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Chapter Text

Alfred’s heart pounded as he and Sarah rushed through the woods, eager to put distance between them and dozens of hungry vampires. He couldn’t describe what he was feeling—fear? Anger? Elation? They’d all blended into some form of adrenaline, giving him the burst of energy he needed to keep on running. Only when Sarah stumbled did Alfred slow his pace; still he kept hold of her hand and led her through the woods.

He stopped at a clearing to catch their breath, and when he turned to Sarah, she threw herself into his arms, burying her head in his chest.

“Oh Alfred!”

“Sarah…” he couldn’t help but say somewhat reverently. It was finally over. He basked in the warmth of her embrace for a moment before pulling away. There was a strange expression on her face, and Alfred couldn’t help but frown.

“Are you all ri—,” his statement ended in a gasp as Sarah, with a speed he did not know she possessed, lunged towards him and sunk her teeth into his neck.

Alfred gurgled as blood filled his mouth, the attack leaving him defenseless and writhing on the snow. The cold slowly seeped into his limbs. From his throat, he could feel the burn of Sarah’s bite, immense pain thrumming across his body as it seized and twisted.

He could not fight the pull of the darkness. As he faded away, he heard faint whispers…

Sei bereit.

Then…

Alfred jolted awake, breathing heavily. He looked around wildly, and recognized that he was back in Count Von Krolock’s castle. Bringing a hand up to this throat, he immediately noticed that there was no wound; his neck didn’t even feel bruised.

Was Sarah unable to turn him into a vampire?

He squinted, and realized that the curtains were drawn—meaning sunlight...sunlight that didn’t burn him. Burying his face in his hands, he tried to stop himself from shaking. What was it then? A dream? A premonition? But it had seemed so real…

Still in a daze, he watched as Koukol stumbled around the room, sneering at him, mistaking his distracted stare for a frightened glare. Offended, the servant once again spat in his soup before leaving.

Alfred didn’t bother with the food, remembering how awful it had tasted, and even the knowledge that it was just a dream couldn’t stop his stomach from churning.

Throughout the day, Alfred couldn’t help but notice that everything was happening in exactly the same way as his dream. From the failed staking and the discovery of the library, to Herbert’s manhandling and the Count’s solemn reminiscing by the graveyard.

Even as they were running through the forest, Alfred couldn’t help but note the similarity in the way they stumbled into the clearing.

Still, it was a shock when he’d turned to face Sarah, and she sunk her fangs into his neck.

There was a burning pain, then darkness, then…

Sei bereit.

Alfred all but jumped off the bed as he startled awake, heart beating loudly. He breathed heavily and raised a shaking hand to cover his mouth in shock.

What was it that the professor always said?

Once was a mistake, twice was a coincidence, and thrice…

It was a pattern.

After his brief existential crisis, where he fretted over anything and everything he knew of science, Alfred got up from bed and approached the open window. He could still remember the burning in his limbs, and the thirst that clawed in his throat. Closing his eyes and basking in the light of the day, he asked himself, what now?

Doing the same thing over and over would be the height of idiocy, he thought. Perhaps he simply needed to do a bit of experimentation. His palms grew clammy at the thought of changing things.

Well he didn’t have to do anything drastic. Maybe just small changes first.

He stared at the Count as he slept in his crypt, and wondered what would happen if he went through with the staking. Yet with all his blustering, he couldn’t find it in him to drive the stake into his heart. Alfred opted to instead try and intercept Sarah just before the ball. It ended with him as an unwilling participant in the ball, and Professor Abronsius saving them himself.

He still ended up bitten on the forest floor.

Sei bereit.

Alfred tried to stay put, after finding Sarah daydreaming about the Count—and his sponge—in the bath for the sixth time, but there was a strange magic in the air. He turned around for a moment, and then when he looked back, he could have sworn the castle moved him somewhere else.

The young man barely arrived in time for the ball, and it was there he realized that what constituted as a small change for him, didn’t necessarily mean it was small for the universe.

He screamed as Sarah bit him in front of the crowd. His tear-filled eyes tracked from Sarah’s hungry gaze, to the Count’s smug expression, and finally to Herbert’s strangely regretful look. The ballroom floor was cold, and Alfred whimpered as he pressed his cheek onto the tiles.

Sei bereit.

Upon waking in the count’s castle the eighth time, Alfred threw the crucifix and felt some satisfaction watching it break into pieces against the wall.

The sound made the professor jolt awake, looking around wildly. “Wha—my boy what have you done now?” he asked eyeing the broken crucifix.

Tears springing onto his eyes, Alfred did not bother to answer the professor. Instead, he grabbed his coat and fled from the room, gut churning in anxiety and frustration. He ignored the professor’s repeated calls of his name and made his way to the other side of the castle, as far away from anyone he knew.

Alfred wasn’t certain he knew how long it had been since he found the balcony overlooking the gardens, and had fallen into a restless sleep after about an hour of sobbing. But when he woke, the sky had turned dark, and his bum had grown sore from sitting in one position too long. He brushed himself off as he stood.

He leaned on the balcony ledge, breathing in deeply and letting the cold wind sink into his bones.

It seemed that small changes wouldn’t break the cycle. But what was it that caused him to go back over and over to the start of the day? Was it Sarah’s bite? Or…

He eyed the balcony ledge apprehensively.

What if it was his death that caused the reset, and not necessarily Sarah’s bite? He leaned over the railing, checking how far from the ground he was. His stomach made a small flip as he looked down; if he fell, there would be no doubt that he would die.

How would he know for certain if he did not try? Science was all about…experimentation was it not? He needed evidence to support his theory.

Treating his potential death as a science experiment was not helping his nerves whatsoever.

Alfred closed his eyes and steeled himself.

For Sarah.

He brought one of his legs over the railing and had to pause as his hands trembled. He exhaled shakily and yelped when he heard a voice from behind him.

“Oh darling! I’ve been looking all over—what are you doing?”

Alfred, one leg over the balcony railing, looked back guiltily at the younger vampire, who was staring at him in horror. “I know how this looks like,” he tried to raise his hands placatingly, but when he realized he might overbalance, he quickly grabbed onto the railing with both hands.

“Well,” Herbert said gently, as if speaking to a frightened animal. “It seems to me that you’re trying to jump off the balcony.

“You’re not wrong,” Alfred muttered, and almost fell off at Herbert’s sharp, “Pardon me?”

Alfred didn’t understand why the count’s son looked so aghast. “L-look. This is all just for science.”

“Science?” Herbert said flatly.

“There is something I must know. You have nothing to worry about.”

“…Darling, you have one foot over the balcony railing, moments away from plummeting onto the ground. How can I not?” Herbert was approaching slowly, and Alfred wasn’t sure if he should continue talking to him or just jump off and get it over with.

“None of this even matters,” Alfred said dismissively, and turned his back onto Herbert. As he leaned forward, a strong arm snaked around his middle and pulled him back. He was pressed onto a firm chest, and Alfred felt a flush rise to his face.

“Alfred,” Herbert said quietly, and the young man startled when he realized it was the first time he had ever heard Herbert address him by name. “If you are…weary of life—,”

“It—it’s not that.” Alfred grew frustrated. He didn’t want to die, but he needed to know if it was just Sarah’s bite that caused the reset or not. But then…if he didn’t loop back after jumping off, where would that leave Sarah?

Herbert, who likely sensed his hesitation, gently pulled him back until both his feet were firmly on the balcony. Alfred took a shuddering breath as tears pricked his eyes. He was just tired…he’d already been stuck in the cycle for a week…what if he spent months, or even years stuck in this cycle?

The vampire rubbed his arm in a soothing manner. Though logic stated that Alfred should shrink away, he couldn’t help but lean in a little, if only to absorb the comfort offered by the vampire.

Alfred allowed himself a moment before he shook his head and pulled away slightly. He worried that Herbert would prevent him from doing so, but the blonde simply let him go.

“Are you feeling better?” Herbert asked.

“…Yes, though I wasn’t trying to kill myself because I felt sad or anything of the sort.” Alfred said quickly.

“Oh?” Herbert tittered, and circled around Alfred slowly, putting himself in between the young researcher and the balcony ledge. “Then do enlighten me, mon chéri.”

Alfred opened his mouth to speak, but shut it when he realized he had no clue how to explain what he was doing, or if he even should. Herbert crossed his arms and gave him an expectant look, lips pursed as he waited.

Well, if he looped, none of this would matter. Whether he told Herbert or not, in the next iteration, the vampire would never remember anyway.

“I’ve…I’ve been dying over and over.” Alfred mumbled, but it seemed Herbert still heard it, since he cocked his head.

“Oh darling! I’ve been dying everyday since I met you as well,” he simpered, and Alfred spluttered.

“That—,” he blushed, then had a suspicion. “You—you’re doing that on purpose!”

Both Herbert’s eyebrows rose. “Doing what?”

“This—this,” he gestured to the entirety of the vampire. “Purposely misunderstanding what I just said!”

“Well you can’t blame me darling, red is such a fetching color on you.”

In response, Alfred could feel his face heating in embarrassment, making Herbert grin.

“I—I am quite serious. I have been dying over and over, it’s been…” he counted back. “seven times now.”

Herbert narrowed his eyes slightly, but still kept his disarming smile. “You’re in distress darling, why don’t you lay down on my bosom…”

Alfred grew frustrated. “You’re not listening to me!” he snapped, and Herbert looked at him in surprise, then he turned contemplative.

“My apologies, Alfred.” Herbert said in a conciliatory tone, shocking Alfred out of his indignation.

“N-no, I apologize. I should not have shouted,” he dragged a hand down his face…he was just so exhausted.

There was a beat of silence before Herbert tentatively asked, “You say you’ve been dying over and over…what exactly do you mean?”

Alfred looked at him suspiciously, waiting for another innuendo. When Herbert simply looked curious, he spoke. “Tonight, at the ball, the Professor and I sneak in and try to save Sarah. She’s bitten before we get to her. We manage to escape the castle…but in the woods, she…she turns into a vampire. Then she bites me, and before I turn, I die…then I wake up back in the castle at the start of the day.”

