a four-wheeled carriage, and those tracks lead straight down a shallow cliff. Down there, the horses are slowly dying, and inside the upturned carriage, he finds an unconscious young lady, dressed in white. He can't tell if that's a wedding dress or some religious garnment, but what he can tell is that she's alive and breathing, and real fucking pretty too.

Notes:

Character profiles:

Boothill:
Age: Perpetually 29
Backstory: Taken in as a new-born in a small village with vast farmlands, he grew up to become a hunter (the best of his kind), farmer and a father to a new-born girl. When one day the village wakes up to find two of their young girls gruesomely murdered, Boothill goes on the hunt of the perpetrator, following clues across the country. He returns home months later, the culprit's head in hand, only to find the village in flames, and the body of his daughter wrapped in his shawl, asphyxiated by the smoke, her caretaker but a few feet away, sprawled across the ground with a bullet through her head. He only finds one clue, a ring of diamond and gold that could only belong to nobility. Now on a quest for vengeance, he quickly realizes the limitations of his human body, a body that can't jump high, can't see in the dark, can't hear across the forest, and can't smell presences. His best bet is to visit the pureblood vampire of a faraway castle, in hopes of making a successful trade...

Robin:
Age: 23
Species: Winged
Backstory: Daughter of the High Priest of The Priestdom, and beloved by the people, she travels the land to offer healing and blessing. Rarely staying home long stretches at a time, she remains oblivious to the schemes of her father and older brother, who slowly but surely plunge the people into poverty, malady and misery. When the civilians finally undertake a revolt against the nobility, she is one of their targets and finds herself forced to seek asylum in a neighboring country. However, she cannot stay hidden for long, she must fight for her people, correct the wrongs and heal the priestdom of it's wounds, all of that before the weakened domain gets invaded by opportunistic rulers. She is not alone in this quest, her devotees will clear her name and rally behind her to bring her to power. Or so they thought, but on her way home her carriage is attacked, the panicking horses pulling her straight down a cliff to their deaths... But is Robin truly dead?

Chapter 1: Vampire & Priestess

Her eyes flutter open, met with the night sky, trees rustling with the breeze, and a warm source of light. It is a camp fire, with branches crackling as they succumb to the heat. She isn't cold, and she isn't alone. That much she realizes pretty quickly from the figure she makes out on the other side of the flames. She rises, her head immediately struck with an ache. She reaches for it and finds it bandaged.

« Awake, are you? » She hears from the voice of a man.

She turns, or tries to, but her body is certainly covered in wounds and bruises from the fall with how painful it is to move. She is regaining sensation everywhere, little by little. She was lying on a bed of dried leaves, and covered with a coat. Her crown and belongings sit beside her. Atop of the fire an animal is being cooked, a hare, from the looks of it.

« Benefactor, thank you for your help. What about my guards and horses? » She asks, she couldn't have made it out alone, surely?

However, the man, with long white hair, shakes his head.

« I see. »

« I was passing by, the smell of blood guided me. » He explains, finally raising his head to meet her gaze. His skin is ghostly pale, and his eye is a bright red. One side of his face is fully covered with long, black and white hair.

« A vampire? » She had never seen one before, they always stay as far from her holiness as possible, but she knew the basics of their characteristics. A face drained of blood, piercing carmine pupils, pointed ears and sharp canines. « I mean- my apologizes, it slipped out in surprise. »

« If you can move, eat up, bet you're starving. » He doesn't acknowledge what she said, tilting his chin at the meat that is just about to be charred.

He resumes his own activity, seemingly grinding herbs in a mortar. Medicinal herbs, she concludes, noticing now the cut on her arm that is dressed with green paste and a makeshift bandage.

« Thank you, good sir. There is no further need to care for my wounds. I...possess the power to heal myself. I only need replenish my stomach before I can. »

« ...Figures. » He mutters. It seems he does recognize her priestess getup.

 

After having her share of the meat and a cup of boiled water, she gathers her hands together, and whispers a prayer in a language he doesn't understand. A gentle light surrounds her body, and the scratches on her face and hands disappear.

« See? I'm all better now. » She smiles, her glow gently dissipating.

Her wounds are gone, and she removes the bandage on her forehead to prove it. He nods, and lowers his gaze. As expected of her holy powers, his eyes are sore and his skin feels itchy, he has to hold down his wrist to stop from reaching for his neck and scratch at it. He just needs some time for his body to settle down. It shouldn't take long, he had drunk plenty of blood from those dying horses, his thirst is quenched, and as disgusting as the blood had tasted, he should be revitalized.

« If you wish to bathe, there's a stream not far in this direction. » He extends his arm out left, « I will return to the carriage and scan the area for any traces of your assailants. »

 

That would put some distance between them. Between her intense, blessed aura, her captivating features and her delicious-smelling virgin blood, he can't take it anymore. His leg is shaking, his mouth is salivating, his fists are clenched, his nose is invaded, his head is clouded, his reason is slowly but surely slipping away from him, and he can't let her notice. It wasn't that bad when she was unconscious, her heartbeat was slow, and her holy disposition was faded, so it wasn't a problem in that moment of urgency. However now, as she is pretending to be calm, her heart is beating fast, her cheeks are flushed and she is sweating at her nape. Evidently she is alarmed, fearful, but does not want to act rudely towards this stranger who saved her life, and knows he is the only person in the vicinity that can be of any help.

 

She disappears into the direction he indicated, and he goes back to the crime scene. From how much the other bodies had bled out already, he knows he chanced upon her a while after the assault occurred. The assailants are long gone. Still, he inspects the vicinity, mostly to pass the time while the damsel in distress hums a tune in the distance. Some time later, they reunite in front of the fire.
« So, what happens now? » He asks, arms crossed.

« Don't you have any questions to ask before that? »

« None of my business. »

« I thank you for your discretion, benefactor... Then please, tell me how I can repay you for the boundless selflessness you showed in saving my life. I have not much on my person to offer but the riches you so kindly retrieved from my carriage, and m-my-...blood...? »

She hesitantly exposes her wrist in his direction, and he can't hold in the puff of amusement that escapes him, but god be damned, it makes his stomach jump. How can she so easily offer up her lifeline to a monster of his kind.

« Well aren't you a brave little dove? Keep your riches and your blood, a vampire has no need for traveling funds... Oh, but perhaps a noblewoman like you can help me. I'm looking for the maker of this ring. »

At the tip of his fingers, he holds the piece of jewelry.

« I am no expert in the subject-matter, but it is evidently a nobleman's. Our private jeweler might have some information-...If he is still alive, that is. »

« Dead or alive, he sounds like the best shot I've got at the moment. Take me to him. »

 

Chapter 2: Sun & Storms

He is a strange vampire alright, Robin thinks. He travels by day, covered from head to toe in shabby clothes, a pistol at his thigh and a rifle across his body. It has been three days since they have begun travelling together, yet he makes no effort to seduce her, drink her blood, or even kill her. That's not how vampires were presented in encyclopedias or novels. He is quite the opposite, in fact. Is it perhaps her holy powers that are stopping him from harming her?

 

« There's a village ahead, let's stop there for the night. » He announces, wooden cabins appearing atop the next hill over.

« Oh, thank you, Harmonious Goddess. I could not walk a mile longer!"

 

She wipes the sweat off her forehead, already dreaming about the soft pillow she will lay her head on tonight.

Within fifteen minutes, they cross the hill, and they're about to arrive to the gates of the community when a couple of villagers come running towards them, screaming for help.

 

It seems the soft, feathery pillow she would rest her head on will have to wait. She has no time to rest, for her help is urgently needed at the bedside of a dying child, bitten by a venomous serpent. It's nothing she hasn't dealt with before, and she swiftly takes care of the situation. She must admit she is drained of her energy after that, however.

Thankfully, she has earned the right for a warm meal, a warm bath, and a warm bed for as long as she wants to stay. The vampire that accompanies her though, does not earn the trust of the villagers so easily, until he shows them exactly how to trap unwanted reptiles in the vicinity. His meal isn't as warm as hers, just the body temperature of a pheasant, but that's enough to satiate him, or so he claims. She doesn't believe him, for some reason. She's certain the blood of fowl doesn't taste nearly as good as a whiff of her virgin blood, and would leave him hungry for more... But after exuding a huge amount of sanctity just now, he probably can't even come near her.

 

By the end of the first week, they close in on the border connecting the two countries. From this point forward, she must disguise herself, for she cannot, under any circumstance, get recognized by her enemies, lest her plans go to ruin. However, she has nothing to hide herself with to even enter the border town they will be staying at for the night.

 

« Wear these. » He offers her his coat and his red shawl.

« But, Benefactor, what about you? »

« I'll be fine, it's cloudy today. » He puts back on his long-sleeved gloves and his wide-brimmed hat, tightening the lace of his collar before taking off, leaving her no room to argue.

 

He acts as if the daylight is no big deal, but once inside her room of the inn, it's evident he's red as a beet, steam exuding from his skin.

 

« I'm sorry you push yourself to such extent for me, my good sir. Please, rest and heal. I will go shop for a proper disguise. » She says as she closes the blinds, then exits, leaving him no room to argue.

 

When she comes back, she finds him asleep on the bed, and thus finds out vampires do in fact sleep. She wasn't sure, because she has never witnessed him getting as much as a bit of shut-eye, and he didn't get a room for himself at this inn, but then again, who knows what he's up to when she's off to dreamland? She approaches as quietly as possible to observe his features up close, and he is indeed a most handsome specimen (she knew that already, but had to make sure anyway). Chiseled features, sharp eyebrows and a tall, straight nose, but he doesn't look peaceful in his sleep, his brows are furrowed, and small groans are escaping him. Surely it's not because of her holiness? How troublesome, perhaps she should step out until he wakes up.

 

« We've had our luck with the weather so far, it was bound to run dry. » She sighs.

 

The rain is coming down hard on the town, and the wind is strong. The traveling tradesman they were supposed to hitch a hike from had to delay his departure until the storm settled, leaving the pair to find ways to occupy themselves until they could leave.

 

« I have errands to run, stay here. I'll be back in the evening. »

« No way you are leaving me to die of boredom here all alone. Let me tag along! » She springs up on her feet, grabbing her hooded cape and her coin purse. « I need books for days like these. »

« Suit yourself, priestess. »

 

Defying the tempest, they first stop by an armory shop for bullets and a dagger. She is surprised to find out her benefactor can in fact have long-winded discussions when it comes to certain subjects. Apparently, weapons pique his interest and he appreciates the expertise of the shop owner who can recommend a discreet and light knife for a woman not used to wielding any.

« I beg your pardon? »

« You're gonna have to defend yourself at some point. Whether from the enemy...Or from me. »

« ...I do suppose that is reasonable. » She can feel her face burning up at the thought of him attacking her. « Are we done here? Let's find that bookshop, shall we? »

Chapter 3: Drink & Dance

« I hope you're excited for our next stop, Benefactor. » She smiles at Boothill smugly, awaiting a reaction.

 

With the storm passed, they have now departed on the cart of the merchant, who had held his promise.

« Why's that? » He raises a brow.

« Oh, I think I know why! » The other man interjects.

« You're not familiar with our land's traditions, are you, my good sir? Well, at Reef Town, said next stop, we celebrate the first full moon of spring, and I'm sure you've been keeping track of the phases of our dear moon, so you know what that means! » She giggles, unable to hide her excitement.

« The people of the Priestdom would never miss an occasion to celebrate, even with a civil revolt ongoing at the capital. Admirable, isn't it, my good fellow? »

« Hah, I suppose we never missed an occasion to drink and dance back home either. Life's too short. » A smirk sits the corner of his lips, she notices, until it is rudely interrupted by a bump on the road, making them both stumble like newborn fawns in the cart.

They regain their composure and sit across each other.

« So you have a home to go back to, Benefactor? » She asks with prudence, for she doesn't want to overstep, but wants to learn more about the man beneath the wide-brimmed hat.

« Wouldn't be here if I did. »

 

With the entire day spent shopping, snacking, running along the stalls, playing games with strangers and watching and listening to street performances, at sundown the pair find themselves resting at the terrace of the one inn that had just one room to spare for them. It overlooks the town plaza, giving them a beautiful view on the bonfire that had gotten started. Celebrations were far from over for the people of Reef Town. Robin gazes upon them, taking in their joyful faces.

« What an incredible blessing it is to be able to witness the happiness of my subjects again... » She sighs with a smile, sitting back in her chair, her hands gathered together to her chest. « When I left, for a while I thought I'd never see such sights again. »

 

His hand that is guiding his cup to his lips, stops, and he stares at her.

« ...I figured you were a high-ranked noble, I didn't think you'd be the fucking princess. » « Huh?! Did I--...Oh dear. » She covers her mouth, and her reaction makes him chuckle, she is like a child caught in a lie. « Well... » She regains a noble posture, looking right at him, and lowers her voice to a whisper only he can hear. « My name is Robin Oakwood. I am the daughter of the ruling Pope, Pope Gopher Oakwood, of the Priestdom of Oak. »

« Well I'll be damned, hah. Nice to meet you, Robin. You can call me Boothill. I hail from the far west. »

 

Tonight, Robin is discovering a new side to her benefactor. She thought of him as a brooding, quiet vampire, which is mostly what he's shown her so far, but it appears her assessment is completely off. For, with one too many drinks down the hatch, Boothill is boisterous, full of laughter and more than amicable with the other drunks at the inn. Bantering, gambling, arm-wrestling, she sees a man who definitely knows how to indulge in the best moments of life. And she does too! She is singing and dancing atop the tables, because this could be the very last time she gets to. She doesn't know what the future is made of, whether it's bright, or her head on a spike.

 

The drinks and the twirls make her dizzy, and she misses a step. The room gasps, she's supposed to fall on the floor, but, she lands in Boothill's arms.

« Careful there, dove. Can't have you cracking your pretty skull open on such a fine night. »

 

The room cheers for the save, and he fixes the bandana that is hiding her hair and her wings before it can fall off.

« Having a little too much fun, don't you think? »

« But my dear Benefactor, the night is far from over! »

 

The bonfire burns bright, and the townspeople dance in circles around it, honoring the tradition of centuries. Robin's body remembers the steps, and she teaches them to Boothill, who is an incredibly fast learner. Evidently, he's danced a lot in the past. And goodness, is it fun to dance with him, and nobody seems to care that he's a vampire. Sure, her nation knows many species, but they're mostly of Harmonious origins, and vampires, from what she recalls, are of Hunting origins. Perhaps it's because he's clearly just having as much fun as everyone, or is it because he's accompanied by a young woman? Probably, it's simply because she senses good in him, and so does everyone else.

 

So they dance and dance and the music doesn't let up. They spin, one way, then the other. They step away, and he pulls her back in. She isn't feeble for a Winged, but she can barely keep up with this vampire. She stumbles into him and he laughs, slowing down and helping her gather herself.

« Apologies, princess. I oughta show more restraint. » He smiles, and brings her back into the dance.

« I'm sure you restrain yourself on my account plenty enough already, my good sir. » She giggles, making sure to hold tighter onto his shoulder and his hand.

 

A spin, another, one step, another. They pull away from one other, and pull back into each other. Then, he doesn't let her go, his arm wrapped tightly at her waist, and his face is but inches away.

 

« Yet I can barely contain myself. » He whispers, and dips his head in.

 

Her eyes widen and she immediately covers her mouth with the back of her hand. Boothill presses his lips to her palm, and stays like that for the longest second of Robin's life. Then he looks up at her, and her face starts burning hotter than the bonfire.

 

« W-what are you--! »

« You've got no idea of the effect you have on me, do you, dove? »

Chapter 4: Berries & Blood

The following morning, she awakes, her eyes blinking open to see the plain wooden ceiling of the inn. So she's in bed, good. She doesn't recall how she got there, but she is safe and sound. However, her head is pounding like it never had before... Scratch that, it had, just two weeks ago. It was the first time she had drunk that much alcohol, hell, she had never even gotten beyond tipsy in the past. She turns around in the bed and presses her forehead against the cool surface... Of Boothill's chest.

 

She springs up with a gasp, realizing she is not alone in this bed. And he is not wearing a shirt. Wait, did they--?! She looks down at her body, and with a deep sigh of relief she thanks the Harmonious Goddess, for she is covered from head to toe, still. Then, she recalls last night's events, and blushes. She peers at the sleeping man, the handsome Boothill, and before any fantasies can pop up in her head, she slaps her cheeks. The sound makes his body stir, and he wakes up, his red pupils immediately landing on her. The next second, he is sitting up, turning his back to her.

 

« Sorry, I'll see myself out right away. »

 

He stands, finds his shirt sprawled on the floor and reaches for the door. However, when his hand lands on the latch, he stops. She stares, wondering what's overcome him.

 

« ...Fuck. I messed up. »

« What's wrong, Benefactor? »

« Cat's out the bag, princess. We've gotta get away from here, they know who you are. »

 

Thus, they find themselves deep in the forest, trekking through hidden terrain. The roads are off limits now that rumors of the princess' return have spread. It's only a matter of time before they reach her enemies' ears, and that means assassins will be on her trail anew. At the same time, it means her original plan might be back on the table.

 

Initially, she was supposed to meet up with the City Knights at Edge City, the second largest agglomeration of the land. Those Knights are led by a commoner Bishop, and they stand by populace's side. They assert that Robin is the only figure that can unify the land once more, for she is the highest ranking noble who is the very closest to the people. Their plan was to escort Robin back to the Palace to seize the throne and put an end to the Cardinals' quarrels over which one of them should inherit the title of Pope.

 

She hopes that once they hear the rumor, they will have the same thought as her and resume the original strategy.

 

At nightfall, Robin and Boothill set up camp. They had been walking in silence most of the day, and now that she's staring at the flames of the campfire, she inevitably recalls the previous night. She looks over at the man who had tried to steal her first kiss, and turns pink yet again. He looks like he doesn't want to ever mention it again, but she doesn't want to let him get away with it and act all broody like he's doing again. So she clears her throat and straightens her posture, her hands on her lap.

 

« Surely you have an explanation for the events that transpired last night, my good sir? »

 

He glances at her, and his head drops with a sigh.

 

« I was drunk, don't overthink it. »

« So when you drink, you go around kissing girls? You must have been kicked from your land for stealing so many lips, then? »

« I'm not some kind of kissing menace, you know. » He grumbles, apparently offended by the accusation.

« Yet my hand remembers the shape of your lips, why would that be? »

« ...Because I tried to kiss you, obviously. »

« And why did you? » She leans in closer to get a look at his face, hoping to see a blush on it, but then, he grabs her face and pulls her right up to his.

