Two weeks passed. Spring believed she was doing great. She had finished the first tempering of her body, with the second one underway. Thanks to natural regeneration and by pinching bits of mana here and there, she had filled two crystal coins with scarlet mana, for a total of three.
She would have saved more, but she noticed her flame-flower had started drawing more mana from her body last week, and last night, even the second-voice, second-teeth, and second-ears, which should normally operate without mana, began draining some, which led her to a disquieting realization.
I can’t use marble steed blood to substitute human blood, Spring concluded after the docile grafts started stealing her energy to survive. But I don’t remember a specific stipulation of needing human blood. In my memories, all I recall is that I need blood. I recall buying it in a store run by a human. Did humans sell human blood? What’s going on?
No. My memory is faulty, but even that is not important. I’m all out of blood, and withdrawal is in progress. Worse, my body isn’t cleansing itself properly because of the beast blood I have coursing through my xylem. I have made a mistake.
Spring got up from bed, went to the bathroom, and retched half a liter of diluted blood down the composter, then watered herself in the shower.
This is bad. I have three weeks left to find some human blood. Otherwise, I’m dead. No. It’s not that horrible. I can grow four second-faces in two weeks, murder someone, drain their blood, and assume their identity. How do I handle missing memories? That’s not important either right now, I could target loners, or senile old people. I will start growing those second-faces today, just in case. Once they mature, I can make hollows beneath my breasts and keep them for emergencies.
As Spring washed her false skin, she racked her brains with what to do. Finally, concluding her best bet was to find someone with a hunter spouse, or single parent, and slay them while the hunter is away on duty. That way, she would have enough blood for another month or two, and she could return to being Young Miss Searing, if she found a good enough excuse to disappear from everyone’s sight for several hours.
I could just murder someone and drain their blood. That’s a much simpler solution. Spring reduced the complexity of her task, but found herself faced with another problem. Whom could she safely kill?
Spring patted herself dry with a fluffy towel, and returned to her room. She was about to touch the voice-linker’s top leaf, when she froze. How stupid. Ash Searing is still in his and Harnna’s bed. The woman warned me to chime her only after returning from hunter school, when Ash is away.
Spring turned around and entered her wardrobe. She donned the exercise clothes for the day before summoning the maids and her breakfast. Like every day, she ate, then left for the library for an hour before catching the carriage to school.
The hours of training stretched into days as Spring thought of nothing but returning to the estate and having a chime with Jasmine’s mother.
When she got back, she barely stopped herself from running into her room. However, she reined in her emotions, and walked calmly before closing the door. Despite her self-discipline, she headed straight for the voice-linker and activated the applant.
The trumpet sounded with soft chimes as Spring silently counted the seconds. On the count of nineteen, Harnna’s voice echoed from the applant, “Yes?”
“Mother, it’s me,” Spring said, knowing full well that Harnna had already guessed the caller’s identity. “I wish to hire a personal maid. Am I allowed to do that?”
“Why, I’m fine. Thank you for asking. Yes, my dear daughter, it really has been several days since we last heard each other’s voice. I missed you too.”
Spring rolled her eyes at the sarcasm. “How are you doing, Mother? I missed you.”
“You’re talking like a trained puppy, not like a Searing. Where’s your spine?”
Oh, stuff it. Folk have no bones.
“I don’t know what to say.” Spring colored her voice with frustration. “I tried not to disturb you with pointless requests. I know you know everything I do, and you chime me when anything interests you. Per your request, I have forfeited mana refinement, and I believe I have done everything you asked of me. What do you want me to do? I don’t even know what you look like.”
“Alright, alright, stop it.” Harnna dismissed her daughter’s tantrum. “Why do you need a maid? Aren’t the regular serving girls enough?”
Yup, that was the logical question. Jasmine Searing as she is right now needs no personal attendants. Luckily, I thought that through.
“I need someone to help me overcome my fear of blood. Yesterday a boy in my class scraped his skin throwing a stone weight. He didn’t even notice, but I almost vomited at the sight, and I felt queasy seeing the red paint on an instructor’s forehead. The next expedition to the weald is in two weeks, and there may be injuries. I may die if I faint at the sight of blood.”
Harnna remained quiet and the silent seconds stretched.
Come on, ask the obvious question.
“How can a maid help you?” Harnna finally asked, and Spring nodded.
“I will bleed her bit by bit, trying to get used to blood.”
“Sure, I’ll send a maid to your room. It sounds like a good plan, but why would you hire someone new just for that?”
Because I’m stupid and didn’t think I could openly order family maids to stand still while I bleed them for my personal gain.
“Just make sure not to overdo it. Scratches at most. They are women, used to bleeding, but they still need to work,” Harnna added. “Should you get used to small amounts of blood, we could take you to an abattoir for further training.”
“Yes, Mother. Thank you.” Spring paused for a second. “How was your day?”