Herbert gave him a stunned look. Alfred had never seen such an expression on the vampire’s face. When he said nothing more, the young man continued.

“I had thought it was a premonition—I had odd dreams the first time I woke.” Herbert twitched at that, but didn’t comment otherwise. “But when I went through the day, everything happened exactly as it had before.” Alfred rubbed the side of his neck, feeling Sarah’s phantom bite.

“I cannot say that I’ve ever heard of such a thing.” There was a thoughtful expression on Herbert’s face. Alfred’s shoulders slumped forward.

“But, that is not to say, it does not exist.” Herbert added.

“I—you believe me?”

Herbert shrugged. “Is it any more unbelievable than vampires in the night, drinking the blood of the living?”

At his words, Alfred felt the blood leech from his face, leaving him pale. In his desire to talk to someone about his situation, it slipped his mind.

“Um, I—,” the words got stuck in Alfred’s throat, and he tentatively moved back as Herbert stepped forward.

“Why so shy all of a sudden, my dear Alfred? Surely a vampire hunter such as yourself isn’t afraid of little old me?” There was a hint of mockery in Herbert’s tone.

Alfred swallowed down his fear to respond. “I—I do not aspire to be such. I’m just a research assistant,” he said weakly.

Herbert grinned, and the flash of his fangs was enough to make Alfred whimper. He moved backwards until his back hit the balcony window. The vampire was in front of him in a flash, all but pinning him to the glass.

Squeezing his eyes shut, Alfred sincerely hoped he still looped back after being killed by the count’s son. When moments passed, and no killing blow landed, he tentatively opened his eyes. When Alfred looked up, he saw that the vampire had a sly smile on his face.

“I have a proposal for you.”

“I—yes?”

“I,” he brought one hand to his chest, “shall help you with your time looping problem,”

“You…will?” Alfred asked in confusion.

Herbert nodded rather gallantly, and the young man couldn’t help but ask, “Why?”

“You amuse me, and you must admit, this is quite the interesting phenomenon.” Herbert wagged his finger at him. “But do not get me wrong, my darling, I don’t work for free.”

“And…what do you want from this arrangement?”

Herbert leaned forward, and Alfred pressed himself back onto the window, hoping in vain that the glass would swallow him whole and get him away from the vampire.

“All I want,” Herbert grinned. “is you,” he pressed a finger to Alfred’s chest.

“M-me? What do you mean?”

“Your body would be nice,” Herbert said in a wondering tone. Alfred squawked and wrapped his arms around his chest, as if preserving his modesty. Then the vampire giggled. “But I doubt you’d give me that, so I suppose I’ll settle for your blood.”

Alfred gulped. “My blood? You want to kill me? Turn me?”

“Oh darling! You claim that you loop every time you are bitten. Surely you do not wish for Sarah to tear your throat open all the time? Surely you would want a gentler touch,” as he spoke, he brushed his finger at the side of Alfred’s neck.

Alfred squeaked, and jerked his head away. “This is madness!”

Herbert rolled his eyes. “What part of your entire situation isn’t madness?”

“I—if I loop, how would you even remember we had an agreement?”

Herbert hummed. “You’ll have to figure out how to tell me my dear. But you’ve managed to convince me of it today, there’s no reason you cannot do it again.”

If he felt a little braver, he would have rolled his eyes at the vampire. As it was, he could only manage an exasperated, albeit shaky sigh. “When you mean you’ll help me…”

“I have read quite a lot of books in our library,” he pressed his index finger to his cheek and pursed his lips. “Amazing what hundreds of years of boredom can do to you.”

Alfred stared at him, fear momentarily forgotten. “You’re over a hundred years old?”

Tittering, Herbert waved him away. “Perhaps you can ask me another day, I’m sure you’ll get to know me quite well while we’re researching your…condition.”

“But if I agree, when are you going to bite me? Just before the ball?”

Herbert tutted. “During the ball, my dear. You can’t expect my father to be the only one to have a lovely drink.”

Alfred took in a shaky breath. He could simply agree now, and back out later, Herbert would never remember. Still, perhaps he did need someone to look over books with him.

“Can you bite me now?”

The surprised expression on Herbert’s face melted into delight. “My darling, I thought you’d never ask! But the ball…?”

Alfred shook his head, and swallowed thickly. “This will be the first time I’ve…I’ve offered willingly. I’d prefer if the first time would be somewhere I didn’t have any eyes on me.” And though his suicide—attempted reset, he reminded himself in his mind—didn’t go as planned, he could at least test if Herbert’s bite would cause him to loop back as well.

Before he could lose his nerve, Alfred untied his ribbon and pulled back his collar. Herbert bent over him and rubbed his hands on Alfred’s arms in a soothing gesture.

“This won’t hurt,” Herbert said reassuringly. Alfred couldn’t help but shiver as the vampire pressed a light kiss to his throat.

“You don’t have to lie, Herbert.” Alfred murmured. “I’ve felt Sarah’s bite seven times now…”

There was a light hiss from the blonde as he heard Sarah’s name. He briefly removed his lips from Alfred’s throat and the young man almost jumped when he felt Herbert’s lips brush his ear.

“I,” Herbert whispered softly, “am not Sarah.”

Before Alfred could unpack that statement, he felt a light prick at this neck, followed immediately by a burst of warmth. Instead of the burning pain he’d associated with turning, he felt immediately relaxed, as if his limbs were turning into jelly. A different kind of heat pooled at his center as he felt Herbert lick at his neck. His knees buckled, and only Herbert’s strong arms were holding him upright. As he faded off, Herbert whispered something, but he didn’t catch it.

Sei bereit…

He woke up in his bed, heart pounding, cheeks aflame, and mouth dry.

Chapter Text

When he woke from his bed after Herbert’s bite, he remained staring at the canopy of his four-poster bed for a few good minutes as he processed what had happened. The vampire hadn’t been lying; there had been no pain apart from the slight prick as Herbert’s fangs pierced his skin. Whatever followed had even been—calming? Reassuring?

Alfred squeezed his eyes shut, unsure how to feel as he realized that Herbert’s bite had been the one time he’d looped back when he felt completely at ease. It had felt like a warm hug, a far cry from the writhing pain he’d come to associate with Sarah’s bites.

Waking up, being pulled away from that comfort, felt like a splash of cold water. His resolve wavered at the thought of having to go through all of that—dozens, if not hundreds of times.

The logical thing to do, Alfred knew, was to go to straight to Herbert, tell him about their “deal”, and hopefully start researching his condition…

Though what was he supposed to do? He huffed in amusement at the thought of banging on Herbert’s coffin and waking the vampire up in broad daylight. He then quickly blanched as he realized that that was an easy way to become a very tasty snack quite quickly.

He needed time to come to terms with his emotions, Alfred reasoned with himself as he started to pull away from the bed, leaving a still-snoring Professor Abronsius on it. The curtain had been drawn back by Koukol, and Alfred leaned his forehead on the glass, reveling in the warmth of the day. He stared out the window, which overlooked the garden maze. Castle von Krolock was massive, and not even in his eight loops did he manage to explore even half of it.

It was daunting, the realization that what he knew of the waking world could be upended in just a span of a few days. When he had set out on this journey with Professor Abronsius, he’d thought the most they’d be doing was interviewing the townspeople and writing papers that attempted to separate fact from fiction. He was truly out of his depth, stuck in a castle with who knew how many vampires, and with a strange magic holding him hostage.

Panic was setting in once more as he dwelled on his strange situation. Alfred breathed in deeply and exhaled slowly. He needed a distraction—and what better way to do so than by killing two birds with one stone and starting on his research?

Nodding to himself in determination, Alfred marched out of the room, ignoring the grunt Koukol gave him as he almost hit him with the door as he left. When he reached the library, he stared at the rows upon rows of books and was momentarily stumped once more. Where would he even start looking? To his dismay, the shelves weren’t even labelled in any way he could understand or recognize. And the more he stared at the books, the more he realized that he was utterly clueless about what to do next.

He walked across the room, and scanned the titles for anything that stood out. There were very few books that he recognized from his days at university. All the rest seemed to have innocuous titles. Though what did he honestly expect? Books bearing damning titles akin to “The Theory and the Theology of the Evil Undead”?

Feeling defeated, he exited the library with slumped shoulders, unsure where to head to next. It was still late morning, so Herbert would still be asleep in his coffin.

Alfred paused in his steps.

Herbert would be asleep…but that meant that his room would be empty. And he did have his own collection of books there, Alfred had glimpsed it when he had passed by that area during his first loops.

When he reached Herbert’s chambers, he still knocked hesitantly despite knowing the vampire wouldn’t be in them. The doorknob turned when he tried it, surprising Alfred. In hindsight it shouldn’t have; considering that the Krolocks didn’t seem to play host to guests very often, Herbert wouldn’t have any particular reason to lock his quarters.

He pushed the door open, poking his head into the room to get a cursory look before fully entering. Herbert’s rooms were lavishly decorated, as one would expect from a person of his standing. There were various interconnecting doorways that led to different areas; Alfred knew now that one of these doors led straight to the bath, and he grimaced at the reminder of his and Herbert’s past encounter.

Stepping into the receiving room, he immediately spied the twin bookshelves propped up at the corner. He could see that one was filled with books about romance and poetry, some of which he recognized were written by renowned authors and poets. The other was, to his surprise, mostly academic books and journals on various topics. Whatever could be said about Herbert, his taste in literature was impeccable.

To his dismay though, despite the wonderful selection, he was still as hopeless now as he had been in the library—he had no idea what to pick.

It was time to admit defeat; he truly needed Herbert’s guidance for this. Sighing, Alfred picked up a book on poetry, and settled on the lounge chair, deciding to wait for the vampire to wake and enter his rooms.

He didn’t mean to drift off, but the chair was very plush and comfortable, and the moment he laid back, his tired soul didn’t stand a chance.

When he woke, he became vaguely aware of fingers gently carding through his hair. His first instinct was to close his eyes again and lean towards the comfort. A long nail scraped across his scalp, and it made him stiffen in realization.