« Because I'm a man, and I had the prettiest girl of the land in my embrace. » He smirks, that aloof façade dropping from his features. « On top of that, I'm also a vampire, so your looks, your scent and your virginity drive me absolutely mad. I can barely fight my instinct, and I'm thirsty, and I know nothing will quench my parched throat like a drop of your blood will. But I don't drink human blood, » he lets go of her cheeks, pulling back from her, « So there's nothing I can do about it. »

 

She doesn't probe further after that. She had meant to tease him a little because she felt closer to him, but she overstepped, and felt sorry about it. So she sleeps, and he keeps guard.

 

The next morning she is woken up by Boothill, who seems to have entirely put aside last night's happening, and has some good news to share:

« I spotted these last night, and had an idea. » He shows her a bunch of berries he had gathered, « What say you we give it a try? »

 

With that, Robin finds herself with a whole new hair color, bright red, the perfect disguise that could let them get back on the road and into the cities. And that is how they travel for a few more days, until they have to stay in town for a week.

« Because I will be getting my blood very soon. » She blushes madly as she explains to the vampire, embarrassed beyond measure.

It's the first time in her life that she's had to have a conversation about this with a man, but it's something she could hardly hide from a vampire.

« ...Right. Thank you for the heads up, I'll keep my distance then. »

« We should be able to depart in 7 days, please come back by then. »

Chapter 5: Farmhands & Flattery

« Alright, before we go I need an update on our financial situation. What's it looking like, princess? » His arms are crossed seriously.

« Uhm... » A bead of sweat drops down her forehead.

He raises a brow at her, awaiting an answer.

« ...I could always sell my crown...? »

 

He sighs deeply, looking over at the stack of books she had bought over the past week. Had she not stuck her nose outside once while he was gone?

 

« We're selling those. »

« But!-- »

« No buts. »

« B-but I have no need for my crown anymore! »

 

He clicks his tongue and she sews her lips shut. He needn't say it, there is nowhere but the capital where any merchant could afford even a single of the precious stones on that meaningless headpiece. She drops her head in her hands and sighs in desperation.

 

« I didn't think my funds would run out so fast...I had meant to live so much more modestly... »

« There's paint on the walls of this inn and you thought that was modest? I didn't say anything this whole time because I thought you could afford it! »

« But there's no tapestry anywhere so I thought for sure!... »

« For fuck's sa--... Nevermind, it's fine. We're selling the books, problem solved. »

« ...Will we have to camp outside from now on? »

« Nah. You'll just have to learn what it's like to live in actual modesty. »

 

When they reach the next city two days later, in an effort to save funds, they stay at an inn that barely has more to offer than a what feels like a stack of hay on a bedframe. That means, of course, that there's not even a common bathing room in this...modest establishment. So, Robin has to find another way to wash up, and Boothill has just the idea.

 

« Two adults? » He asks at the front desk of the public bath house. He could definitely use a bath too, and nothing beats a warm one like they have to offer.

« 200 sancts. » The middle-aged lady answers, then lifts her eyes from the pile of towels she's folding, « Hold on son, you ain't human. »

« You don't allow my kind? » He raises a brow. Well, he's grown used to it over the years.

 

He has tried masquerading as a human before, cutting off part of his ears and pulling out his fangs, but they always grow back after an hour or so.

 

« Nah, no monsters. »

« Alright, » He turns to Robin, « I'll go back outside the city walls for a bit. Let's meet up at the inn later. And just scream my name if you're in trouble. »

« I understand... »

 

She's got one hell of a pout on that pretty little face, clearly upset by the discrimination he's confronted with, obviously not accounting for the fact that he's her direct predator, which is the very reason why he's being kicked out right now. But that's what he wants. For her to trust him, to rely on him, to like him, to need his protection, to stay by his side, so when the day comes, she won't fight it, she will give her entire self to him, and she will be in ecstasy as he drains her of every last drop of life in that feather-weight, supple, soft, body of hers. Or at least, that's what his instincts are shouting about in his head, because he's hungry. He needs a meal, and fast.

 

« See you later, dove. »

 

When he returns to the city, the sun has set. He walks in the direction of the inn, but soon realizes her scent isn't in that direction. Her scent takes him back to the bath house, which makes him wonder just how great the bath must be that she's been in there for well over four hours.

 

« S'cuse me, » He addresses the lady at the front desk, who isn't happy to see him again, clearly. « The lil' miss I came with hasn't come out yet, you mind letting her know I'm here? »

« I'm no personal messenger, son. Get out of here, I told ya, no monsters. »

« I'm only asking so I won't have to go in there myself and disturb the peace. Pretty please, my young lady? » Perhaps he can still have his way by using some of that vampiric charm.

 

Even if she pretends to dislike him, a little flattery goes a long way. He can feel her blood rushing up to her sunken cheeks, even if it doesn't show. She mumbles a 'fine' with a roll of her eyes and gets up, heading to the women's side. He hears her call for the winged red-head, and he hears Robin's voice responding.

 

« Your husband's waiting for you outside. Pesterin' me about you. »

« O-oh I see, thank you so much. My apologies on his behalf for the inconvenience. » She answers, and he feels her pulse picking up it's pace, which amuses him.

 

Her husband, eh? His beginnings as an farmhand would be far too humble for a princess of her stature though. Soon enough, her footsteps approach, but she doesn't appear, instead, it's her voice that does, discreet as a mouse.

 

« My dear Benefactor, I would come out, but I've...run into trouble. I can't find my clothes anywhere, I fear they might have been stolen. I've got nothing but a towel, I don't know what to do!... »

 

Her clothes, he finds them thirty minutes later, in the hands of a pig-tailed teenage-looking girl who evidently wasn't starving for food, so she must have simply had an inclination for robbery. It doesn't take much convincing for her to give them back, with Boothill's imposing figure towering over her ever so menacingly.

 

Thus, Robin can exit the bath house, her dignity intact.

 

« My dear Benefactor, you are truly heaven-sent. I was at a loss for what to do, and no one was willing to lend a hand. They must be used to robberies... »

« 'Heaven-sent.' » He repeats with a snort. « Come on, dove. Let's have dinner. You must be starving. »

« Ah, y-yes. Let's do that. »

Why she stutters there, he knows. It's because her heart skips a beat whenever he addresses her by that nickname : 'Dove'. He uses it because he can't call her by her name or princess in public, and he can't call her priestess either, 'cause that burns his tongue. Even when uttering 'heaven' just now, his mouth would start stinging. Her saintly powers are what keep him at bay, and keep him sane when faced with her. Her scent is oh so divine, yet the pure, blessed aura that emanates from her, his instincts tell him to avoid, or to corrupt. The urge grows stronger by the day, and he wonders how much longer he can last.

 

« Have you had dinner, my good sir? » She asks, pulling him out of his thoughts.

« I couldn't wander too far, but I got my hands on a squirrel or two. »

« ...How do they taste? »

 

Evidently, her curiosity got the better of her, but that's what he likes about her, she doesn't judge, she just wants to sleep smarter tonight.

 

« Their blood doesn't have much flavor, but it smells like chestnuts. » He chuckles.

« ...Surely mine doesn't taste like pastries. » She responds, to which he bursts out laughing.

Chapter 6: Priestess & Princess

« Your hunting license, please. » The city guard asks, his hand out as he bars the duo from crossing the city gate.

They've reached the first walled city of their trip, after waiting in line to be let in, they are met with a rather unexpected hurdle.

 

« Why do I need a hunting license now? » Boothill turns to Robin, one brow raised in confusion.

« I'm afraid I'm not sure... » She responds, and they turn their heads to the guard.

« No license, no guns within the city walls. » He explains.

« Oh. Uhh, hold up... » Boothill starts going through his pockets, and it takes a few seconds until he finds what he's looking for. « Will this do? I'm not from the Priestdom. »

He holds up the hunting certification he received when he was how old again? 14? At this point it's not much more than a crumbled piece of paper, but somehow it has never left his person even after all these years. The guard scrunches his nose as he observes it, dubious. He takes the paper to his colleague at the other side of the gate to get his opinion, then returns :

 

« Won't do. We'll be keeping your firearms. You can get them back once you get a valid license. You can get one at the city office. And if you don't want to, you can leave. »

« ...Don't have much of a choice with this damsel in tow. » He sighs and hands over his rifle and his gun, which the guard promptly takes away.
« My, I truly appreciate that you're willing to part from your precious weapons to stay by my side, my dear Benefactor. » Robin giggles as she teases him.
« Anything for your Highness. » He bows akin a knight to the princess of this holy land. He can then hear Robin's heart beating faster, certainly from the thrill of risking getting caught.

 

« We're stuck here for another week. » Boothill announce as he exits the office with an eye-roll never seen before, exasperated by the situation. « The test is in five days. Why do I even have to take one when they know damn well I'm a vampire? I wouldn't miss a shot even in my sleep. »

« It can't be helped, without a license we're going to keep running into the same issue... Yet, sir Boothill, I don't understand why you're going through such trouble only for my sake. Although I can't express my gratitude with words... Why? Why are you doing this for me?" Robin asks earnestly. « Introducing you to our jeweler--whom I pray to our Harmonious Goddess is still alive--cannot be equivalent exchange for everything you've done... »

« Don't think too hard about it, dove. I'm just taking responsibility for saving your life, no point in it if you're gonna drop dead the next minute, yeah? And you might not have realized, but a beautiful young winged lady by my side makes me a lot more approachable. Remember our first stop? You think those villagers would have let me in their midst had I been on my own? A big ol' scary vamp' like myself? »
« I suppose not...But still, » Robin reaches for his hand and hold it between her own, quickly glancing around to see if they are alone, « I promise I will find a way to pay it all back! Just wait till I become the queen, everything you have ever desired will be in the palm of your hand! » She declares with certainty.

« Hahaa, I like the sound of that. You best believe I'll hold you to your word, princess. »

 

Well, if they are going to stay for an entire week, might as well make the most of it. Robin spends her days doing what she does best, performing healings in the impoverished districts. Doctors have made themselves scarce in these parts in favor of more profitable opportunities in the richer areas, leaving the poor to fend for themselves. The only doctors left are barely in shape to work anymore. It's heart wrenching for Robin, who can only do so many healings in one day without passing out from exhaustion. When her legs give up on her in the evenings, it's Boothill who carries her to her room. In there, she cries, and cries, until she falls asleep, her resolve more firm than ever to rise to the throne.

 

Thus, five days come to pass, and Boothill obtains his license. He immediately retrieves his firearms and makes sure they're intact, and with that, they can depart for their next stop. Unfortunately for the vampire, they must travel under a bright sun, so bright that by nightfall he feels no different from a piece of roasted lamb.

 

« Hey princess, there wouldn't happen to be a pond or a lake around these parts, would there? » He asks as he peels off his various layers of clothing to bare his torso, and lays in the cool grass, the moon shining down on him.

 

Robin, who didn't expect that, obviously turns red. She tries to avert her gaze, yet succumbs to the eye candy before her.

 

« Like what you see, Robin Redbreast? » He teases when he catches her staring, flexing one of his biceps.

At his words, she turns her head away and huffs : « Have you no shame, stripping in front of a lady? » She crosses her arms defensively.

« I need to cool off for a while. Just count the stars if you don't want to look at my naked body. » He snorts, crossing his arms behind his head and closing his eyes to rest them. « You didn't answer my question though. I'm seriously not gonna last if we're going to travel under the sun like this. »

« Oh, uhm... We can try reaching a village before dawn? They'll surely lend some shade, at the very least. »

« Let's do that. We'll leave in an hour or so, rest up, princess. »

 

At sunrise, they reach a small village surrounded by farm land. Robin had been here before, a few years ago to offer healing and blessing. She's glad to see that their crops are growing abundantly. At this hour, there is but one young man outside, tending to his field. Robin calls out to him, interrupting his work, to inquire about the possibility of staying for a day. He acquiesces easily, to her surprise, and takes them to the village's leader, seemingly not alarmed at all by the vampire at her side. Perhaps he didn't notice? Her Benefactor wears his hat low on his head, afterall.

 

« Father, we've got some guests! Please come in. » He smiles, stepping aside for them.

« You let anybody into your house like this? » Boothill questions.

« Why wouldn't we? » Said father answers, entering the room, « We've received High Priestess Robin Oakwood's blessing, harm cannot befall our village anymore. »

« No wonder I'm starting to get a headache. » Boothill mutters, directed at her, for which she puffs in amusement.

« I thank you for your hospitality. Please let me know how I can be of use for the day. If anyone is in need of healing, I can provide that as well. I am a priestess. » She shows the Priest Cross she keeps in her pocket, away from Boothill's eyes most of the time.

« That would be great, why don't you let my son accompany you to make your round through the village? I'll borrow your...companion? here for some field work. »

« Oh, but--... » She stops herself and looks over at Boothill, worried the heat will be too much for him.

« Hah, how many years has it been since I tended to some crops? Throw whatever you've got at me, sir. I was raised on a farm. » He smirks, yet Robin can barely hide her confusion. She's never heard of farmer vampires, ever.

 

Robin comes back to the village chief's home in the evening, looking for Boothill who seems nowhere to be found. He must be out hunting for himself, she concludes. The sun was quite strong today as well, so she couldn't help but worry about him the whole time (even if she's fully aware he can take care of himself). For dinner, they've decided to throw a small party around a bonfire, that's what guests and nice weather call for!

 

Robin is helping the village chief's wife prepare the vegetables, when suddenly a scream pierces through the night. Everyone who heard it immediately runs to the source: the village barn. There is a frightened woman on the ground, shaking like a leaf as she points inside.

 

« I-inside, the-there's a...!! »

 

The villagers look at each other, and carefully, the chief's son comes forward to pry further open the door, and Robin steps forward, her cross and her prayers at a ready for whatever's coming. The chief follows with his lantern, and the light reveals the figure of a man squatting in the hay, feeding on a bloodied creature. Next to him, are two other carcasses, and blood is splattered everywhere.

 

Everybody gasps, scrambling to run away, except for Robin, who of course recognizes her Benefactor. But even she falters at the amount of blood everywhere. His face, his hands, his shirt, the ground at his feet. Her eyes meet his for a brief moment until he turns his face away, hiding from her.

« ...I'd like to eat in peace, if that's fine with everybody. » He sighs, dropping the third animal next to the two others. « I'd rather not be looked at. »

 

Utter shock reigns among the people, except for Robin, again.

 

« Oh, could you give us some privacy, please? » She asks the chief.

 

He commands for everyone to go back home, reassuring them that the situation is under control.

 

« What are you staying here for? Leave. » Boothill asks Robin, who sits on a haystack next to him.

« I'm worried about you, my dear Benefactor. I've never seen you make such a mess of yourself. Are you okay? »

« It's nothing. I got burnt and was in a hurry, that's all. » He wipes his face with his sleeve and faces her. That's when she sees that half of his face is still steaming from a slow recovery.

« You overdid it, didn't you? A vampire doing field work under a scorching sun, of course you'd get burnt... » She pouts. « What were you thinking? »

« ...Nevermind me, what about you? You alright, dove? »

« I'm fine. Tired, but fine. The villagers only had minor injuries or ailments. I'll recover with a good night's rest. -- Anyway, you really gave that lady a scare, I think it'd be appropriate to go and apologize. » She smiles, and Boothill picks himself up, still covered in blood. « ...Or perhaps that can wait until you've cleaned up. » She chuckles awkwardly. Boothill extends his hand to help her stand up, which she accepts, and together they exit the barn.

« Uhm...So! Who would be up for some roasted raccoon, tonight? » Robin offers to the remaining villagers, clasping her two hands together.

 

« Your Highness, » The chief's wife says in a quiet voice, as they are washing dishes together, alone in the house.

 

Robin inevitably freezes now that she's been caught, then, remembers there's nothing to be worried about here.

 

« I am most relieved to know that you are safe and sound. We were truly heartbroken when word of your passing spread. »

« So you knew...? I didn't think expect to get recognized, here I thought I had everyone fooled. » She laughs timidly.

« None of your subjects would ever forget Your Majesty's most compassionate heart and dazzling person, High Priestess Robin. » She pauses, wipes her hands and gently takes hold of one of Robin's. « Your Majesty the High Priestess, Princess Robin Oakwood, I pray that you reach the capital safely and put an end to the tyranny that has befallen our Priestdom. The people cannot entrust the throne to anyone but Your Highness. » She lowers herself to press her forehead to Robin's fingers, praying ardently.

 

Robin, unable to hold it in, bursts into tears.

 

« I promise!... » She cries, and she doesn't know what's taken over her, but perhaps it is because it is the first time she has ever heard from the mouth of her people say that they trust her, despite all of her family's crimes. « I promise... »

 

The mother hugs her, recognizing a child who is in need of comfort.

Chapter 7: Instinct & Innocence

They depart for the next leg of their trek with a horse and a wooden carriage, gifted by the villagers who all wanted their Princess to experience a safe journey to the capital. Robin was so touched by their gesture, she cried again as she waved her people goodbye.

 

Now, Boothill is teaching her how to direct the horse, so that they can switch out and get more rest. Especially the vampire, who can't fight the exhaustion anymore.

 

« Don't worry, even if I'm getting some shut-eye, I'll hear and sense any danger before you ever notice, so you're safe. » He reassures the noblelady, who, despite her motivation to take on every challenge that comes her way, can't hide her apprehension from him.

 

Then, he disappears under a sheet of sheepskin, hiding away from the sunrays. Robin, by her lonesome, hums a few tunes along the way, which lulls Boothill to sleep, a reminder of his youngest years.

 

« ...Boothill, sir Boothill! » Robin's voice echoes through his ears, and he immediately springs awake.

« What's wrong?! » He asks in a panic, the sheet tossed aside.

 

How deep had he fallen into slumber for him to need her to wake him up? Did he not sense the danger?

 

« N-nothing... I was just hoping we could pause for a moment...Uhm, because... » She trails off, blushing and avoiding his gaze.

« Oh, sure. »

 

He scans over the area and gives her the go-ahead. No threat in sight, so she can take care of her business in a bush a little away. Boothill, as usual, plugs his ears and turns to face the opposite way. They should be used to this by now, but this is the woman who's about to rule over the country we're talking about. She doesn't make a huge deal about much, but despite the weeks they've spent together, she can't get over the embarrassment, and whatever gets her blood pumping...Well, gets his blood pumping too, though she doesn't need to know that.

 

« I'll take over, get some rest now. » He announces once she returns.

« But you don't look well, you could rest some more my good sir... »

« Now now Princess, I bet your buttocks are too numb to feel anymore. Lay down some, the hay's comfortable. » He snickers.

« You--Just say you're concerned about my comfort, why word it such a way?! » She shouts, face red as a beet, which make him cackle, and they take off once more.

 

 

« If you connect those stars, there's my constellation, Taurus! » She smiles brightly.

 

Having set up camp in a grass field for the night, the winged and the vampire are now stargazing. They are laying side by side, and she points her dainty finger at the different, distant suns.

