“I’m still here, you know,” Tom said quietly while looking away as I strolled towards the pond. It took me a moment to realize what his real problem was.

  “Is it my problem if you see me naked?” I snapped without turning around. “Are you some boy stuck in puberty? Or have you never seen a girl before, or what?” I didn’t waste time on modesty. Without hesitation, I stripped off my underwear and tossed it aside before picking up the washcloth. There was absolutely no way I was going to bathe.

  “You completely lack decency, you know that?” Tom said, his voice sharper now, though he stubbornly kept his back turned.

  I flared, anger bubbling up. “Why does everyone have to nag me about how I do things? Everyone! Is it just because I’m a bit different or what?” My voice cracked on the last word as I spoke more to the night than to him. Markus. Mary. Arthur. They had all been guilty of the same impatience, the same mistrust. And now Tom was joining the list.

  “You said you’re just a bit different?” Tom’s voice was quieter but no less biting. “You laughed while ripping out someone’s heart, biting into it in front of us. You’re not ‘a bit different’—you’re a monster.”

  His words hit me harder than any blade. Did I really do that? I thought for a second, and then suddenly remembered the bliss as I sunk my teeth into a heart. Still …

  “…I have feelings, you know,” I said softly, my voice tinged with sadness. “Nobody wants to be called a monster.” I pouted, sinking down to the edge of the shore with the cold water just a meter from my feet.

  “And yet, you try so hard to be one,” Tom shot back, his tone sharp enough to cut through the night. I clenched my teeth. There was an ugly truth buried in what he said, and part of me didn’t want to admit it.

  “I’m sorry,” I said, my voice flat and hollow. “I’m sorry for killing the elven spy who used you. I’m sorry for murdering your friends. I’m sorry that I enjoy a good massacre. Is that what you want to hear, you idiot?” I stared up through the branches, the sky gray and overcast. No stars shone to soothe me tonight.

  “It would be a beginning,” he said softly, breaking the silence that had settled like a heavy cloak around us. The only sounds were the occasional splash of cloth dipping into water and the scrubbing noise as I rubbed at my skin. “You murdered my friends.”

  I ran a hand through my tangled hair, hoping he wouldn’t get sentimental now.

  “Your so-called friends were scum. They raped, pillaged, murdered—what do you expect me to do? And now you blame me for doing the same?” My voice was sharp with frustration.

  “There were good people among them,” he said quietly, voice thick with a desperate need to defend them, “people driven into poverty with no way out.”

  “Good?” I scoffed bitterly. “Since when is robbing others of their possessions ‘good’? You’re just as evil as I am. But at least I’m not a hypocrite.” Without warning, I grabbed my blood-soaked dress and threw it over his shoulders.

  Tom’s reaction was slow, clumsy. As he fumbled with the heavy, stained fabric, more blood smeared onto his clothes. I couldn’t help the small smirk that tugged at my lips.

  “I know what we’ve done!” Tom’s voice cracked, trembling as his gaze locked onto his bloodied hands, as if trying to decipher some hidden meaning in the stains. “And I… and I…” His words faltered, swallowed by a storm of guilt and confusion. I shook my head slowly, disappointment etched deep into my features, but there was still a flicker of hope—I wasn’t ready to give up on him. He had to understand, eventually, that his true nature was closer to mine than anyone else’s.

  “And you helped the elf execute every damn part of it,” I said coldly, voice low but steady. “And now you’re blaming yourself, pretending you’re ashamed, when deep down you’re satisfied. Your plans, your ideas—they worked. Your group’s cause triumphed, even if it came at the cost of blood and fire.” I paused, letting the weight of my words settle between us. “There’s no way you didn’t see the atrocities. Tell me, what did you feel when you watched a caravan burn? When you saw merchants beheaded, women brutalized? Did you feel power coursing through you, commanding death and destruction? Did you savor the helpless struggles of a woman beneath you?”

  I turned my attention to cleaning my head, swirling the cloth in the water, before moving to scrub my leg. The pond’s surface was already stained faintly red, the water carrying the grim evidence of the night’s horrors.

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  “I did everything because the elf forced me!” he blurted out, voice desperate and defensive. His denial stung more than any accusation.

  But I was beyond disappointed—I was frustrated that he still couldn’t face the truth of his own heart. All along, while I was cutting down those bandits, I had kept a watchful eye on him. Yes, he was scared, but not once did he shed a tear for the friends he lost, nor did he lift a finger to help. He let it all play out without resistance.