“Finally awake then, my dear?” came a familiar voice, and it made Alfred whimper in horror. He peeked open one eye. The vampire had wedged himself in the small space remaining on the lounge chair and was gazing down at Alfred in amusement.

“…Hello.” He responded hesitantly, angling his head away from the vampire’s hand.

“Well, I can’t say it isn’t lovely to find a…feast spread out in my rooms, but I must say it is a surprise.”

Alfred reddened but didn’t deign to comment on his words. “Well, umm, Herbert—may I call you Herbert?”

“You,” Herbert leaned in with a smirk, “may call me anything you want.”

“Um,” he squeaked. “Herbert then.” Alfred slid off the chair as smoothly as he could, though he only barely managed not to fall onto the floor in his haste. He stood quickly and kept the chair between him and Herbert to make him feel a bit more secure.

Alfred cleared his throat, and Herbert cocked an eyebrow.

“…Are you quite all right?” the vampire asked when Alfred remained silent.

“Oh! Yes, uh, simply gathering my thoughts,” he replied nervously. He coughed again before taking a deep breath to calm himself. “I’m here because I need your help.”

“I’d be delighted to aid you, darling. But why come to me of all people?”

“…Someone suggested I ask for your help.”

“And who might this ‘someone’ be?”

Alfred shifted uncomfortably. “It was well…you.”

The smile on Herbert’s face grew fixed. “I beg your pardon, darling?”

Alfred hastened to explain, “Since last night, I’ve been struck by some…strange magic that is causing me to relive a single day over and over again.” Herbert’s expression wasn’t encouraging, but he continued. “This is my ninth loop. They always start with me waking up in bed, and usually end with me getting bitten by Sarah at the end of ball after she’s turned by your father.”

“Usually?”

“In my last one, you offered to help me in researching this phenomenon.”

It was clear that Herbert was skeptical of his words. “And what did I ask in return for my supposed ‘help’?”

“Nothing, you asked for nothing in return.” Alfred lied, flushing at the memory. Herbert’s eyebrows rose at his reaction, and he smirked in a predatory manner.

“You are a poor liar, mon chéri.”

“All right, all right, you asked for the uh, dubious honor of…sampling me during the ball.”

“What?” Herbert said incredulously.

Alfred shrugged helplessly. He was quite lost on what to do next, and he had never tried to ask help before.

The blonde looked nonplussed at this information. “Is this some sort of elaborate joke?”

“No! I’m not sure what I can say to make you believe me. But I wouldn’t have accepted this…this arrangement if I weren’t so desperate! Do you think I’d choose to offer my blood, my life, to someone if I thought I had another choice?”

“Well, you can’t blame me for being a tad bit skeptical of all this. I was introduced to a gorgeous creature just last night, and now said gorgeous creature is offering himself to me for help?”

Alfred was certain that his face was a permanent shade of red by now. “What can I do or say to make you believe me?”

Herbert hummed noncommittally and leaned back on the chair. “Tell me more about these loops.”

He tried to summarize, but it was difficult to condense everything that happened into a few words. The vampire looked thoughtful as he spoke, and asked a few questions to clarify what happened. If he did things the same way, did the same outcome always happen? How much are things affected by small changes? What was Herbert’s role in these different loops?

Alfred was parched by the time he had finished all the explanations to Herbert’s satisfaction.

“Well,” Herbert said, glancing outside the window. “I believe we still have around half an hour or so before we have to start preparing for the ball. I can at least use that time to help you pick what books to focus on.” He stood up and beckoned to Alfred. The young man blinked at him in confusion and surprise before he hastily stood and followed him out.

Thankfully, the good professor was not in the library when they reached it; Alfred wasn’t sure what tale he would have to spin to explain where he’d been.

“Sit,” Herbert gestured to one of the tables, before moving across the library with a startling amount of speed. Alfred plopped down on his seat and watched in fascination as Herbert started pulling out books from various bookshelves. Occasionally, he’d frown at a volume and put it back, and other times, he’d inspect the title, make a face, then add it to his pile.

The blonde eventually made it back to the table and set down the stack of books.

“…I hope you’re not going to ask me to read all of these in the next half hour.”

Herbert gave him a look that blatantly said that the vampire was starting to doubt his intelligence. “I’m afraid we don’t have the time. But you do claim that you loop, so you eventually will have the time. For now,” he gave the stack of books a hearty pat, “you’ll have to familiarize yourself with these titles so we, over the course of your many, many loops, can study them. By remembering the book titles, you’ll be able to research during the morning while I’m still asleep. Unfortunately, as I will never remember any of this, and it seems nothing else except for your consciousness is returned every day, you will have to memorize quite a lot.”

Alfred felt slightly overwhelmed at the amount of information stored in the books, but what else could he do but adapt?

“What made you choose these books?” he asked as he picked up the first volume and opened it.

Herbert hooked a hand under his chin and leaned on the table. “These are the ones that contain a broad discussion of the occult. I am hoping that by casting a wide net, we’ll be able to find something that at least mentions your situation. And then once we know what it is, we can hopefully find a book that discusses it in more detail.”

Alfred was silently impressed, though he wasn’t sure he managed to keep it off his face. It was easy to dismiss Herbert as someone silly and shallow. But the man had certain hidden depths that always managed to surprise him.

For the next half hour, everything was silent save for Alfred’s quite chanting under his breath as he committed all the book titles in his mind. Herbert was suspiciously quiet and well behaved while he read, and Alfred was glad for the respite from teasing.

“Alfred?” Herbert’s voice cut through his mantra of memorization, and as he looked up from the books, he saw the vampire giving him a rueful look. “I believe that’s all the time we have, unfortunately.”

Alfred groaned. “Already?”

“You should make your explanations more palatable, darling. Otherwise, it would take quite a while for me to believe you, and that would cut down our quality time together,” he batted his eyelashes at Alfred.

“Must you say it like that?” he asked exasperatedly.

“Like what, my dear?”

Alfred simply gave him a look before shaking his head. “You are right of course, I need to be more succinct in my explanations.” As he spoke, he realized that Herbert had never truly believed him in the last loop; he was likely only humoring him; he wasn’t sure if that made him angry or resigned.

“I’m not certain though that it would speed up the—ah—process of me accepting this incredibly curious story.”

“Well, how about you tell me something…something you’ve never told anyone else?”

Herbert narrowed his eyes almost imperceptibly, but he kept the flirtatious smile on his face. “Now why would I bare my secrets to a stranger?”

“It doesn’t have to be an important secret!” Alfred said quickly. “It could be something as inconsequential as…as the color of your smallclothes!”

At the exact moment Alfred realized just how Herbert would construe his statement, the vampire’s eyebrows rose, and his mouth formed a perfect “o” of surprise.

They stared at each other for a second before Herbert burst into peals of laughter. Alfred felt his face turn hot at his misstep.

“You scandalous creature!” Herbert exclaimed.

“No! I just meant—,”

“If you wanted to see me in my underthings, darling, you could simply ask,” Herbert placed his hands on the bands of his trousers, as if to push them down and Alfred immediately looked away with a groan.

“Oh my God. What did I do to deserve this?”

Herbert cackled, sounding very much like the villain that he is. “I jest, my sweet. You blush so prettily, how am I to resist?”

“Ugh.”

“For future reference, I picked a beautiful midnight blue lace—,”

“The color is enough, I believe,” Alfred said in a pained voice.

“Hmmm. No, I don’t believe it is.”

When Alfred turned back to the vampire, he looked slightly subdued, as if his jovial persona had melted off him.

“Herbert?” he asked uncertainly.

“When discussing your situation to me, tell me I asked you to call me ‘petit soleil’.”

“Petit soleil,” Alfred murmured. “Little sun? Why?”

There was a long pause before Herbert answered.

“Ask me another time,” he said somewhat quietly, before shaking himself, as if banishing the solemn veil that had been draped upon them. “With that and correctly identifying my gorgeous smallclothes, I do believe your explanations will go more quickly the next time around.”

“I’ll take your word for it.”

“But now,” Herbert struck a garish pose, “we must prepare for the ball. I already have the perfect outfit in mind for you.”

Alfred grimaced, already dreading it. For Sarah, for Sarah, he kept chanting in his mind as Herbert all but dragged him back to his room.

Though Alfred had been a part of the ball many times in the past, there was something awe inspiring and nerve-wracking about being an actual part of it. It didn’t help that he knew the night would end with him being bitten by Herbert, and likely looping back to the beginning once more. The only consolation to the entire thing was that he could actually spend more time with Sarah during this moment. She looked resplendent in her deep red ballgown, and he fidgeted in his black and gold waistcoat, feeling unworthy of her presence. He was upset at the thought that he wouldn’t even have the chance to dance with her; they would descend the stairs simultaneously, with him escorting her until they reached the bottom, and the Krolocks would each usher them away.

Sarah had a death grip on Alfred’s arm, and he winced at her surprising strength. He licked his lips nervously and took a deep breath before speaking, “Are you all right?”

“What?” she seemed surprised that he’d addressed her. “Yes, yes, I’m fine.”

That was certainly a blatant lie, but he decided not to call her out on it. Below, they could hear Krolock starting the festivities with a speech.

“Sarah…” he said tentatively.

A sigh. “Yes?” she sounded exasperated, and he felt a slight twinge of annoyance. 

“Do you…truly want to be here?” It was a question he had wanted to ask Sarah for quite some time now, but for some reason never did.

Sarah looked at him oddly, but still answered. “Yes...Why do you think I don’t?”

Yes…why didn’t he? He thought back to the moment they were outside and she had asked him to retrieve her sponge. Was that just a convenient way to get rid of him?

“Why do you want to be here?” Alfred pressed.

Sarah looked away with pursed lips. “I have lived my whole life in the village, did you know that, Alfred? I have never ventured outside of it…and in many times, I wasn’t even allowed outside the inn.” She patted at her skirts. “I have never seen or worn any sort of finery in my life, never been in a place as large as this castle, never seen so many people in one place. There were moments of my life where I was just locked away in my room, and I’d see the outside world from my tiny window,” she then looked back at him with a piercing look, “and long for more.”

