"Pet."
That was exactly it.
The term "Master" used to address her.
Bored at home alone, young Avril had once kept a canary. That was nearly all she remembered about the word "pet." But that lovely bird had flown away years ago. She’d taken it out of the treehouse to play outside, ignoring her father’s warning to lock it in its cage. Perhaps the bird craved freedom. Or perhaps untamable pets held no real affection. Either way, Avril felt a deep loss for a long time.
"Even if it hadn’t flown away," her father had whispered, gently stroking her head, "canaries are short-lived. They can’t stay with you forever." Birds’ lifespans were shorter than humans’, let alone Bloodkin. Even the elves deep in the Fairy Forest couldn’t match their longevity. "How about I buy you another pet this time?"
Avril hadn’t answered. Rebuilding that bond felt impossible. Or maybe she’d understood his meaning. Bloodkin were lonely by nature, beyond family. As her father said, even if the bird stayed, it would only last a few years. For a Bloodkin, that was far too short.
Now, Avril saw "pet" differently. The canary was her pet. She was her Master’s pet. But… she didn’t want to be one. No wonder the canary had flown away after escaping the house and cage. It hadn’t wanted to be a pet either. The innocent Vampire Lolita felt wronged yet guilty for caging it against its will.
"This little one is cute," Mefia murmured, reluctantly pulling her hand from Avril’s cheek. She glanced at the black-haired Maid who’d followed her in. As Princess of the Lor Empire, Mefia had grown up adored. The empire practiced monarchy and slavery, so "slave" wasn’t foreign to her. But it carried vulgar, inferior connotations—she rarely sought contact. Limited exposure didn’t mean ignorance, though. Elves in the Fairy Forest, or scattered beastkin tribes like the Catfolk, had rare traits that appealed to certain tastes. Catfolk girls, for instance, were prized by human nobles. Slave traders and mercenaries had hunted them to near extinction near the Lor Empire. Each fetched a sky-high price at auction. Their beauty, sweet voices, and cuteness made them irresistible collectibles—even for women without specific fetishes.
Princess Mefia had a secret hobby: she liked girls. She scorned the empire’s decadent nobles, yet she wasn’t pure herself. She’d secretly slept with catgirls before. As Lor Empire’s Princess, sampling noble luxuries before adulthood seemed harmless. She didn’t indulge deeply—magic, etiquette, and ruling preparations came first. Seeking joy in her fleeting human life was necessary.
Oh, and Mefia’s grandmother had been captured from the elves. Elves were rare and long-lived. Whether her grandfather sought better bloodlines or just a bed slave, Lor rulers now carried elven blood. It granted them longer lives, stabilizing the empire. Bloodkin were rarer still. Few in number, they hid well. Millennia with humans had honed their camouflage. Their longevity and power crushed ordinary humans. Even if located, few could capture them—let alone a juvenile like this one.
"No fangs, no red eyes," Mefia mused. "Not like the books described." Texts called Bloodkin powerful, stealthy beings with fangs and crimson eyes, roaming darkness. But this one looked pitiful—a lost child, not a monster. Only her icy skin and light aversion proved she was real.
"Hmm~" Mefia licked her dry lips, smiling warmly. "Little one, don’t be scared. I won’t eat you~" Seeing Avril’s fearful expression, she added softly, "You Bloodkin feed on humans. You shouldn’t fear us—we fear you." She ruffled Avril’s silver hair against her will. "Don’t worry. I won’t take revenge."
Avril’s fear eased slightly, but wariness lingered. She watched Mefia furtively, biting her lip, as if wanting to speak but hesitating.
"I don’t recall Bloodkin being mute~" Mefia teased. "Don’t you respond when your Master speaks? Call me ‘Master,’ understand?" Even her past catgirl—soft-spoken and obedient—had been sharper than this child. Flattering Masters was likely a Catfolk survival tactic.
Avril looked up fearfully. Her whisper was almost inaudible, but Mefia caught it:
"Master…"
