The weekend had passed without any more major incidents. Well, maybe there was one, a little, tiny bit of an incident of Ron losing his patience after their last tea set got sacrificed by Faye. All that in the good name of studying.

  They both went through hours of physical training, though on the first day, the only one swinging the sword was Dante, as Ron didn’t even let the girl hold a wooden stick. She ran hundreds of laps and still wasn’t discouraged. That evening she scrubbed off the colourful and polished porcelain from her first tea set, which is how devoted she was to her new role. She only forgot to be gentle with that porcelain.

  On the second day, when Dante decided that training bored him and he would rather read, she talked the butler into sword training. It was a disaster to say the least. Ron, as a trained military man, wasn’t a gentle teacher when it came to that matter. He told her that “she holds the sword like a big spoon.” Dante wasn’t sure if he timed it correctly, but that was probably the moment in which she decided she would show Ron who the boss is.

  In her break, she discovered that Dante read her favourite adventure-romance, and from a little scared reserve, she started yapping to her heart's content. As much as Dante was amused, Ron was furious, but still patiently guided her through the rest of the training. In the evening, Dante, like a fish out of water, decided to bake the cookies. He was sure that the first to catch him would be Ron, but his predictions were wrong. Faye was surprisingly a great listener and eager to learn customs from around the world. She wanted to know everything about the Death Week and in the end, she was the one to help him bake. It was the only thing she was better at than Ron, who still sometimes added too much sugar. She joked that baking and cooking are in her blood, again forgetting that she feared him.

  When they were done, she wanted to pour him some tea. To do that, she had to take out the new tea set. That tea set was something that stayed in Dante’s memories. He was certain that it would stay in memories of everyone who had ever witnessed it. It was a tea set that his grandparents decided to give his father for birthday, when they were still in contact. It was, to say the least, hideous. Now Dante knew where it had been all those years. Thankfully, both Agnes and Veyra decided that it could not grace the tables in the house they manage, and the moment Faye got out one cup, the rest magically flew out of the shelves and hit the floor. All blame fell on the girl.

  Ron may not have been angry that she broke ‘that’ tea set, but it was the second one in only two days of her stay. He only lost his temper after she called him a cruel and bad teacher.

  On Monday morning, Dante caught her just before she could order a second carriage to the academy. He simply pulled her into the one that came for him, insisting it was more practical since they were heading to the same place. Ron only waved them off with a tired smile. No one blamed him for feeling happy that his problems just went away for more than half of the day.

  They sat in silence. If Iza were with them, it wouldn't be silence for Dante at least, but she preferred walking, or rather floating everywhere. In truth, she wasn’t fond of horses, as they seemed to feel the presence of ghosts, similar to crows and cats, but in comparison, they weren’t as nice. Faye looked a little uncomfortable in such a small space alone with a young lord. She observed him for a few minutes before finally asking a question:

  “Can I ask you something, Young Master?” he just nodded his head. “Why do you treat me so well, almost like a friend?”

  For a second, he was a little taken aback. He wanted to say that he never cared for status, as he is just a second son, but then he realised something that maybe she wasn’t aware of.

  “For me, it doesn’t really matter, but a lot of people will start treating you differently.” Her brows rose like she was asking ‘why?’, so Dante obliged and explained: “You’re now a Butler in training…”

  “A butler?” she repeated and quickly covered her mouth, realising how foolish that must have sounded and that she cut him off. Her cheeks became red as she muttered ‘Sorry’. “But I only know male butlers.”

  “Butler is a person in care of a noble man or person, while a handmaiden is the one in care of a noble lady. Most people choose the same gender as their personal aid simply for comfort, but it doesn’t mean that a man cannot be a handmaiden and the other way around. After training, you will choose what you prefer, but for now, you’re a Butler. Didn’t Ron tell you that?”

  “He probably did,” she said, avoiding his eyes. “I was too excited when he helped me move in, don’t tell him that, please.” The corners of his mouth moved in amusement. “So…You were saying, Young Master?”

  “Ah, yes. Being a Butler or Handmaiden is a little like holding a noble title. You can become richer than most minor noble houses, so people will start treating you like one.”

  For a moment, she just looked at him with her mouth agape, trying to comprehend the information.

  “Wow. Now I understand why Father threatened me into it and why it is so prestigious,” she mumbled. “So Ron is rich?”

  “Yes, I think that with all the money he gets from my father, he could already buy two mansions.” She blinked, and soon a big, toothy smile appeared on her face.