Alfred blinked at her in surprise; he had never thought of it that way. His trips with Professor Abronsius were very fascinating of course, and he always enjoyed them—in their own way, but he had never craved them.

“And you think…Graf von Krolock can give you that freedom?”

“Well,” she tightened her grip. “It doesn’t seem anyone else can. This—whatever this is, is more than I’ve ever been allowed to do in my life.”

I could give you that, he wanted to say, and yet…he’s not even certain it’s something he can promise. He’s a student at university, a poor research assistant; what could he truly offer Sarah?

The music swelled, and it seemed to be their cue to start descending the steps. It was odd to be on this side of the ball. Looking down, he saw the crowd of vampires and it made him gulp. His eyes found Herbert’s and the blonde flashed him a grin, making Alfred loosen up slightly. As they reached the bottom step, Sarah was immediately whisked away by the Count, and he mourned the loss of her arm in his.

Herbert stepped beside him and took his hand, leaning in slightly to whisper, “Breathe, darling.”

Alfred struggled to comply and immediately took deep, gulping breaths, making Herbert chuckle.

“Nervous?”

 “I’ll get used to it,” he said honestly.

“We’ll figure this out eventually, my dear.” Herbert said reassuringly, and incredibly, it made Alfred feel better.

When the music started, Herbert pulled him close, and drew him into a dance. It was obvious from the start that the blonde was a terrific dancer, and even with his bumbling, they still somehow gracefully glided across the ballroom. In another life, he would have probably enjoyed the extravagance of the ball.

Alfred almost snorted at that thought. In another life. Maybe with enough loops, he would end up enjoying the ball with Herbert.

“Something funny mon chéri?” asked his dance partner, and when Alfred looked up, he saw that Herbert was giving him an amused if curious smile.

He shook his head and responded with a wry grin, “Just a passing thought. We’ll see if it ever happens.”

Herbert’s grip on his hand tightened slightly, and without warning, he twirled Alfred expertly, making him squeak. The vampire gave him a delighted grin when Alfred shot him a scowl. Another ungodly sound escaped him when Herbert dipped him at the song’s climax. His hands immediately scrabbled to hold onto Herbert’s neck for dear life.

“So eager for my embrace, darling!” he laughed, and Alfred, despite his attempts at a death glare, ended up giggling at the absurdity of the situation.

As he looked up at Herbert, he found that the blonde was staring down at him in a mix of surprise and awe, making Alfred blink at him in askance.

The music ended, snapping Herbert from his strange trance. He gently pulled Alfred upright before joining in the applause for the end of the dance. Graf von Krolock led Sarah slowly to the center of the ballroom, and though Alfred had seen the scene plenty of times before, he still couldn’t help but feel ill at ease at what was about to happen. The count turned Sarah’s face away as he bit down with enthusiasm. The way Sarah twitched in his arms made Alfred clench his jaw.

Once done, he carried her in his arms, as per usual, and paraded her around the room in some strange ritual. It always ended with Sarah on the ballroom floor, utterly spent, but this time, Graf von Krolock swept her to the side room, and set her on her feet. He supported her with one arm around her waist, before looking over to where Herbert and Alfred were standing, and gestured towards them.

“It’s our moment, darling.” Herbert whispered before taking a gentle hold of Alfred’s arm and moving towards the center of the room. Every eye was on them, except for one whose owner still looked a bit dazed post-bite.

Once they reached the middle of the room, Herbert met his gaze, and Alfred found himself unable to look away. Slowly, the vampire unbuttoned the top of Alfred’s shirt, and carefully exposed his neck.  

“Well,” Alfred managed a tremulous smile. “See you in the next one.”

Herbert traced a finger across his pulse point and positioned himself behind him. Alfred couldn’t help the small hitch in his breath as the vampire pressed a soft kiss onto his neck before carefully biting down.

It was the same as last time—a sharp burst of pain, followed immediately by a wash of relief. To his immense embarrassment, Alfred couldn’t suppress the small moan that escaped him. Each time Herbert suckled at his neck only made the floaty feeling in his head grow even more. His traitorous knees had the nerve to give up on him once again as the vampire continued his ministrations. Cradled against Herbert’s chest, Alfred’s consciousness began to drift away.

Sei bereit…

Chapter Text

The first time he’d ever had to tell Herbert, he had stuttered so badly that the blonde had given him a genuine look of concern.

“Mid-mid—”

“Midnight? Yes, the wonderful ball is at midnight my dear,” he said in confusion.

Clearing his throat, he clarified, “I was not referring to the ball.”

“What did you mean by midnight, then?”

“Your…smallclothes…” his voice decreased in volume at every syllable he uttered. He was looking at anything but Herbert, unwilling to make any sort of eye contact.

There was a long bout of silence before he heard Herbert say in bafflement, “Are you propositioning me or…?”

Alfred groaned in response as he covered his eyes with one hand, partially hoping the loop would just take him there and then. He supposed it would get better with time.

…It did not get better. And with every iteration, Alfred had to live with the fact that he kept humiliating himself in front of Herbert. It didn’t even help that Herbert didn’t remember it—he was somehow deducing that Alfred constantly embarrassed himself.

“For shame, darling. Your fifth time and you still can’t describe my smallclothes to me in lurid detail?” He tutted and smirked mischievously. “Perhaps you need to see me in them so you can give me an accurate description?”

Alfred yelped and covered his eyes with his hands.

The trick to explaining things to Herbert, Alfred was starting to learn, was either being confident, or nonchalant…and he had absolutely no practice in either.

In every loop, he always opened with a dialogue about Herbert’s smallclothes, though it made him blush consistently. His knowledge regarding the color and design intrigued Herbert enough to listen to the second part of the reveal.

“And so what is this ‘secret’ that I supposedly imparted to you?” he would ask playfully.

Without fail, Herbert’s expression would always shutter whenever Alfred hesitantly called him “petit soleil”. While there would be a brief moment of awkwardness, Herbert would end up believing him, and the two would head to the library to look through the books.

And what a headache that was turning out to be.

The fact of the matter was that Alfred was a stellar student. He’d been a research assistant for a while now, and he’d had experience reading all sorts of books and academic texts. But this monumental task was stretching even his practiced mind.

It didn’t look like it, but Herbert was a strict taskmaster. He would sit Alfred down and absolutely squeeze every bit of information he remembered from the reading he’d done in the previous cycle. He would tut and tsk every time Alfred couldn’t remember just exactly what he’d read from a particular book, and he’d even give little theatrical headshakes and beleaguered sighs that made the young man want to wring his neck.

But he refrained from doing so, because despite his eccentricities and his pompous attitude, Herbert was turning out to be quite the intellectual. He went through books far more quickly than Alfred did, and he would provide a short explanation to the young man about its contents, and why they weren’t related to their research. However irrelevant they were though, they were still fascinating. And Alfred, never one to shy away from new knowledge, always ended up engaging Herbert in discussion about them.

Case in point, on his twenty fourth loop, he looked contemplatively at Herbert as the blonde chattered away while shelving a book.

“Ridiculous!” he scoffed. “Nothing but pure conjecture.”

“Why? What did it say?” he asked curiously.

“Ugh,” he rolled his eyes. “This ‘researcher’ was going on and on about how all creatures of the night were beholden to one master. An interesting concept in itself, but he had to go and conclude, with no evidence mind you, that this ‘master’ was actually a hag. A hag! As if they had any power outside of their domain.”

“A hag? Like…an old woman?”

Herbert snorted. “Not a metaphorical hag, darling. The actual creature.” At his continued bemusement, he elaborated. “Like the hag of the forest? The ones that lure unsuspecting travelers into the forest and eat them? None of this ringing a bell?” He tsked. “What are they teaching at school these days?”

Perhaps if it had been a few loops earlier, Alfred would have been defensive. As such, he’d started to get used to Herbert’s jabs, and blandly replied, “Speculations on mythical beings generally aren’t taught at university. Fret not, I’ll tell them to add it to the curriculum when I get back.”

“Oh, so he has finally learned sarcasm!” He wiped an imaginary tear from his eye. “I can only assume this is my wonderful influence. It is always a proud day when the student surpasses his teacher.”

“In spite of the teacher, even.” The slight twitch on Alfred’s lip turned into a laugh when Herbert brought a hand to his chest and feigned insult.

“You wound me, darling! Such harsh words from such a delicate face.”

Somewhere between the nights spent poring over books and the frequent bloodletting he received, he learned to stop taking Herbert so seriously. Of course, the man still went out of his way to fluster him, but he slowly understood that there was more to him than his flirtatious façade. The innuendos petered out whenever he was engrossed in a book or whenever their topic of conversation turned to their looping issue. He was still playful by nature though, and Alfred eventually found himself enjoying the back-and-forth teasing.

“I’ll show you delicate,” he muttered, before wrangling Herbert back on topic. “So, the hag?”

“Hags are creatures of the forest. They do often appear as helpless old ladies, but sometimes they can shapeshift into other beings or animals as well.” He tapped a finger on his lip as if deep in thought. “It’s said that the land itself lends them their powers. So the wider the forest, the deeper the well of their magic, so to speak.”

It was still jarring to hear one talk of magic, and powers, and shapeshifting so casually, but Alfred had had a few loops to get used to the concept. After all, the books he continually perused were those of broad topics, but related in some way to discussions of supernatural beings and occurrences. In one loop, when he had opened a book and found that it had contained a discussion on werewolf mating cycles of all things, he had accidentally thrown it clear across the room towards a cackling Herbert.

“Hags can be quite nasty though,” he sniffed. “They promise incredible things, but deals with them always have a catch. Poor, unsuspecting fools that fall into their trap can quickly find themselves at the hag’s mercy.”

“You seem to know a lot about them?”

“I know a lot of things, darling,” he said nonchalantly, but Alfred had been around Herbert long enough to recognize when he was trying to obfuscate.

