“Good morning young—“Mr. Harley gaped in confusion, tilting his head as the old stout pondered “master?” there was a change in his tone.

The man in question strode gallantly down the stairs, buttoning the cufflink on his white, chiffon dress shirt that silhouetted his glorious flesh. “Good morning to you too”

The old stout, rude as it may be, clicked his tongue as he squirmed at the reddish purple stain that clearly popped out in contrast to the young man’s porcelain neck. He had so many questions to ask so as to how Kris acquired that mark but, instead, he brushed the idea “How is Mr. Han?”

“Alive and well” Kris replied dryly, remembering how Lu Han took advantage of the situation that occurred last night and is now slacking off as a result “very well” he murmured quietly. “Can you please grab my coat, Mr. Harley?” Kris changed the topic “And please tell the coachman to prepare the carriage.”

“May I ask where you are off to, sir?” Mr. Harley questioned while handing the wool trench coat to the towering man before him. The master servant eyed the young master’s clothes “The winter is nearing, I am afraid you’ll catch a cold from the autumn wind”

The blonde, understanding the real meaning of the butler’s words judging by where his eyes were, only smiled back “Fear not, walking around the city centre will warm me up.”

“Then” Mr. Harley contemplated, “at least wear gloves, especially when you decide on wearing that”

Mr. Harley was referring to the ring Kris was fiddling. It is a gold signet ring, engraved with the Munteanu family crest. The current Lord Munteanu had given this signet to the young Wellesley heir on his thirteenth birthday. With the knowledge that it bore no significance to the Wellesley household, Lord Munteanu persuaded young Kris to take it in case he happens to return to Romania. “I reckon you have something much more to do other that shopping” he continued.

“I wouldn’t have thought I will be using this but, it seems uncle was right” Kris replied as he puts the leather gloves on his slender fingers. “What I am about to do will require a little bit of exploitation of power. Not that I have never done it” recalling his investigations or as the Scotland Yard would like to address it, ‘interventions’, back in London. “Anyhow, please tell Lu Han to be ready before I get back and…” he added “also tell him to bring his kit”

“Mr. Han’s work, hobby as he wants it to be called” the old butler says as he helps Kris with his coat “reminds me of the master of the house. He could pursue science just like your uncle”

The blonde shook his head “My uncle is beyond obsessed with his work. If vampires exist, it is possible he’ll be the Victor Frankenstein of this day. One mad doctor is enough”

Mr. Harley gave a sympathetic laugh “Oh dear” he wiped the tears on his wrinkled eyes as he reminisces Lord Munteanu locking himself into the basements carrying on experiments. Kris was right, engrossed wouldn’t be a befitting word to describe how passionate the master was, even leaving his castle to tend to bodies all over the world. Although he is renowned in the art of medicine, he is not the kind of doctor you can take prescriptions from.

Calming down, the old butler exhaled deeply and gave a concerned smile. “Young master” there was a hint of worry in his voice “Why must you do this?”

“I somehow figured something out while looking into uncle’s existing records. All I have to do is piece the puzzle together”

“You mean you figured out the enigma behind the deaths over decades— even centuries?” Mr. Harley’s eyed widened “Why don’t you let the local sheriffs take care of this matter? This could be dangerous”

“The local sheriffs couldn’t figure this out centuries ago, what makes you think they can now? The belief of vampires and the proof of the unexplained gives them more reason that there is something out there to bring them to their graves. The people here have become shadowed by the fear of the unknown that no one would dare to find out the truth.” Kris explained “It is easy to feast when there is fear, because fear petrifies you.”

“Dear” Mr. Harley’s heart started to sink as he dreaded the thought of Kris handling this situation alone “Lord Munteanu raised you like the child he never had, and I fondly took care of you to grow as an outstanding man just as your father. Know that the Munteanu household will always be willing to fight your fight.” Mr. Harley raised his head like a proud father, “If you are successful, we, the people, are forever indebted to you.”

Kris shook his head once again “There is no need to credit me. I came here for a vacation, and never have I rested once. I want to get this over with, let this case die, and for it to return to a myth as it should be— a story”

“You are going to risk your life” Mr. Harley contradicted as he watches Kris’ tall figure now striding between the stoned halls of the castle “even gratitude will not amount to the people you are going to save”

“Mr. Harley” Kris turned before stepping into the outside world “I never let myself into something I am not able to do”

The last thing Mr. Harley saw was the silhouette of Kris’ wool trench coat slowly disappearing into the light.