  “I’ll be the best butler ever, just you wait, Young Master!” she declared.

  “Thankfully, we have no tea sets in the carriage,” Faye became even redder; her ears also weren’t safe from embarrassment. Dante didn’t want to discourage her enthusiasm, but rather ground her. That's why this joke was a little mocking, just like the ones Kelit spat on a daily basis. Why am I thinking about him now? We are not friends…or are we? – he thought and, in realisation, frowned.

  For the rest of the journey, which wasn’t very long, she yapped about books. Dante listened only half interested; he didn’t have the heart to tell her to stop. When the carriage finally rolled onto the Academy grounds, he gave her a brief explanation: that she was supposed to get out first, not offer a hand, as the noble she would attend to would tell her beforehand if they require help in getting out, and she was to just wait for him next to the doors. She looked happy that he was patient with her, even though he never once smiled.

  They went their separate ways when they entered the building. Dante decided to take care of traditions first and go greet Professor Aarav. He was in his classroom trying to prepare an alphabet on the chalkboard, probably for first-year students. That man always smiled, wore comfortable but formal clothes, and a small monocle. He was even paler than Dante, his hair and eyes dark. He gave Dante one glance with a heartfelt smile.

  “Oh, Dante, welcome, welcome.” He spoke in Andar, of course. His Common was fluent enough, as he lived in the country for quite some time already, but he still preferred using his mother-tongue, especially with those who understood it. He also didn’t address Dante as lord, because there’s no such word in the language as Andars say ‘you’re given a name for a pure purpose of being called that name’. “Give me a moment. I'll end it and be right with you.”

  “Good morning, Aarav,” Dante greeted him and leaned on his desk, waiting till he finished drawing the symbols. His way of writing was neat and easy to decipher, not like Dante’s grandfather’s.

  “It’s so nice of you that you think about me every year,” he tossed the chalk on the desk and brushed his hands, before reaching down to his bags behind his chair. “I don’t have anyone here to give these to.” He gave Dante one big gift bag full of blood rolls. “I may have gone overboard this year, though.”

  “A little, but I won’t say no to these.” Now, in turn, the young lord reached into his bag and gave the professor a little smaller gift bag with a portion of cookies that Faye helped him make.

  “Well, thank you, now I have lunch for work,” the man joked. “I guess we both have our schedules full. May you make the best of your life and memories to look back at, whether good or bad ones.”

  “Remember and cherish your dead, and may we all meet in the afterlife.” It was a usual blessing given during the celebration.

  The moment Dante left the classroom, with an additional bag in his hands, an arm dropped on his shoulders. He looked at the face that got too close for comfort to his own. When his cold gaze met the lavender eyes, he started second-guessing his life choices.

  “Did you just bribe that professor? Don’t worry, I will tell no one.”

  “I know. You don’t have any friends to gossip with.” He shook off Kelit’s arm, who looked like he wanted to retort. Before he could do that, Dante said: “It wasn’t a bribe, if you knew the basics, Andar you would have known.”

  “It sounds and looks like it was made up by a bunch of bored teenagers.” His face looked like he just ate something sour, mostly because, like Dante guessed, he was ashamed of not knowing something. As he already noticed, Kelit rarely knew things when it didn’t come to academics in which he was brilliant, a genius even. That’s why his low score only irked Dante further. He lacked most in communication and knowledge that was meant to be common. He didn’t really mean those words, he just wanted to hide his ignorance.

  “Stop insulting my second language,” Kelit tried to sling an arm over Dante’s shoulders again. It would be an easy task if he hadn't stepped out of his reach, as their heights were the same. Maybe Kelit had two centimetres more than Dante.

  “So what was that in the bag and what’s this here?” he asked, giving the gift bag a poke.

  “Have you ever heard of Death Week?” The blond man looked so lost that even his smile stopped looking like one. Dante sighed. Where exactly are you from? – he thought, everyone in the country knows the culture of not only the closest neighbour, but also the greatest political ally. He got out another small gift bag. “It’s a week when the dead and the living blend. It’s celebrated with leaving offerings for the dead on altars made for them and giving gifts to friends and family. Here.” Kelit looked at the gift like it was supposed to bite him or even eat him whole. It wasn’t just a simple surprise. “If you don’t want…”

  The second that the words left his mouth, the bag got snatched from his hand and the faint smell of cinnamon and sugar drifted out. Kelit looked inside, and his eyes widened even more.

  “And tell me you made this…” he mumbled instead of saying thanks.