“You sound like you speak from experience. Have you had dealings with hags before?”

The directness of his question seemed to catch Herbert by surprise. After a beat, he scoffed, but his eyes held a certain tightness that had not been there previously. “Preposterous. As if I would ever lower myself to deal with that filth.”

“You don’t have to lie to me, you know,” Alfred said. The vehemence with which he’d responded confirmed it for him. It seemed Herbert had encounters with hags in the past, a pact that perhaps did not go the way he’d expected.

“I—,”

“You don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want to. If this is something you don’t wish to talk about, just tell me so I know not to press you on it in the future,” Alfred said gently.

Herbert looked at him as if he did not know what to make of him.

“I value your privacy, Herbert.”

Eventually, he glanced away and just said very softly, “Ask me another time.” Then in a louder voice he said, “Change the subject.”

Alfred acquiesced. “How do you know so much about magic? And where did you get all these books?”

“Hundreds of years of boredom, darling,” Herbert bounced back, grasping at the new topic with fervor. “When I became a vampire, I wanted to know everything about us. And it seemed to me I had a lifetime to find out.”

Rationally, Alfred knew that Herbert had to have been turned. But he somehow could not imagine the blonde to be anything other than what he was now.

“How old are you exactly?”

Herbert tittered. “Don’t you know it’s rude to ask a gentleman his age?” He flipped his long hair over his shoulder playfully.

“I’ll keep that in mind for when I meet any gentlemen around.”

Herbert brought both hands over his heart and mimed getting stabbed. “Two for two, darling!” He wagged a finger at Alfred, which he batted away. “I digress,” Herbert said, “Age is a confusing aspect of an immortal’s life. As I had stopped aging when I was turned, am I that age forever? Or do my years of experience as a vampire count as my age?”

“What do you think?”

Herbert shrugged. “It is a complex issue. I live every day as if it were the same one. It is a never-ending cycle—not to the extent you’re experiencing of course. But…” he let out a weary sigh. “I see the world around me constantly evolving with new technologies and discoveries. And here I still am, unchanged, the same as the day I had been turned.”

There was a melancholy to his tone, and Alfred felt a twinge of sympathy for the vampire. “That sounds…exhausting.”

“Oh, it is. That’s why I’m grateful you’ve managed to wrangle in some measure of excitement into the monotony of my existence.”

His delivery sounded too sincere for it to pass as a jest. “Are  you…weary of life?” he suddenly remembered their conversation by the balcony.

“I think there is so much to enjoy about life. But…” Herbert paused, as if warring with himself, before he continued in a quieter voice. “Am I even truly living?”

Concerned, Alfred abandoned the book he was holding and approached the other man. Herbert stood unmoving. There was a faraway look in his eyes as he stared at a fixed spot across the library.

Tentatively, Alfred placed a hand on his shoulder, and it seemed to jolt him back to the present.

“I apologize if my questions led you to darker thoughts, that wasn’t my intent.”

“No, not at all, darling.” His smile did not reach his eyes, and Alfred found that that upset him.

“Do you want to know what I think, though?”

“Hmmm?”

“I think this life would not be half as exciting as it has been if it did not have you in it.”

Herbert glanced at him in surprise, and Alfred gave him a warm smile. “If you were not here, who would be helping me with all this nonsense? I might have lived my entire life without knowing what sarcasm was!”

Herbert laughed wetly. “What a tragedy that would be.”

Alfred realized this was the closest he’d ever been to the man, purely of his own volition. It seemed that Herbert did too because his expression suddenly turned sly, “I knew your barbs concealed a hidden affection, you emotional cactus.”

He flushed. “Perhaps in your dreams, darling,” he chuckled, and he gave Herbert’s shoulder one last squeeze before stepping away.

“Well, I think it’s best we clean this up and start preparing for the ball.” Herbert turned to start shelving books, but not before Alfred saw a light dusting of red on his cheeks.

…Had he managed to do the impossible and actually flustered Herbert? Alfred was nothing if not a researcher, and so he tucked that bit of knowledge away in his mind to be examined later.

The proceedings before the ‘midnight meal’ as he’d coined in his head, were so mind numbingly boring that Alfred often tuned everything out until he was reunited with Herbert on the ballroom floor. As per usual, Sarah was at his side, wearing the same crimson dress she always did, still absolutely devastating in her beauty. He had run out of things to ask her very early on in the loops. It was disappointing that they could not seem to hold any sort of meaningful conversation, as his attempts often yielded one-word answers or some variant of “I don’t know.” He had hoped to spend this time to get to know her better, but the distance with which she kept him at made it difficult to say anything.

Alfred pursed his lips and wondered why it was the opposite with Herbert. The vampire never seemed to run out of things to say, and Alfred often found himself engaged in various topics with him. Sixteen loops had passed since they started their agreement, and still, he learned something new every time he spoke with him.

“You look deep in thought, mon chéri.” A voice said by his ear, and he snapped out of his thoughts. He had absently gone through the motions and had finally reached Herbert. “What are you thinking of?”

“You,” he said honestly.

Herbert blinked back at him as he escorted him to the dance floor. “What about?”

“Just that you’re so easy to talk to. And I just feel grateful for it. For you,” he said. “I’m lucky you agreed to help me.”

The hands on his hip and hand tightened minutely. “As I said, this is the most exhilarating thing that’s happened to me in years. Even if I don’t remember past this one day.”

They glided across the dancefloor with Herbert, as usual, leading the pair. He’d danced with him so often that his body had memorized everything, even the little impromptu moves that Herbert liked to add into the mix. Alfred laughed at his consternation.

“How are you guessing everything I do?” he sounded caught between glee and frustration. Alfred thought back to the moment in the library, and he felt it was the perfect time to try something he hadn’t done before.

“I suppose,” Alfred let himself drawl. “That I am so accustomed to your body that you could hardly surprise me.”

Now, Alfred understood why Herbert took such delight in flustering him. The utterly poleaxed look on the vampire’s face, coupled with the flush that crept up his cheeks, was highly amusing. Alfred allowed himself a small laugh at his triumph.

“Red is such a fetching color on you, darling,” Alfred teased, echoing Herbert’s words to him from so long ago.

If possible, Herbert’s face turned even redder, and his mouth opened and closed multiple times in shock.

Alfred grinned up at him, one of the few times he felt genuine delight while in this looping predicament. Herbert finally recovered from his surprise, and shook his head, giving him the sweetest smile he’d ever seen. It transformed his face into something pure and angelic, making Alfred further relax in his hold.

“You are full of surprises, my dear.”

The dance went smoothly, and Alfred had even anticipated the dip at the end, making Herbert giggle in response when he followed through with a flourish of his hands.

His joy faded with the music, and Alfred watched dispassionately as the count brought Sarah to the center and bit her with all the pomp and ceremony that came with it. He’d been genuinely concerned for her before, but seeing it over and over had somewhat desensitized himself to the sight. A quiet sigh escaped his lips when Herbert gently guided him to the middle of the ballroom.

“No excitement for what’s to come?” Herbert positioned himself behind Alfred and he’d become so used to it that he no longer flinched or reacted when he felt his fangs graze his neck.

“Wow. I absolutely cannot wait to do all of this all over again…” Alfred said with an eyeroll.

The blonde clicked his tongue. “Whining doesn’t become you, my darling.”

“I’d like to see you remain excited for something you’ve done sixteen times in a row,” he shot back.

There was a sound like a strangled cough and when Alfred looked across the room in that direction, he had to do a doubletake when he realized it had come from the count. The aged vampire was staring at him with a mix of shock and something else he couldn’t identify. As he met Alfred’s eyes, he let out a chuckle and raised a goblet to him. Before the young man could even attempt to unpack that, he felt the prick in his neck, and he started looping back.

Sei bereit…

Alfred got up slowly, brow furrowing as he took a moment to contemplate what he’d seen. The count had looked quite shocked at something, and Alfred was fairly certain the vampire had been looking at him.

Well, in retrospect, he certainly had been talking about quite ludicrous things—saying he’d been doing things over and over, referencing the loops, no wonder the count had recognized his lunacy for what it was—

With a jolt, Alfred suddenly understood what it was about the count’s expression that had been off.

He had looked surprised—but not baffled. On the contrary, it seemed he understood exactly what was happening to Alfred, so much so that when their eyes had met, his had glittered with dark amusement.

Chapter Text

Alfred stared at the book in front of him, his eyes passing over the words without him truly understanding them. A sigh escaped him, and Herbert, a few chairs over, suddenly closed his own tome with a resounding thump, making Alfred jump in his seat.

“All right, enough’s enough darling.” Herbert walked over to him and gave him an expectant look. “What’s the matter?”

“What? Nothing! I’m reading—,”

“You’ve been reading that same page for the last ten minutes. And you’ve sighed at least half a dozen times in the past hour. I know my beauty is unparalleled, but you must learn how to focus.” His last sentence was punctuated by a dramatic flourish of his hand on his brow, and Alfred could only add another sigh to his counter. “And there it goes again! Mayhaps this is a sickness? Are you coming down with a dreadful case of the sighing disease?”

Alfred huffed and set aside his own book. He leaned forward in his seat and rubbed his eyes.

“There’s something I haven’t told you. With the last loop. It’s…it’s something to do with your father.”

Herbert squinted and gestured for him to go on.

“After the dance, you asked me if I had no excitement for what was to come, and flippantly, I said it was difficult to get excited for something you’d done so many times in a row. And well, your father reacted.”

Herbert stared at him for a moment before saying, “Was it a lovely dance at least?”

It startled a laugh out of Alfred. “That’s what you focus on? You’re impossible.”

“Well? I’m waiting.”

“It was,” he said honestly. And because he couldn’t resist his newfound interest in teasing Herbert, he added. “You were magnificent.”

Hints of pink bloomed on Herbert’s cheeks, and Alfred thought it quite sweet that the blonde seemed to get flustered by sincerity. “As I always am, my darling.” He coughed into his fist as if to hide his face. “But I digress, I suppose if I were Father, I’d find it quite difficult not to react to such a ridiculous statement.”

