The King hadn’t been kidding when he’d bid Rey focus on his health rather than their new arrangement.

The staff at the castle—a rotating roster of humans and vampires alike—kept his needs well in hand early on. It was almost certainly on his Majesty’s orders. Each new face, equipped with the same empty stare and unblinking eyes as the last, presented Rey with little to do other than rest and recover.

No probing questions. No attempts to suss out his motivations. No visits from the King, or his vassals, or the guards from Rey’s time in the dungeons.

Nothing even approaching suspicion was aimed his way.

Instead, every moment since his “release” had become a never-ending schedule of baths, tonics, massages and measurements for a more suitable wardrobe.

All in the name of his healing.

In those initial days, Rey was served frequent, light meals in his new room. Broths, and bread, and small slivers of cheese with jam were among the favorites of the kitchen here. Rey didn’t feel comfortable leaving the safety of the space yet, even when they hinted that it may be prudent to make himself seen. They catered to his hesitation without complaint.

At least at first.

Over the course of days he built his strength, and confidence, one small plate of hor d'oeuvres at a time.

To pass the hours between meals, Rey read what he could from a squat bookshelf near the door and sequestered himself away like a recluse. Whatever magic the King had utilized in the throne room seemed to mean he could read just as well as he could listen. He requested books from the servants tending to him each morning when he ran out, and finished reading them by nightfall, the low candlelight soothing him to sleep.

It was nice while it lasted.

But by the end of the week, they had begun to more forcefully request his presence in the dining room. Rey didn’t have the wherewithal to deny them any longer than he already had.

He had spent eight days in this strange place by the time he was finally shuttled across the castle to have a proper meal. His guide was one of the many vacant-eyed maids he’d met so far, a human girl this time.

Rey was fresh from being coiffed within an inch of his life and stuffed into some comically gothic outfit of loose linen and leather by the new servant assigned to his upkeep, Icarus.

It was, at the very least, warmer and more comfortable than the clothes he’d awoken in not so long ago.

Now that the threat of death seemed a little less urgent, he could appreciate the majesty of this place. Whether that be his sumptuous clothes, or the long, cool corridors were full to the bursting with tall, arched windows and lush red carpets. There weren’t bars across them this high up, only a beautiful view of the distant mountains, tall and jagged and foreboding.

Servants of every stripe hurried past them as they walked, slinking between slender, marble posts boasting vases and sculptures made of precious metals and colorful glass. The mood was grim, even somewhere as beautiful as this. There was no denying it, even to an outsider like him. It was hard to guess why—the servants all looked healthy and well-appointed. But Rey knew better than to think that was the only thing that could sour a mood.

It seemed Palace-wide, this strange, pervasive sense of sadness and dread. A bitterness and fear shared among humans and vampires alike.

Rey had been surprised to see other humans at first, but he’d grown more used to the mix. They all seemed to be in menial positions here, employed and utilized without much chance to advance. Untrusted.

None of them were empowered enough that they could have been of any help to him in that desolate dungeon. Military matters seemed reserved almost entirely for vampires alone, if the guards and aides were any indication.

No wonder they hadn’t understood how to care for a human hostage they meant to actually keep alive.

By the time Rey had finished the short journey and was seated at a grand table, alone with a veritable feast of thick-cut meats and root vegetables in every color imaginable, he realized that all eyes were on him.

“This is…all for me,” Rey said. He knew his voice was just this side of manic, but he was powerless to stop it.

“Yes, my lord.” That was the Head Steward speaking, Rey was fairly sure.

He seemed more sure-footed than the others, and his eyes were…clearer, somehow. His salt and pepper hair was kept carefully gelled out of his face, a pair of neat, white gloves adorning his hands.

“And you are?”

A pause, then: “My name is Denis. You needn’t show me the respect of a name.”

Rey was almost certain he was a vampire, too—just a subtle one. His expression was softer than the others. Kinder, in a way. It felt wrong not to show him the same regard in return, even if he insisted it was unnecessary.

“Denis, then. Why make so much just for me?”

“His Majesty requested that you be offered superior sustenance. It will be important, if you are to recover between feedings. We did not know what you may prefer initially, so we wanted to offer a wide selection.”

“I—ah.”

Rey blushed to the tips of his ears, keeping his eyes glued to the food on offer. Truth be told, it all looked delicious. It was his first real meal in this world, if you didn’t count the light lunches and suppers he’d been served in his…chambers? Quarters? The things he’d been offered so he didn’t overeat all at once.

Rey watched with interest as one of the servants spooned out servings and servings of roasted meat, vegetables, and something that appeared to be fingerling potatoes. It all seemed mostly like the kind of food Rey was used to, which was a relief in its own right. He wasn’t sure he had it in him to figure out what was and wasn’t palatable on top of everything else.

He ate slowly, trying hard to avoid thinking about all of the waiting faces watching him with glassy, vacant stares.

It felt like they were expecting something unknowable from him. As though if they searched long and hard enough, they may understand better what was happening.

They would be disappointed. Rey was boring and unremarkable.

Still, it wouldn’t hurt to do…something.

Though his isolation was self-imposed, Rey was getting…antsy. It had been the better part of a decade since he’d been healthy enough to do more than stumble through a short walk and cap it off with some bland toast. Now, in full possession of a strong body—and a lot of thoughts he truly didn’t want to sit with for too long—he desperately wanted to experience life all at once. He wanted to eat and move and live.

His boredom was starting to overcome his fear, in fits and starts.

But how did he accomplish that? Could he just…do it?

“You seem to have a question, my lord,” Denis said, voice politely disinterested in a way only the servants of nobility seem to have fully mastered. Rey had never met someone in the modern world who could pull it off, but everyone here could do it effortlessly, down to a person.

“I…I mean—can I just go wherever I want?” Rey’s cheeks colored, and he clenched his hands in his lap. Denis didn’t seem to understand his question at first. “I guess I don’t know what his Majesty expects, I’ve never been someone’s dedicated...blood source before, you know?”

The Steward seemed mildly baffled at his stuttering hesitation, but blinked a few times and gave a curt nod. “The full staff has been instructed to do whatever you ask. That means up to and including any ventures you wish to make outside of the castle. You are not under any constraints, my lord. As a matter of tradition the blood concubine of the King is treated as a high-ranking noble.”

“The what?”

Denis seemed nonplussed. “The blood concubine. It is the official name for the human who provides regular sustenance to the King. Given the nature of vampirism, your safety and health is a matter of our utmost concern. Your health assures the health of the King, and the safety of our Kingdom.”

Rey tried to keep the shock from spilling across his face. He knew he must have looked pale with the effort of it. “I mean, there are other humans that can feed him.”

Rey was met with a muted expression of skepticism from the better part of the servants in the room, but they all quickly schooled it away into indifference. “Vampires perform their best with a dedicated blood partner,” Denis told Rey patiently. “To supplement regular partnered feedings with interlopers is…ill-advised.”

“Right. That’s…yes, I knew that.”

Rey took one deep, steady breath and then stuffed an entire fingerling potato in his mouth before he could say something else that would reveal the full extent of his ignorance.