“What a lucky lady”

“Pardon?” Kris shifted towards the coachman as he loads the last box into the carriage.

“Forgive me for being nosy sir, but” the coachman scratched his nape in the process “I noticed we’ve only entered shops for women. There is no feminine presence at the castle so I figured it might be a gift for a lady.”

There’s one who passed for a lady. Kris kept quiet still.

“And I heard there will be a gathering tonight at the Bator castle, is that for the Lady of the household?” the coachman continued, but his cheeky grin did not escape Kris’ observing eyes.

“Hardly” Kris replied dryly.

Figuring that the conversation will no longer continue, the coachman asked another question “Where do we go next, sir?”

“I wish to go to the tavern”

“Which tavern?”

“The Tavern” Kris said sternly.

The coachman crooked his eyebrows, finally understanding what the young master meant “You mean The Tavern?” in which Kris replied with a firm ‘Yes’.

The Tavern was not the most famous tavern of the town but it had a reputation. It may look like a normal tavern hidden deep within the district but during the night, half of it functions as a brothel. It was around dusk and people started gathering after a day’s worth of work. The town was bustling and the district lamps filled the town like the night stars.

“Do you want me to come along, young master?” the coachman offered.

“No” Kris replied “I’ll be quick”

Today had been the most peculiar day for the coachman, he thought. He, too, had known the young master for a long time but he didn’t think London would shape him in an odd way. It was strange for a man to purchase garments of women’s clothing and it is surely strange for a man to go purposely to an infamous tavern while the sun is still barely out. Yes, Kris did grow up to be a fine young man but maybe London made him a womanizer.

“May I speak to one of your employees here?” Kris spoke as he sat on the bar counter.

“Depends who is asking for who” the man, Kris concluded, was the master and owner of the tavern. He was averagely tall but muscular. He had a gruff expression and the two scars— one across the right eye and one on the nose, was an indication of a former soldier.

Kris leaned on the countertop “Mihaela Dalca”

The master shook his head “Impossible.”

“Why?” There was disinterest in Kris’ tone “The girls live upstairs, do they not?”

“She is one of the top girls in the brothel” The master reasoned, annoyance was clear in his tone “even rich people can’t get their hands on her”

“How much?” Kris was unaffected by the approach.

“Look, young man.” The grumpy master put his hands against the counter, leaning towards Kris as if threatening to crush the blonde. “I know you are educated but no is a—“

His eyes directed at the ring on Kris’ left little finger. The Munteanu crest was critical for the local townspeople. Most land properties are owned by the family, including The Tavern. Being affiliated with the Munteanu family is either bad or good, and denying Kris access will definitely result to worst.

“You were saying?”

The master cleared his throat. Breathing deeply as if he just stepped on a landmine “Before I decide on anything rash, how are you going to prove that you are not a fraud? We are all aware Lord Munteanu does not have a son or any known heir.”

“Feel free to take a closer look with a candle” Kris said confidently. The signet was embellished with four greenish gems across the crest. As soon as the master inched the candle closer, the gems shifted their color from green to almost red “Zultanite, one of the rarest gems in the world. It is distinctive for its ability to shift colors on different spectrums of light. Only real Munteanu signets have these gems”

The master, sighing in defeat, shifted his head towards the wooden door beside the counter. “Mihaela is on the farthest booth down the hall”

Mihaela Dalca was a brunette lady with green eyes and about five foot two in height. Kris guessed she’s around mid thirties, or either her aging process began earlier caused by dark circles from rustic eyeliner work and wrinkling eyes that was barely covered with makeup. Her features weren’t very distinct, with the exception of two scarred holes on her neck that was emphasized by her side braid. “A little early, aren’t we?” she started.

Without wasting time, Kris sat on the chair across her and pulled a photograph from his trench coat. He laid the black and white photograph on the table for her to see “Do you still possess this?”

“What is that?” Mihaela barely batted an eye before blowing on the cigar she’s holding.

“This is a piece of cloth from your dress when you were attacked twenty years ago. I examined your case and found out that this isn’t your blood. Apparently, it was your attacker’s, the vampire’s blood.”