“Yes, that’s what I thought! But well…” he shook his head. “He seemed to understand what was happening. Raised a goblet towards me even.”

Herbert pursed his lips. “Maybe he knows something, but he’s difficult to speak with. Although,” he eyed their piles of books in disgust. “We’ve barely made any progress in the last—how long has it been?”

“If we count the loops in days…a little over a fortnight since we started all this.”

“Perhaps…” he opened a timepiece. “I could try asking Father. We still have a few hours before the ball begins, after all.”

“You’d do that for me?”

“For you, darling? I would do anything.” He winked. “Well, I shall go head off to his chambers, and you can go dress yourself. I assume you know what to wear?”

Alfred waved him away. “I know the one. It hasn’t changed since.”

“Well, that won’t do at all! You must wear something different.”

“What’s the point? You haven’t seen me in anything else.”

Herbert sighed dramatically. “I would rather not see you in anything at all, darling,” and just like that, it was Alfred’s turn to blush. “But this is more about you. Don’t you want to try something different?”

Alfred paused at his words. It was true that he’d been going through the past few loops somewhat mechanically, but it had been Herbert and his interactions with him that had always brought about new experiences. And this was no different.

“Maybe I will,” he shrugged, and Herbert beamed at him before they went their separate ways.

Upon arriving in Herbert’s rooms, Alfred strode directly to his closet and opened it. There were a variety of coats, cloaks, capes, trousers—anything his heart may desire, if he were the type to pay attention to clothing. He sifted through the racks and found his usual attire, the black and gold waistcoat that he’d always worn. His hand hovered over the clothes for a moment before he retracted it and looked over other options.

He was starting to get overwhelmed when he spotted it. Alfred hesitated only for a moment before taking the set of clothing. Well, he’d wanted to try something different, hadn’t he? He chuckled to himself. How would Herbert react seeing him in these?

Alfred resigned himself to another boring start of the ball, but to his surprise, his choice in clothing and his brushed back hair seemed to change things immediately. As he took his place beside Sarah, the girl glanced at him in her usual dismissive fashion, but then paused and did a double-take, staring at him with wide eyes.

“What?” he asked self-consciously, tugging at the cravat and his sleeves.

“Alfred?” Her voice sounded bewildered, and Alfred couldn’t help but frown.

“Yes?”

To his surprise, she flushed as she stared at him from head to toe before looking away. “It suits you.”

He blinked at the unexpected praise before grinning. “Thank you.” He felt a burst of joy at Sarah’s words, his heart fluttering at the compliment. Perhaps he imagined it, but she gripped his arm a little more tightly than before. As they started to descend the stairs, Alfred’s eyes found Herbert, and he all but forgot about Sarah being beside him.

He was wearing a deep blue waistcoat with bronze detailing. The color contrasted beautifully with his long blonde hair, which was flowing freely past his shoulders. His face was done with his usual cosmetics, dark colors highlighting his eyes and sharp cheekbones.

He looked lovely, as he always did, and Alfred felt slightly embarrassed at the thought. Still, there was nothing wrong with acknowledging it was there? Herbert always cleaned up well, he had spent enough time around him to admit it to himself.

Herbert finally looked up and Alfred caught the exact moment his outfit registered in the vampire’s mind. His jaw dropped, and Alfred would have laughed, had he not felt breathless when he caught Herbert’s eyes. His gaze held a silent promise—one that Alfred wasn’t familiar with, but still made him feel rather warm. Herbert’s eyes never left him as he made his way down the stairs.

The force with which he was wrenched away from Sarah made him raise his eyebrows. Finally face to face, Herbert seemed to be working his jaw as he tried to speak.

“Surprise?” Alfred said weakly.

Herbert’s eyes roamed every inch of his body, taking in the light purple waistcoat and its silver detailing, as well as the grey trousers he’d partially had to fold so he could fit into them.

“This is what I would have worn tonight,” he murmured. A hand brushed lightly on his shoulders and Alfred could not help but shiver.

“Yes, that’s why I wanted to wear them.” Herbert had made a striking figure in the purple coat, and Alfred thought he might look nice in them too. There was an odd heaviness to his gaze, so Alfred asked, “Are you upset?”

This seemed to startle him. “Upset? Upset?” His voice seemed to go up a few octaves in disbelief. He took a few deep breaths as if grasping for control. “I am the very opposite of upset, my darling.”

“So…you…like it?”

Herbert laughed helplessly as he pulled him into the dance. “Oh Alfred, you will be the death of me.”

Something was different about their dance that night. There was a tension palpable in the air, though Alfred could not pinpoint its source. Herbert kept shooting him odd glances and soft smiles, and he felt…well, he wasn’t certain how he felt about that. He was so absorbed in his thoughts that he almost missed Herbert’s words.

“I spoke to Father,” he said as they swayed from side to side. “But as I expected, he was uncooperative.”

Alfred deflated at his words. He had hoped the count would be more willing to speak about the situation.

“But,” Herbert looked contemplative. “It’s quite clear that he knows something about your situation. He looked agitated when I brought it up, but he immediately calmed when I mentioned it wasn’t me.”

“Did he say anything at all? About what causes it or how to fix it?” He already knew the answer, but he still felt disheartened when Herbert shook his head.

“He only warned me away from it, and said whoever was dealing with it should come to him directly to ask.” The ominous words made Alfred feel cold inside; even Herbert looked perturbed.

“Can’t I…get you to ask it again next loop?”

“I am an excellent liar, darling. But I’ve lived with Father for centuries, he would immediately know.” He did look regretful, and it was the only reason Alfred didn’t push him further. The dance ended, and they watched as Krolock led Sarah to the middle of the ballroom to bite her.

“Please take care when speaking to my Father. He can be…” He paused. “Intense.”

Alarmed, Alfred turned to him, but Herbert refused to meet his eyes. “What do you mean?”

“Just please exercise caution.”

His mind was abuzz as Herbert positioned them for their bite. As he leaned into his neck, he whispered, “Good luck, darling.”

Sei bereit…

Alfred sat up from bed and swallowed down his rising fear as he came to terms with what he had to do next.

Throughout the day, he skipped his usual habit of speaking with Herbert, and dodged the Professor’s pointed questions until the sun set. Once it was dark, he found himself in front of the count’s chambers, gathering all his courage to raise his fist and knock.

The door opened on its own, which didn’t help Alfred’s nerves at all. As if he weren’t frightened enough, the room was dark, with the moonlight peeking through the curtains the only light source. He would forever deny the loud shriek he’d let out when the door slammed shut behind him.

“Do come in, Alfred.” The count’s voice wafted towards him from somewhere deeper in the room, making the hairs on the back of his head stand. As he passed the foyer and entered the drawing room, he found the count seated on a plush seat by a large window, nursing a goblet. Alfred stopped a few feet before him, unsure where to stand, and waited until the count gazed up at him almost lazily.

“Welcome, what brings the esteemed vampire hunter to my chambers this evening?”

Alfred laughed nervously. “I’m just a research assistant.”

“Oh? I must be mistaken then. I had thought you were here to rid this world of this monster.” He said in a bored tone. “Is that not what you and your dear professor sought?”

The discussion was already devolving in a way Alfred had never expected. Still, he could not help but defend himself. “I only ever wanted to save Sarah!”

“Silly boy. Did it never occur to you that she has never wanted to be saved?”

Alfred bit her lip. “It has now…” he said quietly. “Do you…love her?”

A laugh escaped the count. “Love? The minds of the youth are truly a wonderful thing. This has nothing to do with love.” He all but spat the word. “Sarah wants freedom above everything else; she’s been trapped all her life. So I come along, a mysterious, beautiful person offering her everything she’s ever wanted, why wouldn’t she stay?”

Wasn’t that what Sarah herself told him? Krolock seemed to know her wants and dreams so intimately. But to have it all plainly laid out left Alfred flabbergasted.

“So you admit you’re just…using her?” The rising indignation trumped his fear of the count, though even he could not believe his own daring.

Thankfully, the count seemed to be amused more than anything. “Just as she uses me, Alfred. Sarah is no wilting flower; her cunning and her penchant for manipulations are the very reasons I was drawn to her in the first place.”

“I…” Alfred felt a bit dizzy at the turn of the conversation. “This isn’t what I came here for.”

“Oh? Then do tell, my dear Alfred. I am nothing if not a generous host.” He spread his arms wide almost mockingly. “What can I help you with?”

He pushed aside his outrage for Sarah, and recalled the words he rehearsed. “I am trapped in a cycle where time is rewound at the moment of my death. I would like to know what you know about it.”

It was clear that Krolock was taken aback by his words. He stared at Alfred for a few seconds in shock, before he broke out into laughter. It was a chilling sort of laugh—like one given by a villain at the end of a stage play, and Alfred felt a lump starting to form in his throat.

“Oh you poor, poor boy.” Krolock said as his mirth faded. “How long has it been for you?”

“Just under a month.”

“And you’re already looking to me for your answers? You must be truly desperate.”

“Did…did you do this to me?” he asked haltingly.

There was a hint of fangs when Krolock smiled at him. “I am flattered you believe I have that sort of power.”

“I haven’t found any hint of it in any of the books I’ve read. I’ve tried to look into other…” he almost said ‘monsters’, but he decided not to test the count’s temper. “Similar beings, but I still don’t see how this could have happened.”

“Have you heard the term Zeitenwende?”

Alfred frowned.

“The shift—a turning point in history, as you will.” He took a sip of red liquid in his goblet, and Alfred very much hoped it was wine.

“So this…Zeitenwende, it is what causes the loops?”

“In a manner of speaking.” Krolock made a noncommittal noise.

“You know how to end this then? You’re familiar with this phenomenon.”

“Unfortunately.” There was a hint of bitterness in Krolock’s tone.

“So you can tell me how to fix it!” The excitement in his voice could not be more palpable. Finally, he thought. He would be rid of this predicament and get on with his life.

“No.”

Alfred blinked. “…No?”

“No,” he repeated calmly.

“But…I…why?”