« What's yours, sir Boothill? »

« Gemini. »

« Oh, I'd say it suits you. » She giggles.

« Is that so? »

« Why, you didn't realize you turned into a completely different person once you familiarized yourself with me? »

« Did I now? » He turns his head to look at her.

« The vampire who saved me from the bottom of that cliff would have hardly attempted to steal my first kiss, I recon. » She looks back at him.

« What, never been kissed at your age? » He teases.

« I am the princess of the Priestdom, afterall. No one has ever dared touch anything but my gloved hand. » She brings her eyes up to the sky once more. « I've read about it in novels, yet I wonder what it truly feels like. »

« You love to test my patience, don't you? »

« Wha-- »

 

Before she can finish, Boothill is on top of her, pinning her beneath his body. Just like that drunken night, his face is inches away from hers, and she can feel his breath on her skin.

 

« I'll teach you what it feels like. To be kissed, ravaged, and sucked dry of your life in this empty field with only the moon as my witness, if that's what you want, Priestess. » He growls, brows furrowed in anger. « Or did you forget what you're dealing with? »

 

Now, she knows she should be scared, but her heart is racing, and that can only mean one thing.

 

Boothill can practically see where her blood is pooling, and upon realization, his eyes widen, he glances down her body, then locks eyes with her, speechless.

 

« You... »

 

Robin whimpers and turns her face away, covering her mouth with her hands and her eyes with her wings. She doesn't seem to realize she's exposing her slender neckline to him. Immediately, the vampire's mouth starts watering, desire and thirst surging within him.

 

It's pale, without a blemish. Her thin skin lets her veins peer through, inviting him to have a taste. The heat of her body enhances her scent. It's a delicacy unlike anything he's ever known before, she's been teasing him with it since the night he rescued her from the bottom of the cliff, and right now, she's not resisting in the slightest.

 

« I didn't mean to provoke you, my dear Benefactor... » Her whisper pulls him out of his trance.

 

She's peeking at him through her feathers, and when a drop of his saliva plops down on her collarbone, he scrambles to get off of her, falling backwards on his ass. He pants heavily as he wipes his mouth, staring at her. She sits up and gathers her knees together, holding his gaze. When the drop starts running down her chest, she wipes it with her sleeve. Her face is flushed, her hair is messy and her dress is too.

 

« M-my apologies princess, » He gets up and turns away, « I haven't had enough to eat it seems, I'll go hunt some more. You should sleep, now. »

 

 

After such an incident, the duo can't seem to find much to talk about. The tension is palpable. Boothill now has the confirmation that the virgin priestess desires him, and she knows he desires her, but it remains his responsibility to protect her. He cannot let his monstruous instincts win over whatever humanity he's got left. He turned into a vampire to avenge his daughter. He cannot harm this innocent winged because of his own choices.

 

« ...Uhm, sir Boothill? » Robin's small voice sounds.

« Hm? »

« If we take a detour to the west, we should find a small lake before nightfall. You asked for one a few nights ago, remember? »

« Sounds good... Gotta say, I'm impressed, it's like you know this country like the back of your hand, how'd you know where some random lake would be from here? »

« Oh, I've been travelling the land since my youth, afterall... » She smiles, « We often accompanied our father on his missions, my brother and I. Then, I took over my father's duties. It's been almost a decade at this point. Overall, I think I spend half the year outside the capital, the other half is for high society matters. »

« A decade? You getting worked to the bone since childhood? Little princess that you are? » « ...How young do you perceive me, my good sir? »

« ...You, you are of age, yeah? » He answers worriedly.

« Hmph. Surely I look more mature than a girl... Wait, you didn't try to kiss me thinking I was a girl, did you?! »

« Huh?! What do you take me for?! »

« Then how old are you?! Are you at an age where you should be running after anything younger than middle aged women? »

« I'm 33! Nobody's middle aged here! »

« O-oh. You're surprisingly young. »

« What, you think all vampires are hundred of years old? »

« ...You can't fault me for making such assumptions. They're always old in novels. »

« So. How old are you really, princess? »

« ...I'm 23. I'm a young lady, so there's nothing to concern yourself over, sir Boothill. »

 

 

« Ladies first. » Boothill offers now that the two of them have found the lake. It is tempting them to take a dip under the starry sky and refreshen from their travels.

« My dear Benefactor, I'd freeze to death if I bathed at night... Please, go on ahead. » She chuckles at his lack of consideration.

 

Indeed, how would he have known? Water must be just the perfect temperature for a vampire, Robin, on the other hand, would rather wait for sunlight to warm her skin once she'd be out of the water. So, she returns to sleep in the carriage, for that stack of hay is actually quite comfortable, she finds. Behind her, she can hear the sound of Boothill stepping into the lake, and he lets out a relieved exhale.

 

« Hey, princess, have you ever bathed under the moonlight? » He calls, and she turns her head to see his naked torso, shining in the night.

 

He's ghostly, in the sea of darkness, and he's the only thing she can really distinguish, for the light of their campfire cannot reach far enough towards the lake.

 

« I have not. Tell me, my good sir, how does it feel? »

« Heavenly...! » He coughs, his throat probably burnt, and she cannot help but laugh.

« It must be truly divine if that's the only word you find to describe it. Are you okay, sir Boothill? »

« I'll get used to it eventually, I'm fine... You sure you don't wanna join me, dove? » He tosses, the smirk on his face evident.

« Is such your desire, sir Boothill of the far west? »

« Why, I'm only trying to share the pleasure. »

« Goodnight to you, Benefactor. » She smiles and turns to lie down. Hopefully her dreams won't be full of sin, tonight.

« Goodnight, princess. »

Chapter 8: Fantasies & Fights

Boothill has to admit, at some point, that Robin's holiness is wearing him down. It feels as if no matter how much he drinks or sleeps, he remains tired, his body feels heavy, and he can barely form a proper thought. He thought it was the sun, but even today as the sky is grey and it seems rain will fall at any minute, he needs to stay under as many layers as possible.

 

And he's hungry, he's so hungry. He wants her blood, and he wants her virginity. He's sure that will solve any issue going forward. She's simply so appetizing, he wants her blood to be the first of a human's he drinks, yet he already knows that will spoil all of his meals in the future, for he will keep craving her taste until the end of his days. His fantasizing has to be put on hold for now though.

 

« We're not alone, princess. Stay sharp. » He murmurs to Robin's ear, readying his rifle.

 

A group of men, who look like the definition of petty bandits, come out of the bushes, onto the road, and block their way. There are two tall muscular ones, and one small round one, all waving worn-out swords around.

 

« My my my, looks like we have a couple of merchants here. Unfortunately you're on Oak family territory, and you're gonna have to pay the toll fee. » The small one announces.

 

At the scene before them, the priestess and the vampire exchange a stare, before they both burst into laughter, unable to keep it in. Boothill promptly puts his firearm away, evidently no bullets will be wasted today.

 

« Hey hey hey now, you lovebirds think this is some kinda joke? C'mon, cough up the money! »

 

As if on cue, the muscleheads behind him start cracking their knuckles, getting ready for a fight.

 

« We don't wanna have to get rough with ya! »

« Buncha goons. You don't know how to pick your opponents. »

 

Had those bandits listened, they wouldn't have found themselves face down ass up in the bushes. Boothill had made quick work of them and the traveling companions are once again on their merry way.

 

« My dear Benefactor, you save my life once more. Thank you. » Robin giggles.

« You weren't scared for even a second, were you? »

« With sir Boothill by my side, I find little to be afraid of. »

« Getting comfortable, are we? I'll let you do the fighting next time. »

« ...Oh, my apologies, I've certainly begun to take you for granted I realize...I beg your forgiveness, my good sir. Please hear again how grateful I am for everything you do for me. »

« I'm just messing with you, princess. Leave the heavy lifting to me. So long as you can help me find any lead at all, that'll be enough. »

« I will not break my promise. You have my word. »

Chapter 9: Bishops & Bedrooms

By the next noon, they finally reach the grand gates of Edge City. The filtering takes a long time, but thanks to the hunting license Boothill had previously obtained, they are let in without issue... Or so they wish.

 

It turns out, that because of these times of instability, monster species are now barred from entering. They've got enough on their plates with rebelling civilians already, apparently.

 

« Please, is there no way for you to make an exception? I'm a priestess of this Priestdom, I can vouch for his good character! He has been protecting me on my travels to offer blessings all over our land. » Robin insists, showing her Priest Cross to prove her words.

« You still think being a priestess grants you privilege? The Pope is about to be executed, and you're on his side. Open your eyes! » The city guard laughs.

« ...What? » Robin freezes, her hands dropping to her sides.

« You lot could probably get arrested within the week for all we know. Maybe we should book you in now and save us the trouble of looking for you later. How about that, priestess? »" He threatens mockingly, tapping his spear on his shoulder armor.

« What did you...What do you mean? »

« We don't know how deep the corruption goes, once Pope Oakwood is dead, they're gonna have to get weed out all of it. » He goes on, shaking his head and shrugging his shoulders.

« Father is... Father is getting executed? »

 

« Robin. » Boothill places his hand on her shoulder.

 

He realizes the gravity of the situation, as Robin's blood had drained from her face. She stood unresponsive for a few seconds, but upon his call, she snaps out of it. She seems to immediately pull herself together, the expression on her face grave.

 

« I have no time to waste. Guard, take me to the City Knights' branch office at once. »

« Huh? And why should I do that, young lady? » He crosses his arms nonchalantly, and Robin's jaw clenches, then her hand reaches into her bag.

 

Boothill knows she's about to do something very risky right now, and as expected, she pulls out the crown that she seems to hate so. She's called it useless in the past, but perhaps it will reveal itself useful now. Boothill immediately stands on her other side, hiding it from the view of their surroundings.

 

« For I am The High Priestess, Princess Robin Oakwood of the Priestdom of Oak. » She declares, her head high, her posture straight and her voice commanding.

 

The guard is no fool, and stands at attention, probably regretting all of his life choices that led him to this moment. Nevermind the Pope, his head is definitely next in line with the incredible disrespect he showed her majesty just now. So he begs for her forgiveness about a thousand times, and does as he's told.

 

Of course, when Robin bursts into the City Knight's office, all heads whip in her direction.

 

« Knights of Edge City, take me to Bishop Gallagher at once! » She practically shouts, putting her crown on her head to dispel any doubt as to who they are in the presence of.

 

Upon realization, they immediately jump on their feet and gather around her. Their first reactions are to celebrate her arrival, and thank the Harmonious Goddess for her well-being.

 

« Please, brave knights. We have no time to waste, I must reach the capital as soon as possible. Tell me Bishop Gallagher is here. »

« Your Highness, what is the rush? » A voice from atop the stairs sounds, and down comes the bishop.

 

He greets the High Priestess with a knee to the floor and his hand on his heart.

 

« Sir Gallagher, I just learned of my father's imminent execution. Is it the truth? Tell me what you know. »

« High Priestess Oakwood, I am afraid it is true, but it is not yet imminent. » He stands back up, and he seems to be the first one to notice the tall, imposing figure that has been standing behind Robin all along. He only spares him a glance. « So, you may rest assured for now. Please, follow me to my office. We have much to talk about.

 

Why Boothill follows them inside, when the whole situation has nothing to do with him, he doesn't know. Perhaps it's his possessive instinct kicking in, seeing as the bishop is no human. Do they know? Does he keep it a secret? In any case, he doesn't want to leave Robin alone with something like that. So, he sits on the same couch as the princess of this land, the bishop on the opposite side.

 

Evidently, when he reveals his vampiric features, the man is obligated to acknowledge his presence, especially if he wants answers as to why he's accompanying their High Priestess. Robin explains the trials and tribulations of her travels since the beginning, and from how much she's sharing, it's evident that she trusts this bishop.

 

« I understand the situation, your highness. Then, as I said, Pope Oakwood, as well as your dear brother Cardinal Oakwood, are currently imprisoned in the palace gallows. Discussion amongst the cardinals and archbishops are currently ongoing as to whether Cardinal Oakwood should be executed along your father. Though, your father's execution date has not been set in stone yet, as the investigation is still ongoing. However, it appears a faction of cardinals are pushing for his execution to be moved ahead already, using the populace's growing impatience as justification. »

« ...I assume they are being investigated as well. »

« Indeed, the capital's intelligence guild is not leaving a single stone unturned. »

« Good, but ridding the Priestdom of a few dozen rotten apples isn't going to appease the masses, and much less overhaul the system... The cardinals are evidently fighting for the throne, and with rumors of my return, they know they cannot waste any more time. This means we cannot afford to waste any more time either. Sir Gallagher, gather your knights, we must depart at once. » « We will depart tomorrow at dawn. Please, take these remaining hours to rest, your highness. »

 

 

The vampire and the priestess are invited to stay at the bishop's home for the day. It is a modest two-storied mansion, managed by two servants.

 

After a meal filled with nothing but vegetables as per Robin's request (understand that out in the wild, salad and tomatoes are much harder to come by than critter and fowl), she immediately jumps into a bathtub filled with hot water, washing her skin and her hair with the sweetly-scented oils she had missed so. She sighs in relief and hums her favorite songs, basking in the warmth.

 

« Oh, Sir Boothill, if you can hear me from all the way over there, know that you are about to experience the best bath of your life so far. Ah, how truly heavenly it is to rinse myself of all this grime! »

« Sure, whenever you'll let me have my turn, princess. » He answers from right outside the door, which makes her scream in surprise.

« Wha-what are you doing, standing right outside the bathroom?! Were you listening in on me? How perverted! »

« I was only passing through the hallway when you called my name... Perhaps it's your imagination running wild, princess. » He snorts, and her face turns red. « Anyway, while I'm here, can we talk for a second? »

« Can it not wait? You know I'm in the middle of my bath... »

« It's about that bishop guy. What do you know about him? »

« What do I know...? Well, I've known of him since my Divination Ceremony, where I earned my title as High Priestess. As the daughter of the Pope, no official of the Priestdom missed the ceremony, and he stood out for being a commoner, he has taught me quite a bit over the years, to better understand my subjects. »

« So you've known him for a while... Then tell me, dove, do you know he's not human? »

« ...I see. » She pauses, and sighs, « I understand the cause for this nagging sensation I've always felt in his presence, now. »

« And let me tell you one more thing, this house doesn't give me any headache. »

 

 

The two servants seem to be having a field day taking care of the princess, pampering her, restoring her chipped nails, brushing her hair and her wings to their original luster and dressing her up in a new outfit that was bought just for her, while the rest of her clothes --and per extension Boothill's-- are getting washed and dried. Boothill is not afforded the same attention, but is given a change of clothes lest they want him prancing about naked in the mansion.

 

He has to admit, he feels alive again, he can rest in an almost fully blacked out room where there's no saintly aura constantly weighing over him. No headache, no irritation to his eyes or his skin, nothing... If only he couldn't smell Robin's delicious scent from across the mansion.

 

It's sweet, delicate, fruity, and he knows just how juicy she would be if he took a bite. How her blood would burst out and beg him to drink ever last drop she has to offer. If only he could have a bite, just a bite, just a taste of her, just a taste of her innocent, naive, untainted blood, and her lips, and her body, and her flaming hot skin as she trembles beneath him, begging for him, drunk on his aphrodisiac, moaning in pleasure, crying out his name, or Benefactor, or good sir, or whatever.

 

« Sir Boothill? » She calls his name, and his hand stops it's motions. Was it fantasy or reality? He turns his head to the door, where the light peering through at the bottom is cut off by a figure. So she's really there.

« Fuck... »

 

He doesn't answer the door, so she doesn't insist. She wanted to talk more in depth about the conversation they had started when she was bathing, but it can wait.

 

If he's sleeping, it's best to let him, afterall. It's not as if she hadn't noticed that he seems to be needing more and more sleep as the days go by, and she's sure it's her fault. When she had asked him about it the first week, he said he's fine going several days without rest, yet on their way to Edge City, she had done most of the driving, and him most of the sleeping.

 

 

« You're looking quite the princess now, eh? » Boothill compliments Robin, as they meet face to face in the dining room.

 

Her hair had found it's natural color again, and it was half done up in her signature bun. Gallagher won't be joining them for dinner, one of the servants explains, as he's busy with the preparations. Robin is served a hearty meal that the cook evidently put a lot of care into, as for Boothill, he is given three wine glasses of pheasant, chicken and duck blood. It amuses her to imagine the cook trying to figure out how to best serve dinner to a vampire.

 

« What's got you smiling, dove? » Boothill asks, a brow raised.

« Oh, nothing, my dear benefactor. I hope the drinks are to your taste. » She giggles.

« I'm not picky. » He laughs.

« On another note, sir Boothill, my sincerest apologies for disturbing your sleep earlier. I wouldn't have knocked if I had known. »

« Oh, uh, you didn't wake me up though. I slept like a baby. »

« Is that so...? I heard you grunting, so I thought for sure... »

« I guess I snore when I'm tired. » He downs one of the drinks, looking away from her.

 

 

At nightfall, the bishop comes home, and the three of them go over the plan together. With a great number of city knights progressively joining them on the way, it will take three days to reach The Golden City, the capital of the Priestdom, where Robin will lay claim over the empty throne.

 

Gallagher has already sent knights to spread rumors of her well-being to the capital. It is a risky move, but the populace must be aware, for they will pressure the cardinals into ceasing their dispute over the crown, or be beheaded for treason if they attempt to usurp it upon Robin's arrival. Of course, this means assassins will be sent after her once more, hence everybody involved will don the same cloaks, hiding their heads at all times, and move about in different groups at set intervals.

 

« Very well. Let's call it a night. May you sleep well, your highness. » Gallagher bows, and they each head to their respective rooms.

 

 

Boothill would have fallen asleep already, but he's been hearing Robin sobbing in her bed for an hour at this point. Perhaps he should pay her a visit and give her a few words of comfort, but he doesn't want to get caught sneaking into her room and create misunderstandings, she is a princess, afterall...Maybe he can try another way.

 

He jumps from his balcony to hers, landing quietly, and knocks on the window.

 

« Hey, Robin? » He calls in a whisper, and her weeping stops, then he hears the rustling sound of fabrics, then her steps approach the window, and finally she draws the curtains open.

 

The moonlight shines on her delicate features, revealing a pair of glistening, watery pupils.

 

« Sir Boothill... » She wipes at her red eyes, seemingly surprised to see him, and embarrassed as well. « What can I help you with at this hour? » She asks when she opens the window, she's in a long, silky white nightgown. He doesn't let his eyes linger for long.

« I don't need anything, it's just... » He leans back against the railing. « "You've been crying for a while now, so I thought I might check up on you. »

« Ah, you could hear me... Of course, my apologies. I-...I'll be fine in the morning, please don't concern yourself over me. »

« Come on, why don't you spill it? I'm here to lend an ear, if it's any help. » He half smiles, crossing an ankle over the other and making himself comfortable in that spot.