  “I did.” Kelit smiled, then didn’t, and then again, the corners of his mouth went up, but not as high as usual. It was like his facial muscles didn’t know what to do in that situation. Dante wasn’t sure why, but the sight of Kelit’s uncertain smile felt heavier than he expected. For a second, he thought he saw something almost like fear. Not of him, but of what it meant to be given something. The blond man quickly covered that moment of vulnerability with a flirt:

  “I was supposed to give you a present first, Iceheart.” his usual smile returned when he said the next words: “I’ll have to give you something in return!”

  “You don’t…” Kelit dismissed his protest. Dante realised that it looked like he didn’t know that gift-giving was supposed to be an act of kindness, not an obligation.

  “So what did he give you?” It was clear that he wanted to change the subject. Dante nearly smiled when a certain idea came to mind. He will get back at Kelit.

  “A snack, but not sweet. Give it a try,” he got out two round pieces wrapped in paper. He gave one to Kelit and unwrapped the second one. It was brownish in colour with a faint red beneath the surface. Not enough for Kelit, who probably never heard of blood rolls' existence, to question it. And it smelled simply of seasoning. Dante ate his piece in one go, just to make the blond man obliged to actually try it out.

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  The snack was rich in flavour, deep and savoury. The balance of seasoning nearly completely erased the metallic blood taste. Professor Aavar must have added some chilli peppers, as it was a little spicy on the tongue. Exactly how Dante liked it.

  After studying Dante’s face, Kelit tried the snack, and at first, he must not have realised what he ate. It was clear he didn’t enjoy it, though. When he spat out the snack back to the paper, Dante knew that he tasted blood.

  “The fuck is it?!” Kelit cracked, bewildered that Dante or anyone would prank him. He didn’t look angry, just disgusted and maybe a little curious. Dante covered his face when the smile grew upon seeing that reaction. It was strange, seeing Kelit so undone over something so small. But maybe that was the point, no one had ever let Dante laugh at themselves before.

  “Blood roll,” he nearly giggled. He who never giggles. He needed to compose himself quickly as they were nearly in the classroom.

  When Kelit heard the word ‘blood’, he looked like his spirit had left his body. He must have suspected that, but the realization still hit him hard.

  “How can you eat it?” He asked, trying to forget the taste. Dante only shrugged. When they entered the classroom, it was already full of students. Only a few paid them any attention. The gossip about their relationship was still present, but it grew quieter with time. People accepted that they are mostly together.

  When they took their seats, Dante realised that someone, who was also to receive the cookies, was absent.

  “Where’s Peter?”

  “Hmm…No idea. He acted strangely over the weekend…” That was the moment when he seemed to remember something important. “I can’t believe, Dante, you made me forget why I found you so early before classes.” Kelit looked like he wanted to smack his own head. “I wanted to know more about the monster matter…”

  “I wrote in the letter that it will pass on its own.” Dante cut him off; he really didn’t want to be dragged into that mess.

  “Yeah, yeah, you addressed me as ‘Your Leech.' I’m deeply touched and all that…” The blond man blew him a kiss. “…but I want to know why? You’re a big fish; they must have given you access to the information!”

  “No,” the young lord said coldly. Kelit, for a second, looked like he was denied a toy, but the smile that made Dante’s skin prickle appeared.

  That smile was something that Dante had seen for the first time aimed at him, and it made him freeze. It was predatory, not mockingly, also knowing and lewd in all the ways it was physically possible. Kelit got closer, putting one of his hands on Dante’s desk. He backed him to the windowsill. A small blush crept onto Dante’s cheeks; he didn’t know what to think, and it was his first time in a situation like this.

  “No? Oh come now, Ice…heart…” he made a pause, and the nickname sounded a little wrong, like he was second-guessing it. “Help YOUR LEECH a little. Ask them just for me.” He said those words so loudly that some of the students looked directly at them. Seeing their close position, the smile on Kelit's face, it wasn’t hard to guess what their first thoughts were. That’s his plan… – Dante grit his teeth, desperately trying not to show any reaction to how badly Kelit just got behind his skin.

  “I’ll ask, back off,” the second he said it, the blond man backed off, with his normal smile now plastered on.

  “Great thanks…Chillpurr.”

  What did he call me? What’s with this guy? – Dante's face grew slightly hotter at the sudden change of a nickname.

  “What now?” He voiced his confusion while Kelit winked at him.

  “Just checking what fits.”