“You have lost all your social grace, Jass. It was dull and uneventful, as most days. I drew yet another botched landscape, which I fed to the heater. My drawing skills were horrid ever since I was a child, but after mastering everything else I decided…” Harnna spoke for another ten minutes, and Spring obediently listened before bidding Jasmine’s mother goodbye.
I can bleed the maids? Why didn’t I think of that? There are twelve of them, and while they can’t sustain me without raising suspicion, they can buy me a week or two for now.
A shuddering maid entered Spring’s room shortly after her talk with Harnna, and Spring had her fetch a sharp knife, bandages, and a white vessel half-full of water.
“Strip. Don’t worry. I’ll scratch your thigh a bit, and that’s it for now. Unless I tell you otherwise you will let the blood flow freely. If I start acting irrationally, cover the wound and the blood with a bandage until the bleeding stops, then throw the bandage into the water and leave the room. Do you understand?”
The maid nodded, her face pale.
“Then, strip,” Spring said, and the plump maid obeyed, leaving nothing but plain white underwear to protect her decency as she trembled.
Spring slashed her thigh, making the shallow incision so quickly the girl yelped only after Spring had retreated a step.
Sanguine beads welled, forming five pearls which then rolled down the pale, shaven leg, leaving five crooked, vertical lines.
Spring’s eyes remained fixed on the rolling globules of blood as she focused on manipulating her second-face, painting her complexion paler and paler.
“Young Miss, are you alright?” the maid asked, the slight tingle of Spring’s slash already forgotten.
“I-I’m fine. Clean that up, and I will make a new cut,” Spring stuttered while speaking, her voice shaking in fabricated terror.
The maid did as ordered and cleaned her leg, throwing the used bandage into the water, from which a red nebula spread, invading the transparent liquid. As the smoke-like tendrils stretched, slithering further, they grew pale, eventually painting the whole ceramic bowl a shade between orange and pink.
That’s nothing, thirty to forty drops. I need to make a deeper cut on the other leg.
“Thank you.” Spring whipped sweat from her brows and approached the maid. The scared young woman watched the blade in Spring’s hand. Just a moment ago it was steady, but once Spring started quivering, the blade trembled in her hand.
The maid was about to beg for mercy when Spring lashed out, making a deep cut. The woman shrieked, and blood gushed out of the wound.
Spring also screamed. She fell on her rear, dropping the knife to the hardwood floor. As the blade clattered, Spring crawled backwards, pushing herself with her arms and legs, screaming all the while.
Barely a second had passed before the maid pressed a bandage against the cut, but her entire leg was painted red.
That should be enough blood to last me a day or two.
Two weeks passed. Spring believed she was doing great. She had finished the first tempering of her body, with the second one underway. Thanks to natural regeneration and by pinching bits of mana here and there, she had filled two crystal coins with scarlet mana, for a total of three.
She would have saved more, but she noticed her flame-flower had started drawing more mana from her body last week, and last night, even the second-voice, second-teeth, and second-ears, which should normally operate without mana, began draining some, which led her to a disquieting realization.
I can’t use marble steed blood to substitute human blood, Spring concluded after the docile grafts started stealing her energy to survive. But I don’t remember a specific stipulation of needing human blood. In my memories, all I recall is that I need blood. I recall buying it in a store run by a human. Did humans sell human blood? What’s going on?
No. My memory is faulty, but even that is not important. I’m all out of blood, and withdrawal is in progress. Worse, my body isn’t cleansing itself properly because of the beast blood I have coursing through my xylem. I have made a mistake.
Spring got up from bed, went to the bathroom, and retched half a liter of diluted blood down the composter, then watered herself in the shower.
This is bad. I have three weeks left to find some human blood. Otherwise, I’m dead. No. It’s not that horrible. I can grow four second-faces in two weeks, murder someone, drain their blood, and assume their identity. How do I handle missing memories? That’s not important either right now, I could target loners, or senile old people. I will start growing those second-faces today, just in case. Once they mature, I can make hollows beneath my breasts and keep them for emergencies.
As Spring washed her false skin, she racked her brains with what to do. Finally, concluding her best bet was to find someone with a hunter spouse, or single parent, and slay them while the hunter is away on duty. That way, she would have enough blood for another month or two, and she could return to being Young Miss Searing, if she found a good enough excuse to disappear from everyone’s sight for several hours.
I could just murder someone and drain their blood. That’s a much simpler solution. Spring reduced the complexity of her task, but found herself faced with another problem. Whom could she safely kill?
Spring patted herself dry with a fluffy towel, and returned to her room. She was about to touch the voice-linker’s top leaf, when she froze. How stupid. Ash Searing is still in his and Harnna’s bed. The woman warned me to chime her only after returning from hunter school, when Ash is away.
Spring turned around and entered her wardrobe. She donned the exercise clothes for the day before summoning the maids and her breakfast. Like every day, she ate, then left for the library for an hour before catching the carriage to school.
The hours of training stretched into days as Spring thought of nothing but returning to the estate and having a chime with Jasmine’s mother.