« But I-... But I can't... I'm-- » Her lips tremble, holding her hands to her chest, her fists clenching at her gown.

« It's about your father, right? » He guesses, and her fists tighten. He's right. « You must be worried sick about him, and your brother. »

« I... » She sniffles, hiccups, and sobs. « I am... I know they must pay for their despicable and unforgivable crimes, but they're my family regardless... It's not as if I could suddenly stop loving them! Yet I know keeping them alive would be far too selfish of me...If-...If only I hadn't been so ignorant and oblivious to their tyranny--...! »

« Hey, hey...Don't blame yourself, dove. » He reaches his hand out, and pats her head gently, combing his fingers through her hair to soothe her. « You didn't know, you can't change the past, but you're on your way to correct their wrongs. You're going to do right by your people. »

« Am I?... »

« You bet you are. That's what you decided to do. »

 

 

No further crying was heard that night, and Boothill sleeps soundly. For once, it isn't a nightmare, he's just washing his daughter and putting her to sleep, humming the lullaby his mom hummed to him. It doesn't last, he is rudely ripped away from his beloved child as the servants awake everybody. Unlike the young princess, he doesn't have any tears left to cry, so he can only sigh.

 

So, he gets ready, and awaits their departure. From the balcony, he observes the movements on the streets, knights are gathering horses and rations, several carriages are being loaded. One of them will be for Robin (and him, by extension). When Robin starts praying alone in her bedroom, he exits the mansion and goes to help with the last minute preparations. Then, the sun begins to rise over the horizon, and Boothill, who can't look at it, instead looks at the priestess who is joining everybody, hidden beneath her cloak, and the smile on her lips as she greets him.

« Good morning, sir Boothill. Thank you for last night. »

« Don't sweat it, dove. Ready for the last stretch of your journey? »

« I suppose I've just been a detour for your own journey. Thank you for putting up with my selfishness. »

« Once Queen, I guess you won't get to be selfish no more. You can have this much. » He smirks, and extends his hand to help her step up into her carriage.

Chapter 10: Cries & Carriages

Robin, Boothill and a few knights are sitting together all a bit cramped in this carriage, except for the princess, who's given adequate space from all these burly men. A silence reigns among them, and everybody seems quite nervous, so she decides to break the ice, by doing a round of introductions.

 

« I'm Robin, » She starts, « I'm 23, and I enjoy music, singing and dancing. It's a pleasure to make everybody's acquaintance. » She smiles brightly, introducing herself as if nobody had heard about her before, to start off on a humorous touch.

 

They all play along, whether young or old, into crafting or hunting, and conversations pick up in the carriage, to the point of almost getting boisterous. That is until it's the vampire's turn to introduce himself. Since the beginning, he has felt animosity emanating from these knights. They are very suspicious of him, to say the least. Everybody falls silent to stare down this monster.

 

« ...Boothill. Hunter. I play the guitar and the harmonica. »

« The harmonica? I certainly know of guitars, but I've never heard of an instrument such as a harmonica. » Robin lights up, « What is it like? »

« A little piece of gold. » He has a smug look on his face, and digs into his inner pocket to pull out a small metallic and rectangle contraption.

« Is that it? Is that an instrument? So little it fits in your hand? What sound does it make? » Her eyes sparkle at the discovery. « Why have you never shown this to me before?! »

« It never came up in coversation. » He shrugs his shoulders, « Now I don't know if your majesty the princess will know how to appreciate it, but I'll give you a taste of my homeland. » He teases her, not without earning the piercing glares of the knights around, and leans back, taking in a breath before starting.

 

Robin is discovering a whole new world, it feels like. Indeed she's never heard such musicality before, as cultured in the arts as she may be. She's gasping and clasping her hands together as she listens. It's vibrant, it's unclear, the notes are getting mixed together, yet she can tell he's playing with much expertise, from the movement of his hands and the control of his breath, and the result is a delight to her ears.

 

« It's incredible! » She praises excitedly when he finishes a song, « Please, one more time, my good sir! »

« Nah, I think that'll do for now... » He tilts his head towards the knights, reminding her that they're not alone. One of them coughs, and Robin blushes.

« Oh dear... After so long acting as I please, it would appear I have forgotten all etiquette. »

« ...Please, your majesty, feel free do as your heart desires. Your happiness is our happiness. » The oldest of the knights amongst them smiles, his hand to his heart as he bows his head.

 

She's embarrassed, yet grateful for his reassuring words. For her last days a young princess with no responsibilities, she's allowed to be a little selfish, a little childish, and enjoy herself.

 

« If her majesty wants to hear more of this ha-...harmonica, it is a subject's duty to fulfill her wishes! » Another interjects, younger and evidently very nervous to be in the presence of the princess.

« I wonder why it is called harmonica, when it does not originate from our harmonious land... » A third, more erudite knight ponders.

« Has our Harmonious Goddess gazed upon a vampire's homeland that we do not know of? » A fourth theorizes.

« ...Guess I have no choice but to play some feisty tunes now. » Boothill laughs, meeting Robin's eyes with complicity, and starts playing again.

 

 

Two days go by without a hitch. The knights are warming up to the monster, who's not that much of a monster afterall. Some do remain suspicious, as they can only conclude he's clinging to the princess for no other reason than her blood, but they cannot voice their concerns, lest they make a fool of their Queen-to-be. She's young, but not so naive as to think a vampire would not thirst for her, afterall.

 

Before nightfall, they put up tents and get campfires started. After supper, it doesn't take long for the tired knights to find slumber. A few stay up to stand guard, along with Boothill.

 

When everybody seems asleep, Robin ever so softly calls for Boothill. She has a request, an utterly selfish one, she knows, but it bothers her too much.

 

« ...You want to bathe? Seriously? »

« R-regardless of my current disposition I'm still a princess...Surely you understand the implications! » She insists, « I'm a hundred percent sure there's a pond to the east just a little away. Please stand guard for me, my dear benefactor. »

 

...So, he has no choice but to oblige. Next thing he knows, she is naked in that pond while he has to keep watch the opposite way.

« Didn't you say last time you'd freeze to death if you bathed at night? What's with the change of heart? » He teases.

« The campfires will warm me. I still do not enjoy cold baths. » She huffs, and he chuckles.

« Let me guess, you never played in the river as a kid. »

« Did you, my good sir? »

« Sure did, all year round. Those were the good times... Now there's nobody to play in the water with. »

« I suppose you can't play in the water with a young maiden. »

« How many times must I threaten you for you to watch your words, dove?... » He sighs, shaking his head. « You're a mystery. What gives you the confidence to openly flirt with a guy like me? »

« Perhaps just as you openly flirt with the princess of this land. » She retorts with a giggle, to which he puffs in amusement.

« You trust me too much. »

 

 

The sun rises on the last day of their voyage, Boothill, who has fulfilled his duty for the night, can hide in the carriage to rest. Soon, Robin joins him.

 

« Good morning, my dear benefactor. » She smiles, seemingly shy, for some reason, compared to last night when she had brazenly undressed behind him--Wait, now's not the time for such thoughts.

« Managed to get some shut-eye, or were you too full of anticipation to get home? »

« Ah...Truthfully, it's more apprehension, I'd say. It's inevitable that not everything will go according to plan, I am prepared for that, yet I've been so nervous since I awoke. Something is wrong... I hope my prayers have been heard by our Harmonious Goddess. » She clutches her hands at her stomach, worry written all over her face.

« Don't worry so much. No matter what happens, I'll protect you. »

« Thank you, sir Boothill. Then, I will rely on you just a little longer. »

« Bishop Gallagher! Bishop Gallagher! » A distressed voice shouts in the distance, carried by a galloping horse. Boothill immediately exits the carriage to check on the situation. A city knight is closing in on their encampment, and he has very bad news.

 

« M-my father...is....what? »

 

The bishop needs not repeat himself. Robin collapses onto her knees, her arms limp at her sides. The Pope was found dead, in the night. The cause of his death is unclear. Everybody stands still, stunned in silence, utterly blindsided by the news.

 

The skies are clear, the wind is fresh, leaves are rustling and birds are chirping. It's a beautiful morning on all accounts. The people of the Priestdom can gather and celebrate the fall of the tyrant, Pope Oakwood. Indeed, farmhands can throw their hats in the air, children can dance without a care! How much alcohol will be spilled today? For such a joyous occasion, the people must celebrate! Celebrate! Celebrate!

 

Yet in this quiet forest, amongst the birds and the rustling leaves, are heard the cries of a young lady. They're soft, almost inaudible, for she cannot openly cry for a tyrant, but tears are running down her cheeks, her body is overtaken with tremors, and from her lips the name 'father' falls off.

 

« Take her to the carriage. » Gallagher whispers to Boothill.

 

As the Queen-to-be, she cannot be seen in this state a minute longer. So, the vampire, gentle in his gestures, helps her stand up, and guides her away from the city knights' eyes. Inside, her strength fails her, and she drops to the floor. She cries into her hands, and Boothill, who is standing behind her, and cannot comfort her this time, turns to leave. However, a tug at the hem of his cloak stops him.

 

« Don't go...! »

 

So he stays, and crouches down to her level. She leans her head against his chest, and sobs into his shirt, clinging to his coat. He gently strokes her hair, like he did the other night, like he used to stroke his daughter's hair way back in the day, like his parents used to.

 

Even when the carriage departs, they are in the same position, for her tears don't stop flowing, until a bump on the road makes them stumble and fall. Boothill knocks his head pretty hard against the edge of the seats, cutting his forehead open.

 

« Fucking hell! » He curses in pain, a hand to the wound.

« Are you okay?! » Robin gasps, reaching for it as well.

 

That's when he sees her face, her eyes red and puffy, streaks of tears down to her chin and snot running from her nose. They're staring at each other for a second before blood starts getting into his eye, which makes Robin panic and try to start healing him, which makes him panic and shout.

 

« Woah there princess! You're trying to kill me?! »

« I'm--! I'm sorry... I acted on instinct... » She backs off, pouting.

« ...I know, my bad. I'll be fine, it's gonna close on it's own, give it a minute. »

« We need to wipe all that blood. Ah, but I don't have anything akin a handkerchief on my person... »

« Don't worry about it. » He takes off his outer layers so he can access the sleeve of his shirt, using that to wipe at his bleeding cut. « You should wipe your own face. I've never seen so much snot since the last time my kid scraped her knee. »

 

« ...Kid? Y-you have a child, sir Boothill? » Robin's eyes go wide as she stops wiping her face. « You're married?! » She gasps, then immediately covers her mouth.

 

She hadn't meant to shout. Boothill, who doesn't seem to know how to react, turns his face away. He sighs and gets up, helping her up as well before sitting down on the built-in bench.

 

« Sir Boothill...? » She realizes it's a delicate subject, from his sudden change in attitude.

 

He's different from usual, whether it be his brooding, aloof persona, or what she assumes is his real self, the fun and flirty guy he lets out every now and then. No, his expression is so pained, his jaw is clenched tight, as if he's trying so hard to keep something from spilling out. It's something he doesn't want to share.

 

« I don't. I don't no more. » He says, almost too quietly for her to catch, as if he had to keep his voice from breaking, and Robin immediately understands.

« ...My...My most sincere condolences. » Is all she can respond. « Oh... » Her tears start flowing again, and she holds Boothill's hand tightly. « I'm sorry... »

« No, I am...Now's not the time to go laying this on you. » He reaches with his clean sleeve to wipe those tears of hers. « My most sincere condolences to you, Robin. »

« Thank you, sir Boothill... »

 

They sit in silence, as she manages to calm her broken heart after a while. Then, she realizes she's still holding onto his hand, so she lets go, even if she doesn't want to.

 

« ...Hey, would you tell me about your dad? Cause all I know ain't that pretty, but surely you've got some fond memories, or something...? »

 

 

Thus, she recounts the good times she keeps in her heart, such as the days he would play the piano with her, or when they went shopping for the first time, he bought her this beautiful bedazzled blue dress that she wore until she couldn't fit into it anymore. There were also the times he read her bedtime stories, and the games of hide and seek he indulged them with.

 

« ...He truly was a good father those few years of my childhood, but at some point he took no time to spare for me anymore... Even then, he took us two orphans into his arms and hugged us with love and empathy. So, I remain eternally grateful for the life of comfort he provided me all those years. »

 

« Orphans? You were adopted? » Boothill raises a brow.

« Ah, yes...My mother passed away after an epidemic struck our town. We were taken in by Father shortly after. » She explains.

« Who'd have thought that's what we'd have in common. I was adopted too. My parents found me in their barn one day. » He smiles.

« ...We couldn't be more different than the sky and the earth, but as expected, we meet on the horizon line. » She answers his smile with a grin.

« Guess you and I are both orphans again, eh? »

« You parents have passed? »

« Along with my daughter. » He nods.

« ...What of your wife? »

« Never had one. I found my daughter in the family barn too. » He laughs quietly.

« Oh... I see. » She feels relieved, and her cheeks blush when she realizes why.

« You thought I was some scumbag who hits on young ladies while I have a wife and kid waiting for me back home? You break my heart, princess. »

« No! I-I--...I thought I was the one gravely misreading our interactions. » She admits, her face red as a beet now.

 

Chapter 11: Gates & Guards

« Your highness, we will arrive in The Golden City shortly! » The knight riding the carriage announces.

 

It is early in the evening, and the sun still shines bright, as if waiting for Robin to burst through the main gate before it can start to set. However, something isn't right.

 

« No assassins have come after us at any point. That means they'll be inside the city, awaiting our arrival. » Gallagher theorizes, as he sits with the priestess and the vampire.

« If they're ready to assassinate their princess in plain sight, then we can't just go waltzing in there all together. » Boothill notes.

« Which is why her highness will enter the city through the sewers, the rest of us will come in through the main gate under the clamor of the populace. » Gallagher continues. « The sewers lead up until the cathedral, after that point you will have to reach the palace as quickly as possible. With the Royal Knights on the lookout, no unwelcome intruder can infiltrate the domain. That is the only place you will be safe. »

« ...No, the cathedral won't do. Sir Boothill can't accompany me there. »

« We can exit the sewers earlier than that. I can just carry you all the way to the palace. It'll take a minute tops. »

« Then I will rely on you again, my dear Benefactor. »

« I pray for your safety, your highness. » The bishop concludes.

 

While the largest group is grabbing the attention of the people at the main gate, Robin and Boothill's group run for the sewers. She never thought she'd ever even glance in it's direction, much less engulf herself into it's maze-like tunnels. Boothill's nose is rendered useless due to the stentch, but his other senses make up for it just fine. After he's done scouting ahead to make sure they're alone in there, they advance without much difficulty to their destination.

 

The sun must have fallen by the time they separate. When Boothill can't take it anymore, Robin and him get back up above ground, while the rest of the group keeps going for the cathedral. The goal is to confuse potential traitors amongst the crowd as best as possible, whether they might be on the streets or amongst the clergy. The duo find themselves in an empty street of the high class. Obviously, Boothill doesn't know his way around, but even Robin seems lost.

 

« Then there's only one solution. » Boothill smirks, nodding his chin upwards.

« ...You don't mean-- »

« I sure do, dove. » He laughs and picks her up bridal style.

 

She gasps and immediately wraps her arms around his neck, bracing herself what's coming next. Indeed, Boothill jumps. He jumps up so high he lands on the rooftop of one of the apartment buildings, Robin squealing into his chest all the while.

 

« This place's got quite the view. Take a look, princess. »

 

She opens her eyes to see the city in it's nighttime. There are bright lights scattered all over the rooftops, coming from the streets. The Golden City doesn't sleep, indeed, especially not with the return of their princess. They can hear the far-away clamor, and Robin feels guilty for not showing herself to the people who love her so much. They must be disappointed and doubtful that she's even home. But she is, almost.

 

« The palace is up on this hill, sir Boothill, behind the cathedral you can see there. » She points to the north.

« Then hold on tight, cause here we go! »

 

As he jumps from rooftop to rooftop, Robin clings as tightly as possible. After a moment, she's brave enough to open her eyes, and behind Boothill's shoulder, she admires the view on the city. This is just one of the many cities she will govern as queen, within the next few weeks.

 

Soon enough, Boothill lands on the ground, and runs full speed towards their destination. Their surroundings are nothing but a blur flashing by, and before she knows it, they are far away from any building, nothing but the palace's vast domain ahead.

 

« The gate is guarded. They're all clad in silver, blue and yellow armor. » Boothill describes.

« They're the royal knights! We're safe now. » She rejoices.

 

The vampire slows down to a gradual stop, and gently lets Robin's feet down on the ground. As they are the only two figures to be seen around, they quickly catch the knights' attention. Robin scurries towards them, Boothill right on her heel.

 

« Who goes there?! » One of the guards shouts, and they all have their weapons at the ready.

« My knights, it's me! » She pulls her hood off to reveal her face, « Princess Robin Oakwood. I have safely returned. »

 

Then a shot is heard, but even Boothill can't stop a bullet.

Chapter 12: Hurt & Healing

She doesn't understand. She doesn't understand why, but Boothill has blood all over his face and cloak, and his eyes are shining red as he stands, frozen in place, while she crashes to the ground.

 

She doesn't understand why the voices that seem to be screaming around her all sound so muffled. She is being surrounded by the armors, the knights, but she doesn't understand why.

 

She doesn't understand why the man she loves is lunging at her, his mouth wide agape. He pushes her knights away and grabs at her clothes, tearing them open, and it seems he's about to kiss her neck, or bite it. Right, he would bite it.

 

But before he can, a spear pierces through his head. They make eye-contact, and she tries to call his name, but all that comes out of her throat is blood, and it's splattering in his face. She tries to reach for him, but he collapses, his face shoved into the sand and stones.

 

Yet his hand extends towards her, and she holds it. She holds it as tight as she possibly can, but he is torn away from her. Why is he being taken away when she needs him? She needs him. She needs him, she needs his saving. She needs him to save her like he did back then. She's not the queen yet, she can be a little selfish and rely on him still.

Can't she? Can't she rely on the man she loves? When she loves him so much? She loves him so much.

 

She loves him.

 

She blinks, and he's gone. Where is he? Where is she? It's so bright, but how? The moon had just shown itself, she is being blinded by this white light. What is it? She blinks again, and once more. Ah, she's not outside anymore. She's, yes, in her bed. She recognizes now, her veiled canopy and it's delicate embroidery.

 

« Sir Boothill? » Her lips read, but no sound passes through.

 

She sticks her hand out somewhere, he will find it, and hold it. Won't he? But the hand that holds hers is much thinner, warmer. She looks to the side, and there are the many faces of her servants and knights. They're surrounding her bed, all of their hands gathered in prayer.

