Chapter 22: Meeting The Heroine [1]
There was, however, a single, terrifying complication.
The heroine, Lilithia, reserved a special, burning hatred for Cressida - one that dwarfed her animosity toward Agrona.
Cressida had to psych herself up. "Let’s do it for the plot," she mentally repeated. "Right?"
║[SYSTEM CONFIRMATION]║
║You have selected: Event #2 — "The Heroine’s Lost Route"║
║Initializing narrative override...║
║Reconstructing anomaly thread...║
║Locating designated heroine within corrupted storyline...║
║Status: Success.║
║Warning: The further you delve, the thinner the boundary between roles becomes.║
║[Objective Updated] — Find the heroine before the system collapses her route into null data.║
Much to her dismay, Genevieve hadn’t left the room.
"Why are you still here?" Cressida demanded.
"Oh, right," the woman smirked, a viperous look in her eyes. "While you’re permitted to go outside, I’ve been assigned to ’babysit’ you. I go where you go."
"Fuck," Cressida muttered. "A-Are you sure?" she asked, a forced note of politeness in her voice. "I’m just going to the library!"
Genevieve merely offered a chilling reminder. "You’re still indebted to me."
"Ah..." Cressida slumped.
She had no choice.
Minutes later, she was dressed modestly, her face shielded by a wide-brimmed lady’s hat, the garment carefully chosen to appease Agrona, she was ready.
It was an untenable position. She was about to be flanked by a key love interest (Genevieve), run into the heroine who wished her dead, all while being unknowingly married to the most powerful villainess.
Story of my life.
They went downstairs to the waiting carriage. As she stepped in, Cressida caught the sight of the assembled servants.
Their undisguised contempt was a familiar sting.
No one, from the staff to the readers, had ever wanted Cressida to live.
Well, surprise, surprise, motherfuckers. I’m alive as the eternal sun of the Light Tide.
The carriage lurched forward, and the simple motion alone brought Cressida a profound, undescribable relief. It had been so long since she’d felt anything that moved, since she’d inhaled the fresh, unfiltered air after her confinement in that bedroom.
She slumped against the velvet seat, taking a deep, restorative breath. "At least I’m outside, I guess."
"Good for you," Genevieve muttered. "But credit where it’s due: thanks for not ratting me out to Her Imperial Highness. I never said I wanted this babysitting duty, though."
"Yeah, yeah," Cressida said, rolling her eyes, then extended her unrestrained wrist toward the woman.
Genevieve flinched, pulling back slightly. "What?"
"My payment for making you babysit," Cressida clarified.
Surprisingly, Genevieve offered no whine or argument. She took the opportunity, her hand firmly gripping Cressida’s wrist.
With surprising precision, she adjusted the angle until the veins were prominently exposed, then dragged her tongue across the skin.
Cressida’s face instantly flared crimson. "W-What are you doing?!"
The irony was unbearable. Vampires were the true perverts, not her!
"What?" Genevieve answered, without looking up. "A vampire’s saliva contains a property that softens the tissue, which, in turn, makes the bite hurt less."
"U-Ugh," Cressida groaned, turning her head away and hiding her burning face with her free hand. "I don’t know why you care, just drink!"
"If you say so. It was for my sake anyway."
Genevieve leaned closer and swiftly pricked the girl’s wrist with her fangs.
A gush of sweet crimson immediately coated her mouth, leaving her craving more.
She gulped the blood down again and again, her breath growing warm and ragged.
It sounded so incredibly lewd.
She finally pulled back and delicately wiped her lips. "You’ll owe me more soon."
Cressida was speechless.
She had only ever been the casual reader of these trashy, erotic vampire novels, yet now she was personally experiencing the explicit drama.
"W-Whatever..." she muttered, still unable to face Genevieve.