  “Oh wow. Why do I always miss the best moments?!” Dante heard a noise next to his ear. It took a moment to restrain his impulses to look at Iza, who had just appeared. “What have you done to get a new nickname?” It was such a good question. One that he would also like to know the answer to.

  Peter entered the room with the professor in tow. He looked strangely tired and alert. Dante could read from his face like from an open book. It was clear that something wasn’t right with the young commoner. He didn’t even say ‘hi’ to Kelit as he took his place next to him. The blond man in turn gave him a quick, confused glance, before brushing it off.

  Dante decided not to bother him any further and just put a gift bag on his desk. While he was reaching his hand there, he nudged Kelit with his elbow by accident. A little payback, he would like to think. I’m so petty. – he sighed. Peter appeared to be too stunned to speak, but when he realised that Kelit had a similar bag, he nodded his head in quiet thanks. His smile was a little strained, but still showed up on his unusually pale face.

  Not long after the lecture started, Dante wasn’t sure what it was, but something wasn’t right with Kelit. The man still wasn’t listening to the lecture, but this time, he wasn’t observing Dante, nor was he doodling. He looked like something had weighed on his mind and clearly wasn’t about to share his thoughts with anyone.

  In the diplomatic major’s classes, it was as if the lavender-eyed man completely ignored his own field. Thankfully, he listened to those lectures, not interested at first, but apparently, Bernadette’s strangeness captured him in the end. That much, he even made notes, like actual notes. Dante had to admit that his way of writing was neat and clean. The kind that professors achieve after years of teaching.

  On the damned break, Kelit made sure that Dante would actually talk to Alera. He followed him to her new, self-made office on the back of the library. The smell of books and coffee, which, if you were a student, wasn’t allowed in, filled the air. She got some special treatment from the librarian.

  The moment she saw Dante, she stood up and saluted, while at the same time brushing her bangs from her forehead.

  “Greetings, Lord Crimson,” she didn’t ignore Kelit, only gave him a brief nod.

  “Greetings, Captain. I would like to know more about the monsters that appeared." He said, his tone flat, not even a small trace of curiosity in sight.

  “Are you sure that it is you who’s curious?” She looked him up and down. When he shrugged, she shook her head slightly. Then she looked straight at the blond man. The look she gave him could send a shiver down her soldiers’ spines, but Kelit didn’t even react. Her brows furrowed a little, like she wanted to ask questions, but that look quickly disappeared from her face. She probably decided it was too troublesome even to ask. “And who might you be?” She posed that question instead.

  Kelit smirked, definitely up to no good. “His bodyguard, Captain.” He made a mocking salute gesture.

  She didn’t catch the bait, only looked between them and deadpanned: “Are you sure it’s not the other way around?”

  Dante was sure she guessed that he was a commoner. His attire wasn’t as neat as Dante’s, and his hair looked dishevelled that day. Not that it took away from his charming smiles, it may even add some allure. The young lord was sure that he was just too lazy to brush them in the morning.

  He looked at the lavender-eyed man, who wasn’t smiling anymore. Could Alera’s words be the reason? But it was just a simple assumption. She probably didn’t mean anything deeper.

  “I’ll have to leave you with the papers I gathered. It’s not much. Just old death certificates and documents from the coroner. They are a little…outdated as coroners at that time were new to our country, and it also doesn’t hold much information, not even where the bodies were found. The academy back then looked a little different. I had an idea to check all the locations that are now closed or unused. The librarian was supposed to give me old construction design documents after I returned from the routine check. I’ll tell her to bring them to you now.” She explained, taking her jacket from the back of her seat. “If I didn’t know you, Young Lord, I wouldn't have left you with it. I trust you will not attempt anything reckless.” Before continuing, she looked straight at Kelit, who was still in thought. “And keep your...friend close.”

  Dante sighed. Did she guess that he wouldn't take no for an answer? It’s such a pain. – he nodded to her as she passed him on her way to do more work, the kind she clearly enjoyed more than research. He decided to take her seat; he didn’t even take a single glance at the documents on the desk. He still wasn’t interested. He waited for Kelit to approach, but he was still, like he was glued to that place.

  “Hey, you wanted to know about it, not me.” When the man didn’t react, Dante tried a different approach. “Earth to you, Leech!”

  “Hmm..?” For a moment, Dante was taken aback that he actually reacted to that nickname. What normal person would react to a leech?! – he thought.