 

« Your highness! » Daisy, her lady-in-waiting, who's holding her hand, exclaims, tears welling at her eyes. « Oh thank you, our Harmonious Goddess! Doctor, doctor! »

 

All heads lift from their prayers to look at her, and expressions of joy are painted on their faces. The Court Doctor runs to join her side and begins to analyze her. She tries to sit up to greet her people more properly, but she can't.

 

« Please, don't attempt to move, your highness. Your highness, do you recongize me? » He asks, observing her up close.

 

She nods, or tries to, but a searing pain, worse than anything she's ever felt in her life, shoots through her neck. Ah, she understands now. She had been shot.

 

« Sir Boothill? » She asks, or wishes to, for again, no sound passes through.

 

Why? Right, because she had been shot. Then why isn't he by her side? Where is he? Where is he when she needs his comfort? He was there the last time. He had smiled as he stroked her head, and his magic touch had stopped her tears. Won't he comfort her again? Oh, Harmonious Goddess, please. Please let her see him again. She has to make sure he's okay. She has to make sure he's alive. Oh please, let him live. Let him live.

 

 

It takes her seven days and seven nights to be able to walk again. With so little strength in her body, the healing process had been long and arduous. The doctors were talented, the healing prayers masterful, yet they would drain her energy, so they couldn't overdo it, and carefully monitored her condition.

 

Even now, her voice remains weak, no louder than a whisper. So she cannot show herself to her people, and reassure them that she is well. Her throat wasn't the only part of her body that had needed healing, she had only realized it afterwards, but the bones in her hand had been crushed to pieces. Indeed, her benefactor had done it. It hadn't taken long to come to the realization, that, far from trying to protect her, he had attacked her, his lucidity and all reason lost the moment her blood had splattered in his face.

 

She does not blame him, however, and she wants to see him. So desperately. She knows he is alive, and she knows he is kept in the dungeon of the palace. The bishop had reassured her of that. Her benefactor is so close by. Yet her guards, her servants, her knights, everybody in this place, vehemently refuses to let her see him. It's only natural, he's a monster who tried to kill her. They believe her still crazed from the events and insist that she keeps resting, but she feels restless without Boothill by her side.

 

 

During the day, he burns his skin to a crisp with the sunlight that peers through the hole in the wall, intentionally. At night, he hunts the rats passing by his cell. The guards give him a single piece of bread each day, but he cannot eat it, so those rodents walk into his trap. They believe a feast is sitting on the ground just for them, but before they know it, they are caught and their necks are snapped in two. They taste of nothing and smell disgusting. Everything around him smells disgusting.

 

He wants out of this place as soon as possible. He could leave, he could. Yet he doesn't. Because he knows he would run to her. He would run to her and attack her. He wants to. He wants her. He wants her blood. So he stays in this dirty cell, and burns himself to keep his wits about him, to punish himself, to curb his urges. When that isn't enough, he pulls his nails off. They grow back fast enough that it keeps him occupied until sunrise. And he must keep himself occupied, for all he can think about is her.

 

Her blood. Her sweet blood. It lingers on him yet. Her scent is all over him, his hair, his skin. His own scent taints hers, but it could hardly cover it up. At least he has been stripped of all him clothes, so he can't lick them clean, which he knows he would have, in his state.

 

She had always smelled so incredibly delicious, and even when she had cuts and scratches all over her, it hadn't been enough for him to lose all reason. Yet he did, when that blood of hers flowed so freely from her thin, pale neck. It was the first time he had experienced anything like that. Entirely succumbing to his vampiric nature and letting it take him over like a beast. He remembers it so clearly, he couldn't do anything but leave free reign to his body and it's desire.

 

He thought he knew what he was getting himself into when he turned into a vampire, but now that he's had a taste of human blood, and the most delicious one at that, he realizes he will never again be what he once was.

 

 

He doesn't know how many days it's been since the attack, but he has counted ten sunrises at this point. It is midday when he receives the visit of the bishop, Gallagher, followed by four knights, familiar faces. The guards usually keeping watch, are just behind as well.

 

« Sir Boothill, it has been a while. How are you faring? » The bishop asks, and Boothill stares at him.

« I've seen better days, is all I can tell you. » He shrugs with a roll of his eyes.

« I'm sure of that. Now, you must be curious as for my presence here today. »

« You're freeing me or hanging me. What other options do I have? »

The bishop puffs in amusement. « I come bearing good news. First off, the shooter has been apprehended. Our investigation is seeing progress. »

« I see. »

« Secondly, her highness the princess wants to see you. »

« Huh? »

Chapter 13: Footsteps & Feathers

Thus, Boothill, now adorning a shirt and a pair of pants, is escorted through the palace. All the curtains are drawn, protecting him from the sunlight, and he is guided to a bedroom in which two servants are waiting, apparently there to give him a makeover. But first, he is awarded the right to soak in the warmest, most luxurious bath he has ever had the pleasure to take in his life. He almost dozes off amidst the steam and flower-scented oils, but the servants remind him that there is no time to waste. Her highness, Princess Oakwood is awaiting.

 

He knows she's a princess alright, but nonetheless, to hear her getting addressed as such by everyone around him really drives it in. She feels so important. She is important.

 

Perhaps, that time on the rooftop was the last time he would call her dove. Ah, he should just have kissed her back then. He should have kissed her, if just once.

 

He should have.

 

 

The servants, despite claiming they are in hurry, sure take their sweet time to trim and style his hair, and dress him in clothes he's not gonna know how to take off on his own. While one of them tie his hair into a low ponytail, his pristine, Bloodless reflection stares back at him in this large mirror... Or at least he think it's him. He can hardly recognize himself though. He swears this is just another noble of this Priestdom, but unlike everyone else around him, from what he's observed, his outfits do not display any cross of sorts. He realizes this is all the work of Robin, most likely. He doesn't imagine anyone else would instruct everybody on how to attend to a vampire.

 

What is going through her head, he has no idea, but evidently, she's still willing to repay him for saving her back then. Such is in harmony with her benevolent nature.

 

« Aaaand done! » One of the servants exclaims, her hands joined together, both seeming very pleased with their work.

 

Boothill is clad with a long black jacket and a matching vest, both embroidered with gold. His pants are red, his boots are black, and there's an excessive amount of ruffles around his chest and sleeves. He looks absolutely ridiculous in his opinion, and would like his usual attire back. Especially his scarf. When he asks about it, the servants have no answer to give him. They don't seem to know, and it makes him anxious. He curses himself for letting it get taken away from him. He can only blame himself, and now he must hope it hasn't been burnt to ashes.

 

« Please await her highness' arrival here, sir Boothill. She will be with you shortly. Would you like a cup of t--..., I beg your pardon, a drink, in the meantime? » A butler offers after he's been escorted to a small tea room.

 

He accepts the offer and sits on the low couch, stiff in his attire. Just like everything else he's seen in this palace, it's decorated from top to bottom, with nowhere to rest his eyes. If he didn't know better, he'd assume there is a species of wood made of gold in this country. Perhaps there was in the past, and the nobles have cut the trees down until it went extinct. The pureblood vampire that had turned him had amassed wealth for centuries, yet their castle still pales in comparison to this place. He's sure he could feed his village for a month with the fabric on these cushions, laid out on this couch he's placing his orphaned, farmhand derriere on.

 

What is he doing here? He shouldn't be anywhere near the vicinity of a noble's accommodation, yet he's in this country's palace, impatiently waiting for this country's princess to meet him. Speaking of the angel, he can hear her footsteps hurriedly walking towards this room. He tenses. Her approaching scent is making his mouth water, and his heart beat faster. This is bad. She's not alone. There are several sets of feet following her. No, this is good. He cannot be left alone with her. They must protect her from him. Surely she's taken her precautions and is clad with religious attire from head to toe. They must all have crosses ready to be brandished at a moment's notice. Surely they have all prayed extensively to repel his beastly instincts. They must have. They have had to. Ah, they did. He can feel it. Coating the delectable, virgin scent of her deep red blood, is her immesurable saintly aura. It is permeating her entire being, and is expelling all the strength in his body. Thank God.

 

« Sir Boothill! »

 

The doors burst open, and Robin appears before him in all her magnificence. She is drop-dead gorgeous. From head to toe, he doesn't know where to begin, but there are butterflies in his stomach. He isn't given a second to admire her though, because she turns around and immediately slams the doors shut and locks them.

 

« Your highness! » A guard beyond the door exclaims, other gasping sounds coming from the servants. They all bang on the door, begging that she opens it.

« Everyone is dismissed! I will not eat dinner if you do not grant me privacy! Understood? »

« Your highness, please! We cannot leave you alone with a monster of his kind! »

« I said dismissed! » She shouts, a crack in her voice, and all agitation in the corridor ceases.

 

Everything is quiet for a moment, and then their footsteps disperse. She listens in silence for bit, then, concluding everyone has left, she turns around and sighs deeply. After calming down, she finally opens her gentle, glistening, deep blue-green eyes and meets his gaze.

 

Ah, how beautiful they are. How beautiful she is. She smiles at him with her delicate pink lips, and her thin, gloved fingers brush out a strand of her silky lavender hair from her face. Her full cheeks are the same shade as her lips, yet they blush a little deeper, indicating her embarrassment. They also indicate how healthy and alive she is. Indeed, she's alive. He couldn't have known for sure until he saw her. And he sees her, his little dove, running towards him in her large regal dress and throwing herself at him.

 

« Sir Boothill, how glad I am to see you!... » She cries into his chest, hugging him tightly. « I thought I would never see you again! »

 

He embraces her with all the might he can muster, but her holiness melts his knees to nothingness, leaving him to slowly collapse to the floor, and she follows him. Ah, has he ever held her like this? Her frame is so small, her body is so warm, and her soft feathers tickle his chin.

 

« I'm glad to see you too, Robin. »

« They all refused to let me see you! A-and I was actually starting to think you might not be of this world anymore...! » She sobs, not letting go of him. « And because I had no voice I couldn't assert myself or explain anything, I was so distressed... You have no idea how relieved I am to see you in good health. » She sniffles and wipes at her tears to look up at him, a shaky grin on her lips.

« I take it you didn't grow scared of me at all, did you? » He chuckles and strokes her hair, his body sprawled out on the floor as she sits on top of him.

« I was much more afraid that day was the last we would see each other. But I suppose I do have the favor of our Harmonious Goddess afterall... » She giggles and holds his hand that eventually loses all strength too.

« Me too... » He smiles, and his eyelids close on their own.

« Sir Boothill...? »

 

He can feel himself about to pass out. He's actually sure of it, because her voice is growing dull and quiet, yet he swears she's shouting his name and shaking him frantically. However, the fields of his homeland, swaying in the wind, are sweetly singing his name.

Chapter 14: Aura & Annex

Robin is shouting and slapping Boothill's face as hard as she can but nothing she does gets him to open his eyes. Just as she is panicking out of her mind, the butler comes back with refreshments, right in time to save Boothill's life with a glass of pheasant blood.

 

The vampire lies on the couch, fanned with a silver tray by the servant, while Robin sits at the other corner of the room, filled with guilt as she awaits his recovery.

 

« My most sincere apologies, my dear benefactor. Your aversion to holiness completely slipped my mind...How incredibly thoughless and self-centered I have been... » She holds her fists in her lap, her posture straight, yet her head slightly hanging down.

« Don't worry about it, princess... You saved yourself, trust me... »

 

After a while, he finally manages to sit up, and Robin requests another glass of blood for him. The butler leaves once more, and they are alone once again.

 

« Why don't you come a little closer, dove? I'm starting to feel lonely over here. » He smirks, making himself comfortable.

« But won't you feel sick once again, sir Boothill? » She worries.

« I'd feel better if I could see your pretty face. » His words make her blush, and she obliges.

 

She joins him, sitting on the couch opposite from him. They lock eyes for a moment, he smiles at her, and she inevitably smiles back, blushing even more. Now that she actually has a good look at him, she realizes how handsome he looks in the attire of her land. She had her own ladies-in-waiting dress him up, and as expected they had done an incredible job. They know her inside out afterall, with the years spent by her side, though she doubts they ever expected her falling for a vampire. Oh, how she wishes he would stay here forever by her side, yet she knows she cannot keep him trapped here much longer... They have a deal, and she must honor her end of it.

 

She takes a sip of her honey and chamomile tea, a blend with healing proprieties for her aching throat. Then she rests the cup atop her lap to speak to the man she loves.

 

« Sir Boothill, thanks to your benevolence, aid and protection, I have successfully made it to the capital and will soon stand before my subjects as their queen. I once more express my most sincere gratitude to you. To repay you, as promised, we have investigated the court's master jeweler's whereabouts. It appears he has taken refuge in a neighboring kingdom. We have sent word to him and he will thus return as soon as possible. It should only be a few days until then. »

« It's good news that he's alive and well... Hm, I could always try and meet him halfway, but I'd rather rest for a little. »

« Will you stay? » She perks up, « May I invite you to rest at the palace? Ah-- If the saintly aura of the main building is too much to bear for you, we could prepare my summer annex for you. It's surrounded by vegetation that is sure to minimize your exposure to sunlight! » She offers with too much excitement, which she realizes makes her look so utterly promiscuous to invite a man in this manner.

 

It is her summer annex afterall, saying he should stay there is the same as telling him to sleep in her room. She can't help it, she wants him to stay, even if only for a day longer. She peeks at Boothill's face, and he has an eyebrow raised, curious and pondering. Then he smirks again,

 

« Now that sounds sweet. It'd probably be polite to decline and be on my way, but what do I know of manners? I was raised on a farm! » He laughs, and she giggles, her hands clapsed together in satisfaction.

Chapter 15: Bud & Breakfast

« Young Misha here will attend to you during your stay, sir Boothill. » The butler from before introduces a teenage boy right before dinner.

 

The latter bows to the princess' guest, trying his best to not quake in his boots. To onlookers this must look like a lamb being offered as a sacrifice to the evil dragon dwelling at the top of the mountain.

 

« Working hard at your age, that's admirable, boy. I promise you won't have too much on your plate with me. » Boothill smiles.

 

He doesn't exactly want somebody stuck at his heel all hours of the day, but he knows he can't escape it. So might as well try not to make it too awkward for the both of them.

 

After dinner, Robin must part from him to attend to more paperwork. She shares with him that they're in the middle of investigating dozens of cardinals involved in her father's case. Thus, she bids him good night, and Boothill is taken to the summer annex. It is empty of people when he arrives, but the candles are lit, meaning they evacuated the building before his arrival, and now the young servant boy is really starting to look like a sacrifice. However, the boy does his job, and guides the vampire through the premises. Each room is decorated to Robin's taste, and remnants of her scent permeate the walls. Downstairs, Misha explains, are for the servants. Upstairs there is a tea room, a dining room, a bathing room, a room filled with instruments, books and music sheets, and there's her bedroom. The sheets seem to have been changed to suit a man's taste, or so he assumes, because her scent is not found in her bed. It's almost a shame.

 

« I bid you goodnight, sir Boothill. » The servant bows after the tour is over, and makes his return to the palace.

 

So, he's alone in here, all by himself now? Well fuck, he just might relieve himself, alright.

 

 

Robin, in her nightgown, drops face first onto her fluffy bed, her shoulders sore from the non-stop work late into the night. She sighs deeply, and turns around to stare up at her canopy.

 

There is so much to think about, now that she has a country to run. She must settle and reorganize everything that has been upturned by the recent events, and without the support of the entirety of the cardinals, well, the remaining cardinals and her have double the work to do. But for now, sleep!

 

She makes herself comfortable under the covers, and closes her eyes. Inevitably, the first visage that springs to mind is the one of the vampire currently at her annex, sir Boothill. When she thinks about the way she invited him again, her wings immediately slap her face and cover her eyes, her face burning up. Why would she say it like that? He already knows she fancies him, does she need to make it anymore obvious? And why did she jump into his embrace so desperately? She just never stops embarrassing herself in front of him, does she? Yet he accepts her everything with open arms.

 

He held her so tightly, he stroked her head so caringly, he smiled at her so kindly, and goddess, did he give her butterflies. And the way he would smirk at her. Oh, how it makes heat pool down between her legs. That reminds her of the night they stargazed, when he was on top of her. It's the same sensation as then. What would have happened, had he given in? What a question, he would have taken her. Yes, he would have kissed her, bit her, and taken her virginity. It would have been nothing like the erotic novels she has read. It would be so much better than words could describe. He would have her seeing stars. She curls to her side, her fingers travelling down her abdomen, in between her legs, to rub her mound. Her free hand finds itself at her breast, tugging at her nipple. Oh, he would bite it, wouldn't he? And kiss her skin from her neck to her thighs. Would he kiss her heated core? Lick it? Suck onto it? She needs him to. Please, sir Boothill, do!

 

Even before the night they stargazed, there had been a time when his lips were oh so close to hers. Yes, so close that only her hand had come in between. She remembers the wet and rough sensation of his lips on the back of her hand, and thinking about such roughness on her flower, makes her back arch out, her hardened bud between her fingers sending shocks of pleasure throughout her body. Would he work his fingers in a similar manner? How would he take her to the edge? There are so many questions she wants him to answer, but will he ever answer them? Must she be the one to get the answers out of him? But how is she supposed to? How is she supposed to seduce this older and experienced man? She who doesn't know more than what's written in those novels? She's sure he would gladly teach her everything. She wants him to teach her. She wants his fingers to be the ones making her reach her climax. She's sure he'd make her scream and cry his name. But tonight she is quiet, biting at her bottom lip as she finds release, because she isn't being made love to by the vampire she loves and lusts for like a sinner. She pants softly, her arm over her eyes. She's already wondering how she's going to be able to face him tomorrow. Will she be able to act normally? She's never done anything like this before. When did she become so dirty-minded?--Of course, it's all his fault in the first place! He always looks at her with those eyes, akin to a hungry beast... He must take responsability.

 

The sun has barely begun to rise in the horizon, when from the rooftop of this luxurious annex, Boothill spots the young servant making his way to him from the palace. In his arms, Boothill recognizes his red shawl, so he jumps down, and meets him half-way.

 

« Good morning, sir Boothill! You are up very ear--Ah, right, uhm, I hope you had a good night. I come to return your belongings, they have been cleaned and repaired. »

« Repaired? » He finds himself alert, and snatches his red shawl from the teenager's arms to inspect it. It is intact, thankfully.

« We apologize, we could not find a way to repair the large burnholes. Please let me know if you would like it discarded. »

« No way in hell. »He sighs in relief and puts it on.

« Another change of clothes has been prepared for you for today, sir. »

« Nah, I'll wear my usual, thanks. »

 

He frees Misha's arms from his clothes, and turns back to the annex, followed by the latter.

 

« What of my pistol and rifle? » The vampire asks after he's changed into his personal attire.