When she got back, she barely stopped herself from running into her room. However, she reined in her emotions, and walked calmly before closing the door. Despite her self-discipline, she headed straight for the voice-linker and activated the applant.
The trumpet sounded with soft chimes as Spring silently counted the seconds. On the count of nineteen, Harnna’s voice echoed from the applant, “Yes?”
“Mother, it’s me,” Spring said, knowing full well that Harnna had already guessed the caller’s identity. “I wish to hire a personal maid. Am I allowed to do that?”
“Why, I’m fine. Thank you for asking. Yes, my dear daughter, it really has been several days since we last heard each other’s voice. I missed you too.”
Spring rolled her eyes at the sarcasm. “How are you doing, Mother? I missed you.”
“You’re talking like a trained puppy, not like a Searing. Where’s your spine?”
Oh, stuff it. Folk have no bones.
“I don’t know what to say.” Spring colored her voice with frustration. “I tried not to disturb you with pointless requests. I know you know everything I do, and you chime me when anything interests you. Per your request, I have forfeited mana refinement, and I believe I have done everything you asked of me. What do you want me to do? I don’t even know what you look like.”
“Alright, alright, stop it.” Harnna dismissed her daughter’s tantrum. “Why do you need a maid? Aren’t the regular serving girls enough?”
Yup, that was the logical question. Jasmine Searing as she is right now needs no personal attendants. Luckily, I thought that through.
“I need someone to help me overcome my fear of blood. Yesterday a boy in my class scraped his skin throwing a stone weight. He didn’t even notice, but I almost vomited at the sight, and I felt queasy seeing the red paint on an instructor’s forehead. The next expedition to the weald is in two weeks, and there may be injuries. I may die if I faint at the sight of blood.”
Harnna remained quiet and the silent seconds stretched.
Come on, ask the obvious question.
“How can a maid help you?” Harnna finally asked, and Spring nodded.
“I will bleed her bit by bit, trying to get used to blood.”
“Sure, I’ll send a maid to your room. It sounds like a good plan, but why would you hire someone new just for that?”
Because I’m stupid and didn’t think I could openly order family maids to stand still while I bleed them for my personal gain.
“Just make sure not to overdo it. Scratches at most. They are women, used to bleeding, but they still need to work,” Harnna added. “Should you get used to small amounts of blood, we could take you to an abattoir for further training.”
“Yes, Mother. Thank you.” Spring paused for a second. “How was your day?”
“You have lost all your social grace, Jass. It was dull and uneventful, as most days. I drew yet another botched landscape, which I fed to the heater. My drawing skills were horrid ever since I was a child, but after mastering everything else I decided…” Harnna spoke for another ten minutes, and Spring obediently listened before bidding Jasmine’s mother goodbye.
I can bleed the maids? Why didn’t I think of that? There are twelve of them, and while they can’t sustain me without raising suspicion, they can buy me a week or two for now.
A shuddering maid entered Spring’s room shortly after her talk with Harnna, and Spring had her fetch a sharp knife, bandages, and a white vessel half-full of water.
“Strip. Don’t worry. I’ll scratch your thigh a bit, and that’s it for now. Unless I tell you otherwise you will let the blood flow freely. If I start acting irrationally, cover the wound and the blood with a bandage until the bleeding stops, then throw the bandage into the water and leave the room. Do you understand?”
The maid nodded, her face pale.
“Then, strip,” Spring said, and the plump maid obeyed, leaving nothing but plain white underwear to protect her decency as she trembled.
Spring slashed her thigh, making the shallow incision so quickly the girl yelped only after Spring had retreated a step.
Sanguine beads welled, forming five pearls which then rolled down the pale, shaven leg, leaving five crooked, vertical lines.
Spring’s eyes remained fixed on the rolling globules of blood as she focused on manipulating her second-face, painting her complexion paler and paler.
“Young Miss, are you alright?” the maid asked, the slight tingle of Spring’s slash already forgotten.
“I-I’m fine. Clean that up, and I will make a new cut,” Spring stuttered while speaking, her voice shaking in fabricated terror.
The maid did as ordered and cleaned her leg, throwing the used bandage into the water, from which a red nebula spread, invading the transparent liquid. As the smoke-like tendrils stretched, slithering further, they grew pale, eventually painting the whole ceramic bowl a shade between orange and pink.
That’s nothing, thirty to forty drops. I need to make a deeper cut on the other leg.
“Thank you.” Spring whipped sweat from her brows and approached the maid. The scared young woman watched the blade in Spring’s hand. Just a moment ago it was steady, but once Spring started quivering, the blade trembled in her hand.
The maid was about to beg for mercy when Spring lashed out, making a deep cut. The woman shrieked, and blood gushed out of the wound.
Spring also screamed. She fell on her rear, dropping the knife to the hardwood floor. As the blade clattered, Spring crawled backwards, pushing herself with her arms and legs, screaming all the while.
Barely a second had passed before the maid pressed a bandage against the cut, but her entire leg was painted red.
That should be enough blood to last me a day or two.