  “Your research awaits!” It was like those words awakened Kelit. He dragged a chair with speed that was compared to a lightning. He didn’t even invade Dante’s personal space; he actually sat opposite him. He started with reading Alera’s notes, which were in a simple notebook that lacked far too many pages, which were all scattered around the desk, torn out, and crumbled. Definitely not fruitful research.

  He was silent, not even one flirty or mocking comment. He actually appeared composed and focused, like this was his element. His eyes seem to follow every word that was written and analyse it. It was strange to see him without that charming mask, but who could have known if this wasn’t yet another one? Put on to give his mind a moment of peace from whatever was plaguing him that day.

  He didn’t even look up when the librarian arrived, cluttering the desk with rolled maps and papers. She knocked out a pile of death certificates, not so neatly stored in a folder as if the one who read them before was about to return to them. When she bent down, Dante decided to help her gather those documents.

  He involuntarily read a few names of the deceased. For a second, he thought his eyes were playing tricks on him. It surely couldn't have been the Izodora he knew. When the woman left, he started reading the coroner's report.

  ‘Izodora Backer – Could it be a reason she acted strangely when he read the Duke’s letter? – died at the age of twenty, killed by ???Monster??? (a fu… – the word has been crossed out – big one, what could make that cut? And where’s the other half?) Cause of death: heart attack/shock (thankfully). The upper half of the body that was found doesn’t have any visible signs of struggle or fighting. She might have died before being cut in half (at least I hope so, otherwise I don’t want to imagine…). The bottom half wasn’t found (honestly, I wouldn't blame them if they hadn’t even looked for it).’ – That was all of the report.

  “Who the fuck admitted it as an official document?” Dante was livid. It held no useful information, just that only half the body had been found. Now he could understand Alera’s frustration.

  Kelit looked at him, brows tightened, probably wondering why he was suddenly interested in the subject.

  “Did you find something?” he asked, sincerely curious. That was the only emotion Dante could truly tie to the man’s real character.

  “Only the strange death,” while lying, he didn’t look him in the eyes and passed him the document. Dante wasn’t sure what to think. If Iza already knew that the things that were happening could be similar to when she died, why didn’t she tell him? After reading, Kelit appeared even more curious…and happy?

  “What could cut someone in half? Normal monsters can dismember the body, but not like that, and they usually just leave some scraps…” he was thinking out loud, and Dante started to wonder if compassion had left the building or just never was there. He looked over at Dante and when he saw the look that he gave him, his face changed from excitement to genuine confusion. The same expression that he had that day when Peter pointed out that he acts out of place. “What? What dead is dead.”

  Dante didn’t want to argue. What Kelit said was true, in a way, but not eternally. If he’d known even a little about Andar beliefs, Dante might have tried to explain. But it was too much, all at once.

  “Well, it’s only one way of thinking. I don’t share that belief,” he just said, because Kelit was clearly expecting an answer.

  “Then what do you think?” Dante was too surprised to control his facial expression, it was the first time that the man ever asked him about something that wasn’t shallow or in his personal interest.

  “I think that what you say is true, what dead is dead, but the memories are what’s important. And that memory is…disturbing, not exciting.” Dante could not be objective as Iza was his closest friend and it was like Kelit dismissed the tragedy of her death, but he couldn't be really angry at him. It seemed that no one taught him to value memories or the dead.

  The blond man appeared conflicted upon hearing it. He simply said nothing and came back to his reading. Not voicing any questions nor possible explanations. The silence was where an apology should have been.

  When Dante thought how to approach Iza, who always hated talking about her death, Kelit started mumbling. It was mostly curses directed at the coroners from eighty years ago and lack of information. He reached for the maps.

  “That’s much bigger than what it is now. If Miss Captain wants to search all those areas I wish her luck!” Dante stood up to take a look. He rested his hands on the back of his chair. The blond man looked up at him and distanced himself a little, but Dante brushed it off taking the look at the maps.

  He couldn't just guess where exactly Iza was killed. There were too many possibilities. The realisation that his best friend of four years never told him what killed her nor where just crashed on his shoulders and hard. Could he really say that he knows her? She omitted those important facts purposefully, he was sure of it.

  He bent down a little further to see more clearly the old buildings plans, apparently there was a whole compartment underneath their feet.

  “If you wanted to get close, you could have just ask, Frostbite.”

  That was the moment when Dante realised how close he was to Kelit. It was completely unintentional and he quickly retreated back to his seat. The blond smiled like a very happy fox and again with a new nickname, probably still testing ‘what fits’.