« Oh, they would be locked away in the palace's armory. Only knights are allowed to carry weapons on the palace's premises. »

 

Boothill clicks his tongue. He's fond of his firearms, and would rather keep them on his person, but he reassures himself he's not gonna need them around this place. And evidently, it's not like he can protect Robin with them, anyway. Is she awake yet? If he can't watch the sunrise ever again in his life, surely he can have a look at the one beauty that rivals it.

 

An hour or so later, he is inside the palace, walking down the hallway, accompanied by the servant, towards the dining room where he is invited to have breakfast with her highness the princess. Said princess appears at the other end of the hallway, followed by a troupe of ladies-in-waiting, servants and guards.

 

A smile is instantly shapes onto her features when she sees him, and he can't hold back his own, when, as expected, her beauty blinds him. Then his eyes widen, because along the scent of her divine blood, is another he can recognize anywhere, but has never found on her until now. His hand covers his mouth. He is in disbelief, and his blood is pooling right down to his crotch. At the same time, some form of anger rises in his chest, and his jaw clenches. He must make sure.

 

« Good morning, my dear Benefactor. I hope you spent a peaceful night. »

 

His dove smiles so innocently at him, yet she can't hide it, beneath her pale makeup he can tell how red-faced she is. Yes, her heart is beating as fast as it usually does when she's embarrassed about something.

 

« Good morning to you, your highness. Spare me a second--in private, will ya? »

 

He walks right up to her, and before she can answer, he takes her by the hand and pulls her into the nearest empty room. He slams the door shut and pins her right up against it, his hand near her head.

 

« Sir Boothill?! » She gasps, her arms up in front of her, pressed against his chest.

 

He dips his head in, and breathes in her scent. Yes, it's her scent, and only hers. It hasn't changed, so the anger that surged from within subsides, replaced by more lust. Because he knows, this little dove of his had some fun last night, all by herself. Robin whimpers above him, and he lifts his face up to meet her gaze, biting his lip and smirking at her. Oh, she's going to drive him insane.

 

« Were you thinking about me last night, priestess? » He whispers.

« Huh?! » She exclaims, and her steaming-hot red face is enough to answer his question.

 

Holy fuck, he wants her so bad.

 

Her heart is beating like crazy, and her fingers curl into his shirt. Her wings hide her eyes, and she turns her face away. Boothill licks his lips and cups her cheek.

 

« Eyes on me, dove. » He says, and she barely peeks through her feathers, her pupils glistening.

 

She's on the verge of tears. He tilts her chin up, and gently pushes one wing open.

 

« Didn't think you'd get caught, did you? Even when you know you can't hide anything from me. » He sneers, but his cock is so hard in his pants.

 

She was touching herself while thinking about him, no one but him.

 

« ...W-why are you doing this to me? » She whines in the whisper she manages to get out.

« Is it because you missed me? Were you that happy after seeing me again? »

 

The hand that had been on her cheek travels down to her waist and pulls her in.

 

« Sir Boothill!... » She whimpers. « Won't you let a maiden have her secrets...? » She pleads in a small voice.

« Should have made sure I wouldn't find out, darling. You know how sharp my nose is. »

« ...Evidently that wasn't on my mind. »

« So you admit it? » He bites his lip, grinning.

 

The situation amuses him as much as it turns him on. She thinks for a moment, a pout on her face.

 

« ...I suppose there's no man in the world who can please me, so much so that I must take matters into my own hands. »

« Hah, is that so? I guess you'll have to try your luck with a monster then. » He leans in to whisper right in her ear, and tugs at her earring with his teeth.

 

Then, he backs off, because as much as he wants to fuck her brains out right then and there, it's not what she deserves. No, he doesn't want to treat her so poorly. So he skips over to the balcony, his shawl tossed on his head, ready to jump down into the garden.

 

« I suppose you won't be joining me for breakfast... Then, I hope to see you at dinner. »

« See you at dinner, dove. Oh, and just so we're even: I was thinking about you too, last night. »

Chapter 16: Mother & Daughter

« My dear benefactor, I have a request to make. » Robin whispers in between two bites of her bread and cheese.

 

Boothill eyes her, a brow cocking. They're in the middle of dinner, and Robin's guards have doubled since yesterday morning's events. It seems they've decided to much more ardently protect her from this ill-behaved vampire. When he approaches her, they will stand in front, keeping her out of his reach. Robin hates it, but she must remain calm and collected. She doesn't want rumors of her being brainwashed or anything of the sort to start circulating within the palace walls. So, because she cannot talk to him in private, she communicates under her breath, in which case only Boothill is privy to her words.

 

« Please come to my balcony tomorrow night. There is somewhere I would like you to take me. »

 

Boothill complies to her request, as apparent by the three knocks on her window the night in question.

 

« So, where are we going? » He asks.

« This is something I can only ask of you, sir Boothill. I would like you to carry me to the next city over up north. »

« ...Uh, are you running away? Decided you don't wanna be queen afterall? » He jokes.

« No! » She giggles, « It's... It'll be my mother's birthday tomorrow. I would like to visit her... But because of the current situation, I cannot be caught leaving the city, so I was advised to visit her at a later time, after I've been crowned. »

« So they won't let you visit your own mom 'cause of public perception? Sounds like a load of bull to me. Let's go. »

« Thank you so much, sir Boothill. »

 

 

Boothill makes a display of his superhuman strength as he treks through the city, the gardens, the forests and the farmlands with incredible speed, the princess in his arms. She has been careful not to pray as of late, knowing it would affect his abilities, but he still needs a break from their extended contact, so they take a short break. He sits down in the grass, leaning back on his arms as he pants heavily.

 

« My sincerest apologies for putting you out for my own selfish reasons, my dear benefactor. »

« Don't sweat it. I'm used to your whims, princess. »

« I've truly been nothing but a bother to you, haven't I...? »

« What, you think I'm mad at you when you asked me out on a date? » He laughs.

« Sir Boothill! You know why I had to ask you, please don't tease me about it... »

« Can't deny it's nice that you still rely on me. And you know, just the two of us alone in the wild feels right. » He smiles up at the bright moon, and Robin stares at him.

 

She should be used to his flirtacious tongue by now, but yet again her heart leaps out of her chest. He notices, and meets her gaze, but she immediately averts her eyes.

« You're not gonna say it, are you? » He asks.

« ...Say what? »

« Nevermind... » He smirks and gets up, « I'm ready for another stretch, let's go, princess. »

 

 

If few people would willingly wander into a cemetary deep into the night, because of how scary and haunting they are, the one Robin and Boothill walk into tonight is very different from that.

 

It's well taken care of, and spans across a large field of flowers that glisten under the moonlight. It's peaceful and the graves seem to be cleaned regularly. Boothill has never seen anything like it before. Back home, graves aren't much more than a mound of soil in the ground, and a wooden cross hammered together. He wishes he could have done more for his darling daughter, but he only had two hands, and hundreds of graves to dig.

 

The priestess walks amidst the slabs of white stone, and the vampire follows a few steps behind. Soon, she stops in front of one of the graves.

 

« This is where she lies...Mother, I am here. » She smiles, her hand on her heart.

 

Boothill takes off his hat to greet the grave, then he backs away, giving Robin some room to talk to her mother. She is quiet for a long time, her eyes on her mother's name. He feels as if he shouldn't stay here and intrude, so he walks away. He goes through the field, and soon enough, finds himself plucking flowers. They're colorful, and don't look anything like the ones that grow on his homeland. His daughter would have loved them. How cute she would look with a crown of these on her little head... If he could at least bring these back home and adorn her cross with them, he's sure that'd make her happy up above.

 

He sighs and looks over at the winged princess. Her hands are together in a fervent prayer for her resting mother, and tears are streaming down her cheeks. She eventually falls to the ground, folded on herself as she sobs quietly, as if she didn't want to wake up the resting bodies beneath their feet.

 

A long time passes as Robin remains head in her arms, down on the ground. Everyone is but a child in front of their parents. This isn't the future Queen of the Priestdom of Oak crying her eyes out in front of a piece of carved stone, but a daughter who needs to cry in her mother's lap for a while. Boothill can relate to that. He too, wishes he could feel his mom's warm hand on his cheek once more, but such a day will never come. Even in the afterlife, he's gonna be thrown in the pits of hell, while his whole family is up in the clouds. He's never gonna see his little girl again.

 

The flowers in his hands, he knows they won't make it back home with him, so he ties them together into a bouquet with some long grass. He hesitates for a little, but seeing as Robin is sitting up again, her tears dry, he figures it might be fine to approach. He places the humble arrangement in front of the smooth stone, and Robin looks up at him.

 

«Can't go visiting a lady empty-handed, now can I? »

« Thank you so much. » She smiles, and stands up. « I've finished telling her everything I needed to. We should head back now. »

« Before that, do you...mind doing me a favor? »

« Oh, most certainly. How may I be of help? »

« Could you pray for my daughter too?...I can't exactly do that no more. »

« Ah, it would be an honor. I'm sure my mother would be delighted to carry a missive her way. » She gently chuckles, and kneels on the grass once more.

 

She interlaces her fingers and closes her soft palms together. Then, she processes the vampire's words.

 

« ...Anymore...? » Her confused eyes look up at Boothill. « What do you mean, my good sir, that you can't pray anymore? »

 

A gust of wind blows through the flowery field. The moon sits low in the night sky, and the sun announces it's early awakening on the opposite side. A bird starts to sing in the distance, and another answers it's call. Boothill stands quiet for a moment, a few seconds that feel like minutes to Robin. Their eyes remain locked, until the vampire speaks.

 

« What do you know about vampires, princess? » He asks, a question that seems to come out of nowhere.

« Vampires? » She stands up slowly, her hand to her chest. « ...They classify as monsters, consume blood of various species, and are weak to sunlight and divinity...? » She answers, but remains confused. « Those would be the very basics, I suppose? »

« Then, did you know there are different kinds of vampires? »

« Different kinds...? » Her brows furrow, growing more puzzled by his questions.

« Guess I'll teach you something new, eh? » He puffs bemusedly. « There are three kinds. Pureblood, demiblood, and bloodless. Can you guess what is what? »

« I can certainly guess what pureblood and demiblood vampires are, but what are bloodless vampires? Ones that don't consume human blood, like you? »

« Nah, bloodlesses are those who were turned into vampires. »

« Turned into vampires? There is such a thing? » Robin gasps, her hand to her mouth. « ...Wait, sir Boothill. Are you telling me-- »

« That's right. I wasn't born a vampire. »

 

She stares at him, stunned beyond words. The sun rises behind his large-brimmed hat, and in the shadow shines his red eye. A bright shade of crimson no human could be born with. His pointy ear sticks out of his white hair, too sharp to not be a different species. And his fangs are akin to a beast, grown to pierce the skin of their prey, alike, yet so different from knives sharpened by a man's hand. His body is cold, his heart beats slowly, yet his wounds heal faster than her prayers can heal her own...His wounds that don't leave any scars behind, but Robin recalls now, a scar. A large scar in the shape of a tilted cross on his abdomen.

 

Yes, she had seen it back then, when she awoke in his arms, pressed against his naked torso. There it is, the evidence. The evidence that Boothill, the imposing vampire from the far west that saved her life at the bottom of that cliff just a couple of months ago, had once been in times past, a human being.

 

« H-...How...? How is that possible? »

« It's simple, you drink the blood of a pureblood, and hope you survive. »

« But, why? Why did you turn? »

« Same as the reason I'm here today. For revenge. »

« ...Is it for your family? »

 

He nods, and takes out the nobleman's ring from his pocket. The sunrays reflect through the precious stone with each small movement of Boothill's fingers.

 

« Whoever this belongs to, murdered my babygirl, my parents, my brothers and sisters, my friends, my fellows, everyone that ever meant anything to me. He wiped out my entire village. And my goal is to make that motherfucker pay back a hundred fold everything he did to each and every one of my people. Trust that Hell will be so much sweeter than everything I've got in store for him. »

 

 

The fingers that cover her mouth tremble, and her eyes, full of sorrow, meet his own. She cannot say in words what she feels, but the windows to her beautiful, kind and empathic soul let him understand everything.

 

« Sir Boothill... »

 

Her hand reaches for his cheek, it's so warm against his skin. He leans into it. Then, she comes closer, and hugs him, spreading her warmth through his entire body. She's comforting him, soothingly rubbing his back, until she seems to find the right words to convey. She doesn't break away from him, but her hand finds his cheek once more, and her eyes find his once more.

 

« Your resilience... Your resilience astounds me, sir Boothill. » She smiles. « You have been through an unfathomable amount of pain...Yet you smile, you laugh, you dance, you love, you protect... You help people in need, you play with children, you go out of your way not to cause trouble... You even comfort me, and make bouquets for people you will never meet... You are such an incredibly admirable man, sir Boothill. Your family watching you from above must feel reassured, and proud, to know the man they hold in their heart has never given up, and has never given in. Revenge... Revenge has driven you to give up on your human body, but it has not taken away your humanity. You travel across unknown lands with only a single clue in hand, on a quest to bring justice to your beloveds. Yet this quest does not stop you from saving a helpless young lady in need. Oh, how proud your daughter must be to have you as father. How proud your parents must be to have you as son. I must pray and sing your praises so that your family may laugh and cheer. » Her tirade ends with her ever so gentle chuckle.

 

Her hands, once more, are joined in prayer. She turns to her mother, who notes down everything that must be carried on to Boothill's family and friends.

 

After her prayer is finished, she gets up on her feet again, with the help of Boothill's hand. She dusts off her dress, though it will remain stained at the knees, an indication of her devotion.

 

« I am done, sir Boothill. We can return to the palace, now. »

« Thank you... » He smiles, and softly squeezes her fingertips between his own. Then, he lifts the back of her hand to his lips. They're pressed there for a short second, until he lets go. « Thank you, Robin. »

 

 

The winged princess's eyes are wide at the man before her, and her face bursts to flames, as it always does when Boothill is involved. The back of her gloved hand has been kissed countless times as a noblewoman, but this is the first time she's felt such a tingling sensation on her skin...Love must be altering her nerve-endings. After bidding her mother's grave good bye, they thus make their way back to the palace. It is not without the usual difficulties that her saintly aura causes to his monstruous body, but they manage to make it back before her usual waking hour. Barely. She only just manages to jump under her bedcovers before her ladies-in-waiting knock at her door to get the day started. Needless to say, she has difficulties focusing on her work that day.

Chapter 17: Berries & Boredom

Okay, staying at the palace is great and all, but Boothill must admit: He's grown bored out of his mind.

 

He has nothing to do. The only thing he can look forward to in the daytime is dinner with Robin, and on the occasion that she has time for a break, tea time. Aside from that? Well, he gets a nap in, he enjoys the luxury of long baths, he plays on his harmonica, he goes into town, but he doesn't get to do more than walk and watch, because nobody's willing to interact with a monster, and he doesn't have any money left on him. At least with a few sancts he could sit in a tavern and have a drink... He'd work if he could get his guns back, but the guards have all collectively decided to make his life a misery and refuse to let him anywhere near the armory. He's gonna have to bring the issue up with Robin, even if she's got enough on her plate as it is.

 

So, he hangs around in her music room, and plays with all these instruments he doesn't know. A harp, a harpsichord, a violin, a transverse flute...? Is what Misha listed them as. Sure, he knows of violins and flutes, , but they're not for him. That harp thing? He'd like to see how his dove plays it. Then, he goes to the stables. Their smell is the same everywhere he goes, so he feels comfortable hanging around with the horses, until the terrified servant has the guards come and kick him out. In the end, he goes to play at skipping rocks by the lake, but it gets boring very quickly by himself, because he's still just waiting, waiting and waiting for his pretty princess to show her face. How can she work non-stop, without a break, for so many days? Surely she's going just as crazy as him by this point?

 

 

« I would like to relax in my bath for a while. You may retire for the night. » Robin smiles at her ladies-in-waiting, and she needs not repeat herself.

 

They get out of her hair, and she sighs deeply, sinking into the tub. All of her muscles are sore, and the hot water is working wonders to release all the cumulated tension. Her servants always take care to massage her limbs, but at this point she needs someone to step on her shoulder blades...

 

« The princess sure is getting worked to the bone. » Boothill's voice says from behind her.

 

She manages to hold in her scream, but her soul almost escapes her. She turns her head to find him sitting behind her.

 

« ...What are you doing in here, sir Boothill? » She immediately turns back around, and sinks deeper into the water to hide under the bubbles.

« I've got business with you, that's why. »

« Surely your business can wait until I'm fully clothed...? »

« Nah, 'cause I've decided we've got plans tonight. Here, » He holds a familiar bunch of berries in his hand, and Robin's eyes light up.

« Sir Boothill, you don't mean...! » She gasps with excitement at him, a big smile on her face.

« C'mon princess, let's get your hair done, yeah? » He smirks deviously, and she knows another sleepless night awaits her.

 

After helping her with her hair, they part ways to get dressed. When she is ready, she stands outside on her balcony, and waits only a few seconds until Boothill shows up. He is wearing clothes that had been prepared by the palace for his day to day wear. A white loose ruffle-y shirt, and black, high-waisted pants. A very paired down outfit that brings out his incredible figure. Robin doesn't wear a dress for once, instead she tries a shirt, skirt and corset combination, and a hat to top it off. The ensemble is coordinated with her red hair.

 

« Got your money with ya, dove? »

« Right in here. » She shakes her coin purse, and stuffs it in her pocket.

« Then we're off! »

 

He picks her up, bridal style, and into the city they go.

 

« So, where are you taking me tonight, my dear benefactor? »

« Somewhere you can let loose, princess. Only drinking is no fun, so I figured we could play some as well. » He gives her that ridiculously handsome smirk again, and soon, they stop on a rooftop in the middle of the bustling Golden City.

 

A district for adults, but not a red one. With his chin, he points down at an establishment where men and women alike walk in and out of, all their faces hidden beneath their hats.

 

« Uhm, sir Boothill. What is this place exactly...? »" She asks, admittedly a bit worried now.

« A place a priestess would never step a foot into. » He laughs, and jumps down into an alley of the street before heading into the building.

 

When they enter, her first impression is that it's not very different from other bars. It's filled with people drinking and chatting, seemingly high in class, but not quite nobles yet. She looks up at Boothill, wondering what's so blasphemous that a priestess wouldn't take a step in here.

 

He leads her and they sit at the counter, where he orders two apple juices. Robin blinks, gives him a curious glance, and the wink he sends her way lets her guess that this just might be a code word. Excitement rises within her, anticipating what's coming next. The bartender gives the couple a once-over, and nods.

 

"We serve non-achoholic drinks downstairs. Down the hallway to your left. »

« Aight, let's go, princess. »

 

Boothill grabs her hand and down the hallway they go, but instead of turning left, they turn right. And there, at the end there is a door, and the closer they get the louder the clamor from the other side becomes. Boothill pushes it open, a foggy amount of smoke wafting in their faces, and there, a staircase takes them down to what Robin can only identify as:

 

« A gambling den?! » She gasps, covering her mouth, her eyes wide at the vampire. « Are you joking me, sir Boothill?! » She whisper-shouts at him.