  Even when he challenged me at that damned game of luck, he wasn’t fighting for freedom or redemption—he was clinging to a fragile excuse to avoid his own darkness. The elf didn’t force him to stay; he came willingly, dragging his conscience behind him like a broken chain. He wanted to deny the monster inside and pretend later he was the “good guy” looking back in the mirror. A twisted kind of self-delusion, if you asked me.

  “You could have run away,” I said, voice low but unwavering, pointing out what I saw as the truth.

  “Run away?” Tom scoffed bitterly, shaking his head. “Neither he nor you would have ever let me.”

  I looked up, meeting his eyes. “You can run now,” I said quietly, “I’m naked here. I wouldn’t chase you, nor would I send anyone to hunt you down. You’re free. I’ve said it—I’m not going back on my word.”

  He glared, chest heaving. “Free? You forced me to be your subordinate right after I flipped that cursed coin.”

  His words rang out louder than he intended, the weight of that truth settling heavy between us.

  “Nope,” I said, my voice calm but firm. “I told you to come with me because we’ve got a few elves to kill. You could’ve refused right then and there. But you didn’t. You followed me.” A slow, knowing smirk tugged at the corners of my mouth as I watched the confusion flicker across his face, eyes still closed shut. He clearly misunderstood the choice he thought he had.

  “You would’ve killed me otherwise,” he insisted, trying to shove me into a role I never claimed to have. I wouldn′t force anyone to serve me. They all did it out of free will, just like he would. Once a servant of mine though, I expected absolute obedience.

  “Ohhh, I see what you’re doing now,” I said softly, leaning in just a little, letting the silence stretch between us. “You can’t live with the guilt of what you’ve done, but at the same time, you’ve come to like the chaos you’ve sown, haven’t you?” His trembling, once so uncontrollable, ceased completely. The stillness in his body told me I was hitting the mark.

  “Oh my, what will become of you if you don’t have someone to push you to do all these wicked things? If you want to find out, you can walk away right now. Or,” I added, tilting my head with a playful yet sinister smile, “you can turn and look at me… naked. But if you do that, I swear, I will never let you slip away from me. After all, I can’t have you going around spreading tales about my… beautiful body. But you will also need to serve me for the rest of your life. It′s up to you.”

  I faced him squarely, eyes locked on his closed ones, waiting for his response. The moment stretched on—each second loaded with unspoken consequences. Finally, he took a hesitant step forward, then faltered, frozen in place. I cocked my head in genuine curiosity, understanding perfectly the agonizing choice he was being forced to make. No matter which path he took, looking at himself in the mirror afterward would be torture.

  Slowly, almost painfully, he turned away, eyes clenched shut. What a stubborn, bothersome fellow.

  “Will I regret opening my eyes?” His voice was bitter, almost defeated. I paused, considering his question carefully, then found the answer I wanted him to hear.

  “Yes,” I said softly, my voice almost a whisper in the still night, “but you will regret running away from yourself forever more.”

  With that, he slowly opened his eyes. His gaze immediately locked onto mine, fierce and unyielding, unwilling to wander downward as I had expected. There was a trace of desire in his expression—even curiosity. In that moment, I could see the war raging inside him more clearly than ever.

  A faint smile curled on my lips, and I parted them just enough to reveal the sharp canines that now protruded from my mouth—a subtle but unmistakable hint of my true nature. His hand shot up, slapping his forehead in sudden realization as the pieces of the puzzle finally clicked together.

  He had known all along I wasn’t entirely human. If he had paid close attention to my speech to the bandits, he would’ve recognized the nuances. But the notion that I was a vampire had never crossed his mind. After all, my extinct kind rarely enlisted in any military force.

  “Damn it,” he muttered, exasperated. “First, a bandit elf, and now an insane vampire girl. I’m seriously running out of luck.”

  He paused, then squinted at me suspiciously. “But… why are you still naked? Just knowing you’re a vampire should’ve been enough to kill me.”

  I shrugged with a casual air, tossing him the wet cloth. “Yeah, well… I need someone to rub my back. There’s this one spot I can’t quite reach.”

  He blinked, caught off guard, as I turned to gaze once more at the pond’s dark, shimmering surface. Even this hateful water—something I’d always despised—seemed almost beautiful under the pale moonlight.

  For a moment, the weight of everything—my monstrous nature, the war, the blood, the betrayal—fell away, leaving only the quiet calm of the night and the strange companionship between two lost souls.