“Why should I help you?”

Floundering, Alfred could not keep the desperation out of his tone. “Because it’s the right thing to do?”

Krolock set down his glass with a soft clink, and stood from his chair. Slowly, he stalked towards Alfred, his dark eyes piercing in a way that reminded the young man of a dangerous predator. Alfred backed away until he felt his spine hit the mantle of the fireplace. Trapped with nowhere to go, he stared at the vampire, his whole body trembling in terror.

“You are an intelligent boy, young Alfred, but oh so naïve. What ever gave you the impression that I do things simply because they are ‘right’?”

“But then…why would you drop the hint about Zeitenwende?”

“Because it amuses me. To give you that small glimmer of hope, knowing it will get snuffed from you as the loops go by.” He leaned in and gave him a vicious smile. “The world is a cruel place, Alfred. Who am I to go against the grain? I’m certain you’ll have the time to figure it out.”

The mocking nature of his words made Alfred’s face heat up in anger. “Herbert is helping me! Why won’t y—hgk!”

His words were cut off as a pale hand shot out of its dark cloak and wrapped around his throat.

“If you know what’s good for you, you will cease involving my son in this.”

The lack of air was turning Alfred lightheaded, and he tried in vain to get the count to let go. “He…he offered.”

Krolock’s eyes widened, and his grip loosened. Gasping for breath, Alfred fell to his knees, tears streaming from his face. A hand fisted in his hair and wrenched his head up.

“Let me make myself very clear. You will stop speaking with my son or you will suffer the consequences.”

Perhaps it was Herbert’s undue influence, but his tongue decided to dole out a flippant remark. “How will you stop me? You won’t even remember this conversation.”

Krolock’s expression transformed into something truly terrifying and ugly. He bared his fangs, and a sound that bordered on an angry hiss escaped him. “I may not remember this. But you will.”

Before he could respond, Krolock jerked forward and suddenly, a hot, ripping pain burst across his throat. He was distantly aware of the count releasing him and leaving him to writhe on the floor. The burning on this throat seemed to creep into his veins, leaving a trail of fire he could not put out. He lay panting as his blood spilled out of his neck onto the cold floor.

“Goodbye, young Alfred.”

Sei bereit..

Chapter Text

When Alfred woke, he hastily brought a hand up to his throat and swiped at it in panic.

I’m alive, I’m alive, he thought hysterically. At the corner of his eye, he saw Abronsius jolt in bed and scramble to grab his glasses. Unable to stomach a confrontation after having been murdered a few moments before, Alfred jumped off the bed and ran out of the room.

When he came to his senses, he found himself curled on Herbert’s couch, where he had waited every morning since sealing their deal. His heart was still beating wildly, but everything was slowly coming back to him. The memory of Krolock’s terrifying visage made him swallow in fear, and he hugged the throw pillow to comfort himself.

Morning light was streaming into Herbert’s room, and he took solace in the fact that as long as the sun was shining, he was safe from any vampires. In any other loop, he would normally grab a book from the library, wait for Herbert to appear, and explain the situation to him. But the longer he sat on the couch, the more he started to dread speaking to him. What was he even supposed to say? “Your father murdered me last night”?

Simply thinking about uttering the words made his throat clam up, and tears spring to his eyes—he absolutely could not go through with it.

Mind made up, Alfred slowly gathered himself and headed to the library. Muscle memory kicked in as soon as he passed through the doors. He picked up the book he had been reading on cleric incantations and settled in a deeper section of the room, near a large window and away from the entrance.

The text was drier than the desert, but reading did settle his mind, offering a fine distraction from his current predicament. Once or twice, he heard someone enter and putter around the library, likely the professor, though his secluded position ensured he wasn’t bothered. Eventually, he lost himself in sea of words, barely noticing the sinking of the sun, and the darkening of the horizon.

His concentration was solely on the book, so much so that he almost jolted out of his seat in surprise when someone spoke up from behind him.

“Ah, my dear Alfred, of course you’d be an intellectual like myself.”

Despite his situation, Alfred still immediately relaxed upon hearing Herbert’s voice. He felt a small smile appear on his face. “Well, I…” As he slowly looked up from where he was seated, his voice seemed to disappear. The vampire was looking down at him in curiosity, but all Alfred could see was his fang peeking out of his lip as he grinned.

The blonde in front of him frowned when he stayed silent. “Are you all right?”

Cold sweat formed at the base of his neck as he suddenly remembered Krolock’s own fangs bared in anger.  Alfred could hear his heartbeat in his ears, and Herbert’s words sounded faint, as if he were submerged in water. He saw a clawed hand reach out, and he could not help the scream of terror that erupted from his mouth.

His next memory was of him on the carpeted floor, his back hitting a shelf as he curled into a tight ball. He had one hand extended as if he could ward Krolock away, while the other was clamped over his neck.

“Please, please don’t—,” he sobbed. “My blood—I can’t, I can’t breathe—,”

There were words being murmured at him, but he couldn’t make them out over his panic. The world was a blur, and his mind was whirling. He felt a trickle of moisture crawl down the column of his throat, and he keened in terror. No matter how hard he pressed, he could not seem to keep his blood inside his body.

“—have to let go, darling. You’re restricting your own windpipe—,”

Alfred felt a cold hand brush his, and he immediately jerked away. “Don’t touch me!”

“All right, no touching.” There was shuffling, and when he opened his eyes, he saw a blurry figure by the chair he’d evacuated. “I shall stay way over here, darling, all right? Straight across the room, I won’t lay a finger on you. But you have to let go of your neck, can you do that for me?”

“But it will all pour out—and then I’ll…” he felt himself become lightheaded at the thought.

“You’re turning rapidly paler than I am, Alfred. Please, you have to let go. Trust me, you’ll feel better.”

Should he trust them? He was finding it harder and harder to draw breath. But if he let go…

Well, if he let go and died, he would just loop, wasn’t that right? He would be back in his bed, safe and sound.

Slowly, he lifted the pressure from his throat and immediately his lungs filled with cool air. Awareness slowly started to return, and as he blinked away the haziness, the figure slowly came into focus.

“Herbert?”

“Back with us now, Alfred?” Though his tone was playful, Herbert’s eyes were tense and filled with worry. “What happened?”

“I—” Alfred colored in embarrassment as memories rushed back to him. Krolock had…hurt him in the past loop, and in his fear, he’d confused Herbert with his father.

“I apologize for frightening you, I was simply…” It was the first time he’d seen Herbert so concerned and out of his element, it made him avert his gaze.

“I had a nightmare,” Alfred said quickly, getting the words out in a rush. “Your—the count, he…ripped my throat out.” He let out an embarrassed but shaky laugh. “Sorry I was—it just terrified me, but none of that is your fault.”

There was silence from the blonde, and when he looked up, he found Herbert frozen, staring at him wide-eyed.

“Herbert?”

“I...” He blinked, and his expression shifted to immense guilt. “Alfred, I am so sorry.”

“What? No, you had nothing to do with this. My mind…”

“The nightmare…it was…When father said vampire hunters were here, I thought it funny to…guide your mind to those images. I did not think you would be affected to this extent.”

“What are you—”

Suddenly, everything slotted into place, and Alfred was stunned silent.

Herbert was not talking about Alfred’s run-in with the Count, he was referring to the nightmare he had during his first ever night in the castle, his last night before looping. He remembered the dreamy confusion, colors melting into one another. There was a struggle against Krolock, ending with him being bitten and watching himself grow hungry for Sarah’s blood.

It was with a distant sort of horror and growing nausea that he recalled the dream. And awash that backdrop of terror, he felt inexplicably betrayed.

“You did this to me?” he asked in shock and anger. The memory of Krolock’s bite, the heat of his blood pouring out of his neck, clouded his mind. There was nothing now but a haze of red.

Herbert raised his hands placatingly. “I did not think it would affect you so! It was supposed to be…” he trailed off.

“Funny?” Alfred hissed. “Oh yes, it was utterly hilarious having my throat ripped out and my blood poured out until I choked to death.”

The regretful expression on Herbert’s face did nothing but fuel the flames of his anger. How dare he look that pitiful after what he did?

“I suppose that’s what you dream about at night. And what else am I to expect from someone like you.” Alfred could barely recognize the cruelty in his own voice. Herbert looked at him in shock before schooling his expression to his haughty façade.

“You come into our home, intending to kill us—,”

“I have no intention of killing anyone!” he shouted. “I’m here because I wanted to get Sarah!”

“Ah yes, your lovely Sarah.” His tone turned disparaging. “Truly, love turns people blind—if you could not see how much she resents your presence.”

“You think I don’t know that?”

Herbert jerked in surprise.

It wasn’t something he hadn’t thought of before, but speaking it into existence made it all the more painful. It was a bitter truth that made his situation even more frustrating—he’d come here to save a girl he thought he was in love with who didn’t even need saving.

“You think I don’t know that Sarah is exactly where she wants to be? You think I don’t know just how colossally foolish I’ve been all this time?” Alfred bit out.

“If you knew then why—?”

“I am stuck in a never-ending day for a girl who played me like a fool! And who is there to blame? No one but me! I brought this all onto myself! I’m the reason I’m stuck in this—this hellhole with you, your father, and all the hundreds of these vampires around waiting to suck me dry!”

Herbert’s expression hardened; it was so foreign on his face that Alfred recoiled from it.

“If you expect me to act the part of the villain, then perhaps I should oblige you.” He took a menacing step forward, and just like his father, he bared his fangs at Alfred.

Fear rooted him to the spot, though he tried to stand firm. “Then bite me and be done with it!” he said with a bravado he did not feel. “It’s all—it’s all you’ve ever wanted from me! Why you’re like this—why you’re all helpful and—and…”

All the fight seeped out of Alfred, and after a moment, he realized his face was wet with tears.

“I trusted you.”

“I—you—what?” Herbert blinked in confusion before his expression turned to concern.

He turned away, unable to look at Herbert a minute longer. “I trusted you…I thought you wanted to help me.” He raised a hand to cover his neck.