 

Gambling represents everything she stands against, and he dares bring her down here? She's the Queen-to-Be of this country, for goodness' sake! She can't be caught in a place like this when the stability of their country is still only hanging on by a thread !

« What's wrong, dove? Never played card games before? » He cocks his brow at her and laughs, « Trust me on this one. »

 

He wraps his arm around her shoulders, and takes her further in.

Chapter 18: Cards & Cigars

Old maid is a card game she has played before. Betting money on winning, she has never. But here she is, left with only an ace of clubs in her hand, and depending on which card she picks from her last remaining opponent, she wins, or loses. Boothill is standing behind her, observing attentively, and awaits the resolution of the bet. This is their first game of the night, and after this they are either going to keep playing, or they will have to go home, pockets empty. She hadn't brought enough money to gamble all night long, because that evidently hadn't been part of her plans. She sucks in her breath, holds it, and finally picks a card. It is an ace of spades.

 

« My, it would look like I've won. » She grins proudly at the vampire, who pats her shoulders approvingly.

« That's my girl! I knew you had it you. » He laughs, « Now let's have ourselves some drinks, yeah? »

 

After a few glasses of liquid courage in, she's freed of her inhibitions, and finds herself on a roll. She didn't think she was so good at playing cards, or perhaps everyone is losing on purpose, or maybe Boothill is intimidating everyone behind her back, but she keeps bringing in the money, and everyone is starting to gather around to watch this young lady challenge even the most seasoned individuals.

 

« This young lady must be truly favored by our Harmonious Goddess! » An onlooker comments.

« What will it take for her to lose? » Another interjects.

« She wouldn't be cheating in some way, surely? » A third whispers in a fourth's ear. Not discreetly enough for Robin not to hear though.

« She always keeps both hands on the table, there's no way. »

 

Surrounded by this many people, she must admit she is growing nervous at the prospect of being recognized by one of them. The Queen-to-be, gambling away at night when her subjects at large remain in turmoil is simply unacceptable. And now that she can hardly focus on her cards anymore, she inevitably loses the game. Everyone, disappointed by the outcome, disperse and get back to their own games.

 

« So your luck ran out in the end, eh? » Boothill leans over her. At some point, while she was occupied, he'd grabbed a cigar and started smoking it. « Looks like it's time for me to step in. »

 

The smoke makes her cough, and she can hardly believe how close he's holding it to her face.

 

« But, young one, you don't look like you have even a sanct left to bet. » The old and seasoned player, who's counting his gains, cocks a brow at them.

 

« You trust me, dove? » Boothill whispers in her ear.

 

She does, so she nods, but she wonders what he's getting at. As the other man said, their pockets are empty, but regardless, the vampire takes her seat.

 

« Then, pretend you don't hear a thing I'm about to say. »

 

She frowns, because such words do not forebode anything good.

 

« Well, I'm waiting. What are you putting on the table, young one? »

« How do you like my lil missus here? »

 

Boothill rolls up his sleeves and grabs the cards, beginning to shuffle them, as if he hadn't said the most disrespectful words he possibly could towards The High Priestess, Princess, To-Be Queen, Robin Oakwood of the Priestdom of Oak. Nope. He just kicks his feet up on the table and rocks back in his chair, cards in hand, ready to play.

 

The despicable, old, perverted man strokes his chin with an approving nod. He'll hardly find prettier anywhere else. So he accepts, and the game is on.

 

Boothill has never looked this relaxed before, and the longer the game goes, the more stressed out his opponent looks. He's losing, slowly but surely. He asks for another round, the vampire grants him one, and he loses again. Then a third round. Why not? Yet he loses again. Then he slams his fists on the table and points an accusing finger at the younger one, shouting something about cheating.

 

« Come on boy. I like to play fair and square, aight? You're just a hundred years too young to challenge me. » Boothill laughs and pulls all his coins into a sachel.

 

Well, he must be feeling generous, as he tosses one coin the old man's way.

 

« Alright darlin', let's call it a night, yeah? » He throws his arm over Robin's shoulders, and up the stairs they go.

« Wait, where is my my pouch? » Robin hears a woman ask.

« And my bag? » A man searches.

« My purse is empty! » A woman shouts.

 

Robin remembers then, that Boothill had no such thing as a sachel with him, when they came. She looks up at him with wide eyes as he leads her out of the den. Boothill, a mischevious glint in his pupils, winks at her.

 

« ...Sir Boothill, you didn't...! »

« Thieves! They're thieves, catch them!! » A woman yells out, and everybody starts running after the duo.

 

Boothill picks up the princess with one arm, makes easy work of the few remaining steps, skillfully dashes through the hallway. Everyone, and especially the owner had heard the screams, so the latter makes an attempt at barring the vampire's way, only to be shoved right out of his path. Boothill runs out of the establishment to finally jump out of anybody's sight, back up on the rooftops.

 

He stops once he judges they're far away enough, and puts the princess down.

 

« Alright, priestess. I need you to point me to an orphanage in this Golden City of yours. »

Chapter 19: Kisses & ...

Robin guides him to an orphanage located in the outskirts of the city. It's an orphanage she hasn't had many occasions to visit, due to her frequent travelling. She knows of their struggles with overcrowding and lack of staff, and she can only assume no attention was given to their case while she was gone.

 

After dropping the sachel down their chimney, the two sit together on the roof, gazing up at the stars. The night is quiet, the wind soft, and the crescent moon is glimmering in the deep blue sky.

 

« So, sir Boothill. This was your idea of relaxing? Drinking, gambling, and robbing people? »

« Well, you see. I was bored outta my mind doing nothing at the palace all day, and when I get bored, I start causing trouble. So when I was people watching in town and seeing all them folks with all that money to spare, I figured I'd do something productive. » He snickers, but then clears his throat, sounding more serious now. « Sorry about earlier. I was putting on an act, but that ain't how a gentleman outta treat his lady. »

 

Her heart flutters at his words. To be called 'his lady' in that deep raspy tone of his, oh how it makes her fantasies run wild. Yes, she's his, body, mind and heart. He doesn't even let her question it, no. She's his. And she loves it. Not to be mistaken, she's not his possession, she's his lady. Yes, she loves the sound of that. She tries to keep her composure, but can't help the little grin on her face. She's simply so in love with him, yes. When she gazes at his deep red eyes that gaze back at her with such intensity, she feel it deep in her chest, how enamoured she is by him.

Enamoured by him, everything he does, and everything he is. His empathic, kind-hearted and justice-seeking nature. He cares about children the same as she does, and helps them in his own way, without seeking fame or recompense for his selfless acts. She adores him more and more by the day. How can she, when she loves him so much already? Ah, she must thank the Harmonious Goddess for sending him her way. This man that everything in life opposes her to, yet she finds so many commonalities in... Oh, she must say these words before they burst out on their own, doesn't she ?

 

« Sir Boothill... » Her upper body turns to face him, and she hold his gaze.

 

His usually piercing crimson pupils are resting on her with a gentleness that only draws her further into him. Her hands find themselves on his chest, and she clings to the fabric of his shirt, pulling closer to his body.

 

« Yes, princess? » He leans in, their faces, and especially their lips, only an inch apart. She can feel his breath on her skin, and his heartbeat speeding up, just like hers.

 

« Sir Boothill, I... »

« Yeah? » He brushes her hair out of her face.

 

« I... »

« You...? » He tilts his head in closer.

« ... »

« Come on my dove. What are you so afraid of? »

 

He closes his eyes first, and she does too. His cold, rough hand cups her cheek and she leans into it. Her hands climb up around his shoulders, hugging him, and finally, she closes the distance between their lips.

 

 

Oh, this shy little dove of his. She manages to make his stone cold heart skip a beat. She initiates with barely more than a peck, yet her soft, hot lips make his insides jump. He rests one of his hands at the back of her head, and the other wraps around her waist, pulling her in closer. She lingers, still, telling of her lack of experience, but he doesn't make her wait. He himself can't wait a second more. He takes her into the kiss, gently, because he doesn't want to overwhelm her, and begins the dance.

 

Nice and slow does it. He tilts his head, and takes her into a steady rhythm. Her lips grow hotter, her warmth spreading to him. She lets out a small whimper that excites him much more than it should, but he can't help it. She's delicious, her lips taste like nothing he's ever had before. It must be the flavor of those exquisite exotic fruits he's heard so much about in the past. So sweet he could get drunk off of her.

 

Robin is the most beautiful girl he's ever laid his eyes onto, he thought that much even back then, when she was unconscious and dishevelled, in the carriage he pulled her out of. It should have ended with that. He had no plans of pursueing or sedcuing some young naive noblewoman, but before he knows it, he finds himself flirting with her, dancing with her, trying to kiss her, laughing with her, sleeping in her bed, comforting her, protecting her, carrying her in his arms and playing music for her.

 

What was it that she said again? That they were as different as the sky and the earth, but met in the horizon. Something along those lines. That sounds about right to him. Here is this little ol' farmhand turned vampire kissing the girl he likes, a winged princess. Fate works in funny ways. Oh shoot. Yeah, he likes her. He really does.

 

 

Novels can't even begin to describe the feeling of a kiss, Robin finds. There are butterflies all over in her stomach that can't seem to find a way out, there's this incredible tingling sensation at the tip of her lips, her body feels light, she feels drunk, and she can't get enough.

 

She pushes her body into his, tightens her hold around him and slants her head for something deeper. She gasps for air, and whimpers into his mouth. She doesn't want this amazing feeling come to an end. Her back arches, heat pools in between her legs and she lets out an loud, indecent moan.

 

It brings her back to her senses, and she parts her lips from his. Oh, what is she doing on this rooftop, outside so late at night? Her grip loosens, she pants heavily, her eyes half-lidded as she looks up at Boothill. His gaze seems full of lust and it excites her.

 

« No one...ever told me...that a kiss felt this heavenly... » She catches her breath, her wing grazing her mouth.

 

She wants more, so much more.

 

« And I've still got so much more to teach you, dove. »

 

Again, there's this smirk on his devilishly handsome face, sculpted specifically to seduce her, and she feels another wave of pleasure going down to her lower abdomen.

 

« Take me home and teach me everything, sir Boothill. » She demands, certainly sounding like a cat in heat. She's conscious of it, but she can't control herself.

« Everything in due time, priestess. » He gives her a short peck and smiles. « You don't look like you're all there with me, and I ain't gonna do something you might end up regretting. » He strokes her head, and eventually picks her up. He seems to agree that it's time to call it a night.

Chapter 20: Poison & Pillows

Boothill lets her down at her balcony, but she doesn't let him go just yet. Her body hasn't settled down, she's still burning up on the inside, and she knows what she needs. She gets on the tip of toes to kiss the vampire again, clinging to him almost desperately. No, very desperately in fact. His lips are simply so addicting, she could kiss him all night. But as she peppers his mouth with her kisses, he tries to speak:

 

« Robin--... I think... I think I know why you're--... »

« Yes? » She hums, her hands pulling at the collar of his shirt.

« You're being affect--by my pois--...My poison! »

 

What is he even talking about? Poison? More like fruity red wine. She could drink barrels upon barrels of him. Let the priestdom label her a drunk, for all she cares.

 

But evidently Boothill cares, for he takes her by the shoulders and pulls her away from him, holding her in place.

 

« Robin, seriously! You're not yourself, and it's because of my poison! »

« Huh~? »

« ... We'll talk about this tomorrow. Go to bed now. »

« Bed? Yes! Please, take me to bed, sir Boothill~! »

 

Her arms reach out to be carried once more. But Boothill only turns her around, and makes her walk to her bed on her own.

 

« Alright, sit down. » He orders.

 

She does as told, on her large fluffy bed. He kneels down in front of her, and takes off her shoes for her. Then he takes off the outer layers of her clothes, her corset, and soon enough she's in her undergarnments (long and modest camisole and underpants), but instead of fully undressing her and finally beginning to do unspeakable things to her, he tucks her right under her sheets, and backs off.

 

« Get some sleep now, princess. Sweet dreams. »

 

 

He leaves her room, taking her shirt with him. Yeah, he's gonna need it. He showed a bigger amount of restraint than any saint ever could, and he needs to get back to the annex as soon as possible.

 

His dove acted like an animal in heat, and if he had not managed to keep his wits about him like he did by some miracle, he would have breeded her right then and there. But she's young and innocent and she would have regretted everything the next morning for sure, and he hates the idea of that.

 

He doesn't want to make love to her, but with her. He wants to give her a night she will never forget and never regret.

 

Once inside his bedroom, he sheds off all his layers and gets onto the bed. Stuffing Robin's shirt in his face, he takes in a deep breath, holding it for a minute. Her sweet scent is enough to make his hardened member twitch with expectation. He wraps his free hand around it, which certainly feels like gravel compared to how soft and velvety Robin's snug and welcoming pussy must feel.

Velvety, that's how her lips felt. Her kiss, as romantic as it had been, sent blood rushing straight to his penis. He couldn't do anything about it. He could practically taste her blood through the thin skin of her lips and he wanted so terribly to bite into them and get a taste. On top of that she was mewling and moaning so... so... so scrumptiously into his mouth he almost soiled his pants in that moment.

 

He spreads his precum around his shaft and jerks his hand up and down vigorously, the pleasure building in his abdomen. Her intoxicating, fresh scent clinging to her shirt is driving him nuts. He should be used to all these heightened senses of his, but fuck, he can't get over it, he can't get over her scent. How did he even control himself that day, when he could smell her juices on herself? What did she do that night, while thinking about him? What did she imagine him doing to her? Does it even compare to what he's thought about? His sweet little dove, he's gonna show her a whole new world.

 

He grunts deeply, thinking about her thin, pale nape and shoulders while she was naked in that bathtub, giggling and humming as he ran his fingers through her hair, working in the hairdye. He couldn't see anything because of the bubbles, but that only makes his imagination run wild.

 

He tightens his grip and his hips buck into his hand. What are her colors beneath her clothes? How soft do her modest breast feel in his palms? What sounds will he draw from her when he pinches and tugs at her nipples? What will her cunt taste like? What will it feel like? How deep can she take him? How loud will she be? Haaah fuck, he's gonna have to be so careful with her, isn't he? He doesn't wanna hurt her. She's his precious princess afterall. Yes, she's his.

 

His head sinks into the pillows, inhaling sharply to get more of her scent from her shirt. He's close, his jaw clenches, his movements grow frantic. If only she was here, riding his dick and screaming his name until sunrise. In this annex with nobody to bother them, they could do anything their hearts desire. Fuck on every surface from the dining table to the balcony, hell, even in the garden! Satiate their every want and need before they must inevitably part ways.

 

His climax hits him, all of his muscles tensing as his cum spills all over his hand and abdomen. He groans her name as he keeps jerking himself off until he gets every last drop out.

 

Eventually he slows down, and his body relaxes into the bed. He pants heavily and closes his eyes for a minute, but when he feels himself doze off, he shoots up. Nope, he cannot be caught naked with the Queen-to-Be's shirt in hand in the morning. He heads to the bathroom to erase any evidence, and that reminds him there is plenty of evidence of their night out left in Robin's bedroom...

Chapter 21: Clues & Conversations

As soon as she wakes up, Robin smacks her face with her hands, because she remembers absolutely everything and she feels more embarassed than she ever has--even compared to the other morning when Boothill caught her. She lets out an inner scream and kicks her feet. Of course, her dreams were filled with nothing but the vampire's naked figure doing all sorts of unspeakable acts. But above all, she did all those things yet couldn't even say the three words that she needed to.

 

It would appear that she did get her feelings across, despite it all, and Boothill accepted them... Right? The kiss they shared felt to her as if there was no room for ambiguity, but it's not as if she confessed and received a reply with words. And then, it turned so oddly...sexual.

 

Weren't first kisses supposed to be much more romantic? It felt romantic at first, like time had stopped and it was just the two of them under the deep blue sky. But then, her insides started burning up and she wanted him so terribly she couldn't stop from throwing herself at him like a nymphomaniac. He did mention something about a poison... Was that the cause? Oh yes, that's what he said. However she feels perfectly fine right now. Is it a substance with a temporary effect? Oh dear Goddess, is it something akin a drug? Was she drugged by his lips in some way?

 

She gets out of her bed, and sees that her room is perfectly tidy. She recalls Boothill helping her out of her clothes (which she now blushes deeply about), but when did he put everything away? It couldn't have been her servants, they would have awoken her first and gasped about her current hair color. Right, now that she thinks about it, she must wash the color out before anybody sees her like this. Everyone would have too many questions that she wouldn't know how to answer. She is thankful to Boothill for helping her unwind after many an intense days of work, but would probably prefer a method that doesn't leave her feeling so guitly...

 

This morning, Robin arrives second at the dining table for breakfast. Indeed, Boothill is already sat, waiting for her. When their eyes meet, he greets her with a dashing smile, and her face grows hot. She can barely hold his gaze, incredibly flustered, yet she must act as she usually does if she doesn't want to raise the suspicion of her employees. She clears her throat and wishes the vampire a good morning, then sits at the end of the table.

 

« So, how is your highness feeling today? » He asks, his smile not leaving his features.

« I-I feel fine. What about you, sir Boothill? » She stutters. As expected, she just can't brush off everything that went down last night.

« That's good to hear. » He sips on his glass of blood. « I'm feeling great, as expected. »

« I am glad, then. » She smiles politely, and the conversation ends.

 

Of course, there is so much they have to talk about, but they can't in the presence of anybody else, and alone time, well Robin doesn't have very much of that at all in the daytime. She lets out an awkward chuckle at the silence that reigns in the room, then turns to one of her ladies-in-waiting.

 

« Rosa, what is my schedule for the day? » She asks.

« Yes, your highness. In the morning will be vocal training and revision of your address to the public, in the afternoon Bishop Gallagher will be here for the review of admitted evidence from the prosecution. We have also received word that Lord Aventurine is expected to arrive at the palace by the evening. »

« Oh! Wonderful news. Sir Boothill, Lord Aventurine is the palace's jeweler you have heard much about. It appears we will be able to arrange a meeting as early as tomorrow. » She clasps her hands together excitedly.

« Hah, now that's fucking perfect! » He exclaims, and a gasp is heard in the room.

 

Ah, one of her ladies-in-waiting must have been utterly shocked to hear a swear word in the presence of her majesty the Queen-to-Be. Robin just giggles a little. Oh yes, her secret lover is certainly foul-mouthed.

 

 

Boothill finds out, contrary to his expectations, that the jeweler in question is a young blonde man, not very tall, with a scheming look to his eyes. His over-the-top attire, accessories and mannerism make the vampire almost cringe, as he curtsies to the priestess upon his arrival after dinnertime.

