Days passed, and Ivan settled into his work at the courthouse, with a man named Theodore assigned to him by Liam Atkinson. Meanwhile, Marianne was given a personal maid named Daisy, who attended to her apart from the rest of the staff.
In Derefield, the capital of Zarafeth, the huge mansion given to Ivan loomed through the morning mist. Marianne sat quietly in her bedroom, having only been awake for a few minutes.
When she first opened her eyes to the foggy morning and stepped toward the window, she was surprised to find Daisy already waiting for her. The maid was a vampire, yet her eyes lacked the usual crimson color. Ivan had once explained to her that pureblood vampires could hide their true eye color, a trait that halflings and turned vampires could not do.
"Good morning, my lady. Did you sleep well?" Daisy asked, her voice empty of emotion. Marianne simply nodded.
Moving from Hestinburg made it hard to adjust to the mild atmosphere of Zarafeth. Her only comfort was Ivan's presence, though he was often gone, leaving her alone in the vast estate while he went to work.
Their relationship remained formal. To anyone else, the silver-haired witcher might have looked like her fiancé, but the truth was it wasn't anything at all. Ivan had only sheltered her a few days before their journey.
Back home, Marianne had run a small flower shop—one that sold plants used by witches for rituals. Ivan had used her to catch a culprit, nearly costing Marianne her life. Out of guilt, the witcher had promised to keep her safe. Yet, Marianne still did not understand why he had brought her all the way to this kingdom when she could have stayed back with her brother.
When Daisy stepped forward to help her with her bath, Marianne politely declined, just as she did every day.
"Please call for me if you need anything," the maid murmured, leaving Marianne alone.
Once the door closed, Marianne removed her scarf. Her ears lengthened into sharp points, and her eyes turned green. A pair of soft, translucent wings unfurled at her back.
She looked at her reflection in the mirror—her true self. Fortunately, she had learned to hide her heritage well; her twelve-year-old brother, however, failed terribly at it. She had left him under the care of Uncle Zarf, who was an elf himself.
Tidying herself, she dressed in a green gown and tied her hair with a chocolate-silk scarf, leaving a few strands to fall on her forehead. The council had done a good job providing the clothes as well.
Familiar with the mansion's layout after a week, she walked down to the dining hall. She descended the stairs to see Ivan already sitting at the dining table. Dressed in a good blue shirt and beige trousers, the witcher looked majestic with his silver hair.
Two plates were set on the table, as if he knew the exact moment she would arrive. It felt strange.
Ivan's gaze subtly moved upward, following her movements as she sat opposite him.
When he had first found the woman running the flower shop, he had used her to catch the witches causing hassle through the kingdom. He had known her identity the very moment she followed his instructions, her innocence covered with fear and caution. It had driven him to play the dice to make her stick to him.
Though he had played the situation to favor himself, Ivan wanted to wait. He sided the vicious thought to chain her up to him, choosing instead to wait until her heart beat for him.
Until then, he decided to keep the little elf under his guard. Now that they were in the land of vampires, he had to be more than alert. Elven blood was scarce to them, and these creatures were often used as sacrifices for the rituals of witches.
It was hard to hide her scent without her knowing, as any immediate exploit of emotion might reveal her nature.
Marianne started to chew her food while a thought processed through her mind. She wondered if she should do some work to support herself. She had never relied on anyone previously, and staying at home all the time made her feel useless.
She saw the witcher quietly eating his breakfast. Feeling her gaze, he looked up.
"Do you have something to say, Miss Marianne?"
He looked at her with his brows lifted, waiting for her to speak. A noticeable blush spread up her cheeks at the soft mention of her name.
"That... Mr. Westwood, I wondered if I would be allowed to work," she said with hesitation, hope filling her eyes as she looked at him.
The vampires who stayed back near the wall heard the woman. Wasn't she supposed to enjoy the privilege? Silly creatures. Did people say it correctly that white witches were no different than humans?
Ivan took a few moments before he said, "Certainly, but I would want you to first spend some time knowing the city before you start things." He saw a thoughtful look cross the elf's face before she nodded.
After the quiet breakfast, Ivan had to step out for work. He turned toward Marianne before speaking.
"Marianne, follow me up to the room."
At the sudden call, Marianne wondered if she was hearing things. The cold witcher had addressed her by her first name. Shocked, her feet immediately followed him before he disappeared from view.
The vampiress tried to follow, but she was stopped by the butler of the house. The woman stared at him with deadly eyes. Indeed, the butler was a witcher who had been sent with Ivan from Mornareth.
Just as the elf reached the room, the door shut by itself. A blue hue filled the gaps, preventing their voices from reaching the ears of the vampires outside.
"Do not stand there. Take a seat," Ivan said, sitting on the chair next to the bed.
Marianne moved slowly to take a seat opposite him. She looked into the brown eyes staring back at her.
"Show your hand," he said, in a tone that was nothing less than a command.
A drop of blood was drawn from Marianne's finger. It fell at the center of the table, suddenly revealing rough light lines forming a circle.
Marianne hissed for a moment when her hand was held in a firm yet careful grip. She looked into the witcher's eyes as they bored into her, and her consciousness began to drown into his.