Allure Of The Night

Music Recommendation: Mr. Elton arrives at Hartfield- Isobel Waller

Mr. Humphrey was quick to pick on the vampire's words, realising this was Vincent Moriarty. He quickly bowed his head and apologised, "P-pardon me for my ignorance, Mr. Moriarty. I have heard many great things about you."

"Great or bad?" Questioned Vincent, his dark red eyes cooly looking down at the human. "I don't remember seeing you before. We don't take too kindly to trespassers here, unless Ms. Barlow brought you here along with her," he hummed before adding. "Trespassers turn into excellent contributors as fresh drinks."

Mr. Humphrey gulped down the bubbling nervousness rising in his throat. He hadn't expected to run straight into a family member of Moriarty. He nervously smiled and lied, "I came with Ms. Barlow."

"Hopefully as Ms. Barlow's coachman or servant as she wasn't given an option of a guest to bring in her invitation," remarked Vincent, looking at the human, whose face fell further. "Though I must tell for a coachman, you are dressed quite well."

Mr. Humphrey's face turned red at Vincent's words because of embarrassment and fear of being caught. He tried his best to contain his anger. Contained because even though he came from a relatively better class, the middle class, it was still nowhere at the same level as this vampire who stood in front of him.

"So?" came the question from Vincent.

"So?" Mr. Humphrey repeated like an idiot.

"Which category do you belong to? A coachman or a servant, who is waiting on Ms. Barlow?" Vincent enjoyed playing with people, watching them stutter and break under pressure. Especially the kind who stood in front of him.

Eve didn't know how serious Vincent was because there was no trace of a smile on his face. His dark red eyes weighed like a rock around them, and she wasn't even the person who was being questioned. She quietly prayed for Mr. Humphrey's soul.

"I-I," Mr. Humphrey was tongue-tied. He didn't know if he should save his honour by telling this vampire that he was here with Eve as her companion, but if he didn't, that would result in him possibly losing his life. It wasn't as if he hadn't heard people die in balls such as these, as the people belonging to the elite families were told to be merciless.

When Vincent's glare intensified, Mr. Humphrey quickly blurted, "I am Ms. Barlow's personal servant."

"Personal?" Vincent looked amused now. He said, "Let me guess, you must be hired by Ms. Barlow to suit today's ball. What a thoughtful governess I have."

Governess? Mr. Humphrey questioned in his mind before looking at Eve. It dawned on him that she worked for the Moriarty family.

"Y-yes yes, Mr. Moriarty," the man smiled politely, and Vincent returned it with mischief in his eyes.

"Ms. Barlow," Vincent turned to Eve, meeting her blue eyes with his red ones. He said, "Don't you know that no matter what kind of servant, they are supposed to stand in there," he pointed his gaze in the direction where the double doors of the ballroom were located. "Unless you are the King or the Queen." He then turned to look at Mr. Humphrey, waiting for him to understand.

"Ha ha ha, yes," Mr. Humphrey wanted to save his neck more than his pride, and he asked Eve, "Ms. Barlow, would you like to take a walk outside?"

"I think I would prefer to stay here. You can go take a walk," replied Eve, and Mr. Humphrey unwillingly dragged his feet, making his way to where the other servants stood, waiting for their master and mistresses.Â

"Look at you, the head turner," remarked Vincent, now that it was just him and Eve standing next to each other. "Enjoying the attention?"

"Not really," replied Eve, and then said, "I didn't mean to gain this much attention."

"Mm," Vincent hummed in response. He suggested to her, "There are many gunny bags in the kitchen, if you want to change into it that is," and seeing her stare at him, he chuckled.

Eve didn't retort because she was grateful for chasing Mr. Humphrey away, who had seemed like he wouldn't leave her side this evening. Feeling parched, she finally raised the glass to her lips and took a sip.Â

Her face flinched because of the taste of the wine. She turned to the side, and while no one saw, she spit the wine back into the glass.

"What is in this?" Eve frowned, staring at the glass in her hand. "It tastes like…"

"Blood?" Vincent completed the sentence for her, "It isn't, but the fruit which was fermented has the same taste. You know why? Because dead bodies are used as compost to those trees, turning the fruit delicious."

Eve would have thrown up if she didn't notice Vincent looked more amused.

"Are you ever serious, Master Vincent?" questioned Eve, and Vincent shrugged his shoulders.

"When it is required to be serious. Life is too dull to act like a wall. Don't you agree?" he questioned her back and Eve pursed her lips.

"Maybe," she replied, and she saw her employer continue to smile. She saw him look around the people and said, "I will be fine by myself. You can talk to your guests."

"They are a bunch of bore and it's often the same words," stated Vincent, while his eyes continued to look at the guests. Eve then heard him ask, "How are your shoes?"

"They have been comfortable so far. Thank you for asking," Eve responded to him.

"Where's the chivalrous man? The Duke, Ms. Barlow, unless someone else caught your eye this evening," Vincent leaned towards Eve and whispered, "I know your little secret of having eyes on more than one man."

Eve's eyes widened and whispered back, "That is untrue and please do not speak about it."

Vincent finally caught sight of the Duke of Woodlock and said, "My sister seems quite taken by the Duke. Pesky little thing dragged him to the dance floor and danced with him for two songs. You don't mind that, do you?"

"No," replied Eve, while her hand turned firmer around the glass she held.

"Is that a passive aggressive no?"

A soft sigh escaped from Eve's lips, and she said, "I do not mind it."

"Mhm, after all you see him as a friend," Vincent nodded to himself, and then he said, "Why don't I show you something interesting."

Eve turned to him, her eyes curious. She asked, "What is it?"

But noticing the scheming look on Vincent's face, she turned wary. He quickly took the wine glass from her hand and waved at the servant, placing the glass on the tray. He offered his hand for her to take and said,

"Milady."

Eve blinked, "What are you doing?" she asked in suspicion because they had already greeted each other. Wait, did she greet him or not?

Vincent's eyes subtly narrowed before saying, "Leading you to the dance floor." He grabbed her hand, enclasping it in his hand.

"I-I don't think it's a good idea," Eve quickly whispered, but Vincent didn't pay any heed to her words and dragged her from there.