 

« Your Highness, it is a relief to see that you are in good health. I rushed home as soon as I received your missive. It is my pleasure to be of service to you once again. »

« Thank you, Lord Aventurine. I reciprocate the sentiment. You must be tired from your journey, so I will keep introductions short and let you retire for the night. » Robin smiles softly, with her hand on her heart, and extends her other to present her benefactor. « This here is sir Boothill whom I wrote to you about. He hails from the far west and saved me from certain demise a few months ago. Sir Boothill, this is Lord Aventurine, whose great talent and accomplishments earned him the position of the palace's jewel maker at a young age. We have arranged a meeting for the two of you in the morning. »

« Nice to meet ya. » He tilts his hat.

 

Blondie nods his head in return, then his eyebrows furrow a little.

 

« Won't the morning be... difficult for our good sir here? » He asks, seemingly perplexed.

« You think a little bit of sunlight's gonna do me in? Dont ya worry about it. I'll be there and square. » Boothill laughs.

« We still have much to learn about the various species roaming our continents. » Robin giggles, « But, I can personally guarantee that my dear benefactor here does not sleep in. » She jokes, which makes Boothill smirk in amusement.

 

Yeah, between the two of them he was not the one sleeping in, that's for sure.

 

« Why, the two of you certainly appear quite close. » The jeweler remarks. « I understand. I will see you in the morning then, sir Boothill. »

 

 

The jewel maker observes the diamond ring with a magnifying glass, carefully, for a long while, twisting and turning it on itself with an expert, gloved hand. Then, he brings out a bunch of tools and proceeds to clean it. Boothill is sitting across from him, jaw clenched, nervous, hoping, praying if he could, that even the smallest clue will emerge from the inspection. A raise of the blonde haired man's brow immediately makes the vampire lean forward, elbows on his knees.

 

« Aha! » Aventurine exclaims, and Boothill stares, almost gulping

 

The ring is placed down on the silver tray on the table between them, and the jeweler leans back, crosses his legs, his hands placed on his knee.

 

« This ring appears to be the make of a Stonehearts Academy student. »

 

Boothill's eyes narrow, and he can hear his heart thumping in his ears.

 

« What else? »

« It has the trademark prongs work that is taught at the Academy. On top of that, the cut of the diamond is rather unique as well. Should you head to the Academy, a teacher just might recognize the characteristics of one of their students' style, or so I pray for you. »

« And if I find that student I'm one step closer to that bastard. » He smirks, a feeling of excitement surging within.

 

After so long, he's finally got a breakthrough. He didn't have very high expectations when making that deal with Robin, when they first met. He was maybe skeptical, even, but he was practically at a dead end after arriving on this continent, so trying his luck with an angel was his best option. And clearly, he struck gold, in a lot of ways. He wants to run to his beloved, pick her up in his arms and swing in circles in celebration, and at the same time he wants to grab the nearest horse and gallop straight to that academy.

 

« So where is that academy of yours or whatever? »

« About a month's travel by carriage to the north east. »

Chapter 22: Patrols & Partings

« I truly rejoice to learn that I was able to pay you back for your help, my dear benefactor. » Robin smiles up at Boothill.

 

Arms locked together, the couple is taking a stroll in the garden, the moon and the stars illuminating their path. Guards may be patrolling the entire area, but it seems like child's play for the vampire to not walk into them.

 

« When are you planning to resume your journey? » She asks.

 

She must ask, because she cannot fool herself into thinking he will remain by her side until the rest of time. She doesn't want him to go, of course, but at the same time, she wants him to be done with it and return to her side as soon as possible. Though she doubts he would even return in the first place... Yes, she loves him, but he may only be indulging her while he's still around. He may very well move on and forget all about her with time.

 

« I promise I'll say bye before I go. Can't tell you when, if you don't mind keeping me around for a bit, but I won't disappear on ya, dove. » He smiles back at her, reassuringly.

« You don't strike me as the kind of guy who would play with a young lady's heart and vanish overnight. » She chuckles behind a wing.

« I'm still here 'cause I've got a hard time leaving. » He tilts her chin up and leans in for a short peck. Robin demands another one, as she turns her body to him and wraps her arms over his shoulders. So, they kiss in a tight embrace.

« ...I have asked far too much from you already, sir Boothill, but...If you're planning to stay, could I possibly ask you to remain here until my coronation...? » She inquires with much hesitation, fully aware of what a spoiled brat she is at this point. But, for her coronation, she absolutely needs him.

 

This is the last selfish request she will ever make.

 

« Well, I gotta see things through to the end, yeah? »

 

Robin simply can't stop grinning and giggling. She's hugging Boothill tightly as he carries her back up to the balcony of her room, and even when they're there, she doesn't want to let go of him, but she does eventually. She can't just endlessly cling to him like a drunk in love.

 

And now that she thinks about it, she does feel rather...tipsy? Which is strange, because a single glass of wine at dinner wouldn't have that effect on her, yet her body feels warm, and she wants more and more affection from her handsome lover.

 

« Ah...Your kisses... You said they were poisonous, didn't you, my dear benefactor? » She asks, as he sits her down on the ornate stone railing.

« You're feeling it again, yeah? » He stands in front of her, his large hands resting at her waist.

« What do you mean, by poisonous? Will I end up in mortal danger should you kiss me excessively? »

 

He chuckles, and shakes his head.

 

« Nah, none of that. It's not, like, actual poison. It's...Gah, what was the word again? Aphro...Aphrosidac? »

« Aphrodisiac. » She corrects him with a giggle.

« That. The pureblood told me about it, apparently vampires just have that effect on other species. »

« Oh dear... No wonder I felt so-... » Her face heats up, « So warm inside, the first time we kissed... »

« Sorry for that, I completely forgot all about it. » He scratches his cheek.

« No need for apologies, sir Boothill. It was a most wonderful night. » She smiles. « So you forgot all about it, hm?~ » She grins to herself.

 

As expected, he's not the type to play around with women, and this confirms it.

 

« You sound like you wanna test how real potent it can get, huh? » He cocks a brow, smirking as he leans up close to her face.

 

The sudden approach takes her by surprise, faintly gasping. And oh, is his offer most tempting, but she's certainly going to moan out loud and attract the attention of all the patrolling guards, or she's going to try and pull her dashing huntsman to bed, which she is far from ready for.

 

« There is much I wish to learn, sir Boothill. » She reveals through fluttering lashes, « But, I must turn in for the night now. Tomorrow is a big day, afterall. »

 

« Feeling nervous? » Her hand rests over her beating heart.

« Yes, I must admit. »

« Never done anything like it before? »

« As High Priestess, I've conducted many ceremonies since my coming of age. However, I will be standing before my subjects as their Ruler, which I have never done before, evidently. »

« No reason you wouldn't do great, dove. »

« Thank you for your reassurance, my dear benefactor. »

« ...Any chance there'll be an attempt? »

« We fear so, but I cannot remain in hiding any longer. »

« Then let me get my guns back for the day, I'll protect you. »

« But I cannot ask that of you... »

« Pretty sure I'm the one asking you, this time. »

« ...I understand. »

 

He smiles, and pecks her lips.

 

« Goodnight, dove. »

« Goodnight, sir Boothill. »

Chapter 23: Headpieces & Handguns

His sweet little dove stands before the immense, endless crowd, at the highest point of the city plaza, on a balcony where her highness can look over all of her subjects. Even as he stands atop the roof of an apartment building, his eyes gaze up at her.

 

She is stunning, truly, in her poofy lilac dress and modest accessories (Well, accessories are useless for a beauty of her kind). What will most stand out to the populace though, is the lack of any crown on her head.

 

Boothill too, wondered for a second why she wasn't sporting her princessy headpiece, the one he's seen in her bag during their journey, but he quickly understood her intentions. The people are whispering to each other about it admist the cheers and applause for the appearance of their To-be Ruler.

 

« What will she be then, Popess? » Someone questions.

« Is that even a thing? »

« What else would she be? »

« If she proclaims the same title as her father, she should be burnt at the stake. »

« How dare you compare our High Priestess to that corrupt scrooge? She healed my son's legs! »

« She sat back and did nothing but watch while her father and her brother tormented us all those years! »

« Are you an idiot? Can't you tell how humbly she is dressed for this occasion, as a princess? »

« She's so beautiful... »

 

As expected, her subjects aren't stupid enough to blindly support someone who hasn't yet proven their worth. She has as a priestess, but certainly not as a Ruler. But that's enough listening in on other folks' gossiping. He's got work.

 

The rooftops are clear, so it's time to inspect the inside of the buildings. They've been inspected and are guarded by the city knights already, but human beings might miss something a vampire never would. Yet, nothing amiss so far, but it's too quiet for his liking. Not a single sniper hidden in the most ideal corner to shoot a bullet right in between her thin eyebrows? Nah, Boothill ain't gonna believe that.

 

« Come on out, asshole... »

 

Even reverse psychology doesn't do the trick. Boothill has his rifle pointed right to Robin's forehead, hidden away from every and anybody's view, but he shouldn't be the one here, it should be the assassin. He scans over the crowd again, and again, but nobody's body language or expression stands out.

 

Then where? Where is that motherfucker? He's practically pacing back and forth at this point, trying to figure it out. He pauses to look at Robin. Her voice carries out to the crowd as she announces the beginning of the cardinals' trials, starting with the deceased pope, and her brother.

 

When he thinks back on the day she weeped in his arms about her father's death, he sees that she's one hell of a woman, to stand as strong as she does today. Yeah, he knows why he fell for her.

 

Now, if this asshole assassin isn't in the princess' front, what about her back? Nope, there are guards surrounding her 180 degrees. Below isn't an option, above isn't eith-- Above is an option. On the floor above the one she is on, is the attic. There are only small round windows the size of a human head, made of stained glass, though. Nobody could point a rifle downwards right below, and there's no visibility... Both ways.

 

Boothill can't see through, even with a vampire's vision. But perhaps, from the inside, the curve of the balcony and the shapes of the people on it can be made out just enough? Besides, from that distance a rifle is hardly necessary, a handgun would get the job done just fine. Boothill doesn't hesitate. He takes aim, and shoots.

 

Everyone, from the princess to the guards to the immense crowd, ducks by instinct. Then the screaming begins, and the populace goes haywire, while everybody is trying to figure out where that shot came from, the guards are practically laying on top of Robin to protect her. Boothill checks the window, and the body of a man lies dead, a hole through his eye.

 

So now, he's trying to make the signs he was told to make at the guards, but they're obviously not looking at him. With an eyeroll, he jumps down to the ground, and up to the balcony to inform them that there's nothing to fear while they're hurrying inside, and that's when more shots start to resonate through the plaza. Problem is, they're aimed at him.

 

He turns to see the freaking city knights he's travelled with try and put bullets through him. One eventually gets him in the thigh, and another in the shoulder. It's painful, but hardly enough to incapacitate him. Yet why are they trying to? There's no way they don't recognize his get-up... Do these idiots think he's been an assassin sent out to kill her all along or something? He follows behind Robin's guards to hide inside as well, when suddenly, he's face to face with their sword and spears.

 

« Alright, what the fuck, guys? »

 

 

When she hears those words from Boothill's mouth, she turns around to see the scene that is unfolding before her, and when she realizes what's happening, she becomes very angry. Her guard is trying to pull her away, and she slaps his hand off.

 

« Lower your weapons at once ! » She orders, and collectedly walks over to stand in front of Boothill, facing the royal guard that's supposed to be protecting her. « What is the meaning of your actions? »

« Your highness, please get away from him! He's dangerous! »

« He made an attempt on your life, your highness! »

 

Robin stares them down, as they all remain frozen in their positions.

 

Never has anybody seen such a look on her face. It seems they have been taking her for a naive fool this entire time, and she is greatly offended by what their words insinuate. They believe she has been duped by this calculating monster, and saving her life at the bottom of that cliff was all part of whatever ploy they concocted in their heads.

 

« Sir Boothill, » She turns to him, « Speak. »

« Body's in the attic. »

« I see. Anything else of note? »

« All these knights of yours are some lousy shots. »

 

She cracks a smile.

 

« Are you hurt? »

« I could use some help extracting a bullet. »

« A doctor will see to your wounds immediately. I will go back outside now, see you at dinner tonight, my dear benefactor. »

Chapter 24: Names & Nymphos

« You saved my life yet again today, perhaps I really should reward you with my blood, this time. »

 

Robin taps her index on her lips, pondering, while the tall, intimidating vampire has his hands wrapped around her waist, leaned against the balcony, evidently their favorite spot to hang out at this point.

 

« Your lips will do just fine, darlin'. » He leans in, awaiting said reward.

 

Robin blushes and grants him a peck, then realizes that can't be nearly enough, and gives him a kiss, a real one this time. With her arms wrapped around his shoulders, she stands on the tip of her toes as she tilts her head in. Thanks to him, the public address remained a success. Despite the crowd's initial panic, when she stood before them once more, unharmed, she was able to finish her speech, with their full attention on her, and her alone.

 

They saw before them a young lady who does not cower in fear, who stands firm in her resolve in the face of death. Yes, she is ready to be their ruler. But she's still only a young lady, and right now she really really wants Boothill to change that. She knows it's the aphrodisiac effect messing with her mind, but it's only a matter of time before he makes her a woman, so can't it be now?

 

« Sir Boothill... » She whispers against his lips, « Teach me more. »

 

 

She doesn't need to ask him twice. He picks her up and takes her inside. No, not to the bed where they would end up under the covers together, but to the couch. That'll be more comfortable to make out on, and they're going to do a lot of making out since she asked so nicely.

 

He sits down and leans against the cushions, pulling Robin onto his lap, her legs kept closed to one side, to draw the line. Whatever helps him keep his sanity. Because yes, he must admit that third base is uncharted waters for him, in this body, and he doesn't want to hurt her when he pulls her up the stairs of adulthood. Nah, one step at a time does it. While he holds her securely against his body with one arm, he brushes a few silky strands of hair out of her face, and cups her pink cheek. His beautiful, doe-eyed princess looks at him expectantly.

 

« Tell me darlin', what do you know about kissing? »

« What do I know...? » She responds, her fingertips grazing his jawline, « I know of loving pecks and romantic kisses, and... I've read about some quite indecent ones... » She admits, her blush deepening.

« They write about that, huh? What do they say in those books? »

« ...Hmm, something about a vampire who doesn't make his princess wait any longer to introduce her to those sorts of kisses." »

 

His hand lowers to her chin, which he hooks his index under and lifts up.

 

« Part your lips for me, dove. »

 

 

She does as told, and Boothill tilts his head far to the side to lock his mouth with hers. Because of their difference in body temperature, she always finds his lips soothingly cool, and she loves it when she can feel them heat up against her own. Her lover kisses her deeply, deeply enough that his teeth tap against hers ever so slightly, and then, she feels what can only be his tongue prod in between. She opens her mouth a little wider, and he pushes in.

 

Her eyes widen for a second before they flutter shut again, the sensation in her mouth unlike anything she could have expected. She whimpers and clings to him, and his hand cups the back of her head to pull her closer. She had never noted anything particular about his tongue up to this point, but now that it's inside her mouth it feels so big, wet and strong. Boothill is grazing that indecent muscle along her teeth, tickling her palate, then curling it around hers, which makes her mewl and moan helplessly as pleasure pools down her abdomen. This new, foreign sensation feels simply incredible, her body heating up and demanding more.

 

On top of that, his fingertips caressing the back of her scalp are sending shivers down her spine, making her back arch and her toes curl. As their tongues dance together, she tries her best to match his rhythm, but there's a learning curve to these steps. The sound of her whines, his hums, and the wet, perverted noises their mouths are making are invading her ears, and she can feel her heart beating so fast, while her wings are flapping and stretching as if to chase out the butterflies in her stomach. But Boothill has the tip of his pinky and ring finger stroking right at the base of her right wing, and it's making her lose control. Since when did that area feel so good? Her hips sway in a futile attempt to create friction against his thigh, because there's that burning sensation between her legs that she desperately needs to relieve.

 

More, more, more! She needs more, she wants more, her body is begging for it! She wraps her arms around his head and pulls him in further, whatever he's doing to the inside of her mouth feels so amazing and she doesn't want it to stop, ever. Let her suffocate if she must, anything to keep kissing Boothill for a little longer... But he won't let her do that.

 

He tries to part their lips, but when she shows resistance, she can feel his fist curl in her hair, and he gently pulls her head back. While he's panting softly, she's gasping for air, her chest heaving up and down.

 

« You--...You leave me--...I have no words, my good sir... »

« Breathe through your nose, my darlin'. » He instructs with a smirk on his face, before licking his lips in such an obscene way that a wave of pleasure rushes down to her damp crotch.

 

She can't resist a second longer, she inhales sharply and pulls him back into the kiss. This time, she's the one sticking her tongue out into his mouth. She imitates as best as she can what she's just been taught, but even she can tell, it's messy and erratic, and she can't focus, and his sharp fangs are threatening to cut open her tongue. The thrill of it, the possibility of him tasting her blood, losing control and attacking her for real, makes her even wetter. Yes, he can do whatever he wants with her, it's bound to feel good.

 

« Touch me!--...Touch me sir Boothill, please!--... »

 

 

Boothill bit off more than he can chew, this time.

 

His dick is hard as rock in his pants, Robin's got the side of her hip rubbing right up against it, and she's just begging him to fuck her at this point. And holy fuck does he want to, but this can't be right. This goddamn aphrodisiac he can't do shit about is drugging up his precious princess and is making her forget who, what, and where she is, and he doesn't even have to do a good job at pleasuring her. Hell, he's not even touching her yet it looks like she's already about to cum from kissing alone. This shit is messing with his pride, when did he ever need help making love to the girl he likes?

 

He breaks apart from the kiss to let her breathe, and while he's got his fists firmly closed in her hair and clothes, he watches as he realizes where one of her hands is going. Yup, right down in between her legs, where all her blood is concentrated, where he can smell her hot juices dampening her undergarnments.

 

« You've fully turned into a nympho, haven't you? »

 

He bites his lip as he glares into her clouded eyes. He can feel the rope holding his sanity together this close to snapping in two, as she can't control anything about herself anymore, whether her face, her voice or her body.

 

« Sir Boothill...! » She cries out his name, her fingers pressing in.

« Hey, what's your name? »

« ...Please-...! »

 

...Yeah, he doesn't like this. While his body is screaming for him to tear off her clothes, bite into her neck and fuck her into oblivion, he picks her up and takes her to bed. He blows out the candles in her room and doesn't linger, closing the curtain behind him as he leaves. A breath of fresh air helps him regain his senses somewhat, and he looks down at the hands that held his dove a moment ago. There's a piece of torn cloth in one, his palm bleeding from how hard he dug his nails into it, and in the other there are strands of pale blue hair. He really was about to lose control.