“Alfred I—”

“Leave.”

He could hear Herbert shuffle in his place, as if hesitating.

“Please.”

There was a long bout of silence before the sound of soft footsteps filled the air, slowly fading as they moved further away from him. The door to the library creaked open then shut, and finally, Alfred was left alone.

He leaned against the bookshelf in weariness. It was…so unlike him to use words to wound another. Herbert had done nothing but help him, and it was unfair of him to direct his rage towards the vampire. There was barely any sense in the words he’d spewed towards him, and looking back now, he realized the blonde must have been incredibly puzzled by the sequence of events.

Alfred himself didn’t understand why he felt so betrayed after knowing what Herbert had done. It had been a long time ago, and Herbert…

Herbert did not deserve his harsh words, because Alfred was a stranger to him.

Though he continued to get to know him with every loop, the extent of the vampire’s memory would only ever be for that one night. He did not remember their dances, or their shared jokes over alarmingly lewd research journals. He would not know of the quiet moments by the fireplace, simply reading and relaxing in each other’s presence.

He would never know Alfred.

That night, he sat outside the balcony staring at the full moon, shivering in the cold. For the first time since their agreement, Herbert didn’t seek him out for the ball.

Alfred didn’t understand how he felt—all he knew was that everything hurt. At the moment, he had no hope of making sense of his thoughts and emotions. The edges of his mind were scraped raw by his fear and anger, and his eyes still burned from the tears he’d shed in his helplessness.

Despite trying to fight his fatigue, he felt his eyes slowly close as the snow turned his body numb.

Sei bereit…

When he woke, his first feeling was of relief. It had been unintentional on his part, but the experiment he’d once thought to try—expiring instead of being bitten—was conducted in the last loop. A small shiver crawled down his spine as he realized he’d passed out in the cold and likely died in his sleep. He was grateful for the fact that he’d woken up at all.

Alfred took a deep breath, attempting to center himself as he thought back to the events of the previous night. He very much regretted the way he comported himself with Herbert; his accusatory and scathing words were uncalled for, no matter how hurt he had felt at that moment.

He could admit it to himself, in the privacy of his own mind, that he’d grown to really like Herbert. The man behind the ridiculous innuendos was smart, funny, and genuinely engaging. Though he had never said it out loud, he had realigned Herbert in his mind from cautious ally to trusted friend, and the sudden realization that it was not the same for him—could never truly be the same for him—had been jarring.

Should he approach Herbert again, this loop? Or give himself some time? In the back of his mind, he could still feel the shadow of the count looming over him, and he worried about reacting horribly to Herbert’s presence once more. The worry gnawed at his sanity, but he realized that it would never go away until he made peace with the vampire.

Alfred forcibly pulled himself out of bed and headed over to Herbert’s chambers. He picked up a book at random from one of the shelves, but was too distracted to truly read and absorb it. Anticipation brewed inside him as he continuously glanced at the doors. When he caught himself doing so, he furiously berated himself and went back to reading the same line of text over and over again, until he gave up and started pacing around the room.

Finally, after hours of fretting, Herbert finally arrived.

Alfred froze mid-step when he heard the knob turn and the doors open. Herbert was yawning as he stepped through, still looking a little sleepy. When his eyes found Alfred’s still form in the middle of his chambers, his eyes sharpened with interest.

For Alfred, seeing Herbert free from the previous loop’s disgust and haughtiness made him sigh in relief. The blonde looked soft and a little rumpled, and his mind could not associate it with the count’s terrifying visage.

“Oh, Herbert, thank God you’re here!”

“So enthusiastic, my darling?” Herbert sounded both pleased and puzzled at the same time.

Alfred tripped over his words in his haste to speak. “I’m in a timeloop. You’re wearing midnight blue lacy smallclothes—no I have not seen it, I’ve somehow been spared that visual after all this time—and if that doesn’t convince you—you asked me to call you petit soleil.”

Herbert had opened his mouth to speak but immediately closed it with a clack at Alfred’s monologue. His eyes progressively grew wider the more Alfred spoke.

“I…did not mean to dump all of that on you, I apologize. I—I find myself still somewhat out of sorts from the previous loop.” He wiped a hand down his face and started pacing again, struggling to expend his nervous energy.

Herbert made several aborted attempts to speak, but each time, he opened his mouth, then made a face and closed it again.

“Well—I can probably do enough talking for the both of us. I—I found out what you did with my dreams in the last loop,” Alfred admitted.

Herbert’s face, which was already pale, suddenly lost all semblance of color.

“I didn’t really react well, and I didn’t give you time to explain. At that time all I felt was just…hurt. But I realize you don’t really know me, not like I’ve gotten to know you. And I just…well…I wanted to apologize for all the hurtful things I said. I didn’t mean any of it, and—” Alfred was cut off as Herbert pressed a finger against his lips to shush him.

“Alfred, I shall be honest. You are giving me such a headache.” Herbert massaged his temple with his free hand, and Alfred colored in embarrassment.

“Sorry.”

Herbert sighed. “Let me get this straight. You are stuck in a ‘time loop’ where everything rewinds, I assume to the time you wake up today. And somewhere you learn the make and color of my small clothes and that…pet name…likely from some version of myself, in an attempt to convince me that you’re truly in this loop. And then in the last loop, my…past actions were revealed to you, and you reacted badly, and now you feel guilty. Correct so far?”

At Alfred’s nod, he continued.

“Look, Alfred, I don’t remember anything of this ‘last loop’. This version of me that you’ve offended does not exist anymore. You don’t have to apologize for something I don’t remember.”

Alfred felt his stomach dropping. Herbert was right, the different versions of him that Alfred had met and befriended no longer existed past those nights. They disappeared in the void that kept him a prisoner of time.

“Even so,” he barreled past his existential concerns. “I still remember those events and I wronged you. And I want to fix that.”

“Well, what did you say? Maybe if you can recreate it, I can provide a proper acceptance, and you can forget this all happened.”

Just the thought of it made Alfred feel ill. “Nothing worth repeating to you. Ever.”

“That bad, hmmm?” Herbert joked, but he still looked shaken, and Alfred suddenly lamented his inability to approach the issue in a calm and controlled manner.

“I’m sorry, Herbert,” he said miserably. “I thought I was getting better at this, but I seem to keep messing this up, I didn’t mean to overwhelm you.”

“Hush now darling, can anyone even truly get used to whatever time looping nonsense you seemed to have gotten yourself into? It’s all right, water under the bridge and all that.”

Apologizing to this current incarnation of Herbert did not provide the catharsis he’d hoped it would, and he found himself frustrated once more. “Sorry, I’m—having difficulty moving past this.”

Herbert examined him quietly, before taking a deep breath, as if to brace himself. “Darling—Alfred,” he began gravely, and the seriousness in his tone was something he rarely ever heard from the man before. “It is I who owe you an apology, for what I’ve done.”

Alfred began to protest, and Herbert hushed him again with a finger against his lip.

“Let me finish, darling,” he gave him a sad smile. “I weaved a dream into your mind last night, for nothing more than my amusement. I had thought it funny putting those thoughts into the dreams of a vampire hunter and tormenting him in that way.”

Herbert looked down, his smile wavering. “And perhaps I…I thought you might be more receptive to a vampire’s bite afterwards.”

“By terrifying me?” Alfred asked incredulously.

A tremulous laugh escaped him, and to Alfred, it sounded as if he was exposing a critical weakness. “Weaving dreams isn’t an easy task. I think I colored the spell with my own desire for companionship—and I forgot that it also adapted to your state of mind.”

Desire for companionship? Was Herbert…lonely? The thought hurt Alfred’s heart.

“I—I accept your apology, Herbert. Truly, it was a long time ago for me, so it is easier to let it go.”

“It must have truly shaken you,” Herbert said pensively. “Otherwise, why would you have ‘taken it badly’?”

Alfred looked down. “In the loop before that…your father…he…” Unconsciously, he scratched at his throat. When he glanced up at Herbert, he found the vampire staring at his neck with a narrowed gaze, and Alfred immediately dropped his hand guiltily.

“I think you should tell me everything, mon chéri.”

“Ummm…it was really noth—,”

“Everything.”’

The pair migrated to the balcony, in want of fresh air, and ended up talking for hours.

Herbert was unrelenting once he set his mind to something, and he didn’t stop until he was satisfied with Alfred’s retelling of events. He was livid and horrified when he heard about his father’s actions, regretful when they spoke of their argument in the last loop, and thoughtful when they came to all the looping business.

Alfred found himself relaxing more and more, as he spoke to Herbert. His mere presence was soothing in a way that no other’s was, and his attentiveness in conversation made Alfred feel truly heard for the first time in a long while.

So it was with great melancholy when Herbert pulled away from his perch on the balcony rail, and told him he needed to go prepare for the ball.

As it was, he couldn’t stop himself from blurting out, “Would you stay with me?”

The surprise on Herbert’s face was immediately overtaken by forced neutrality. “I’m the count’s son, I cannot miss the ball. It only happens every so often.”

“Oh.” Alfred’s heart sank. “Of course, it was foolish of me to suggest it. I’m sorry. Please, don’t mind me, I—I’m sure you have to go and prepare.”

Herbert made a noncommittal noise, then walked off, leaving Alfred freezing on the balcony. It wouldn’t be long now until the cold took him again. He dashed away his tears and sniffed, trying not to look as pathetic as he felt.

Suddenly, a thick, heavy blanket fell over his shoulders. Even in his confusion, Alfred instinctively drew it closer to him. “Wha—?”

His words were cut off by Herbert plopping down beside him.

Alfred stared at him, hardly believing he’d stayed. “But, the ball?”

Herbert gave him an inscrutable look before smiling. “It’s a nice night out, it would be a shame to miss out on this view.”

It was a bald-faced lie—there was nothing much to witness between the continuous snowfall, and the hazy sky. Still, Alfred couldn’t deny the joy that bloomed in his heart at Herbert’s presence.

“Of course.” He grinned back unreservedly. “The view is gorgeous. And the company isn’t half bad either.”

There was a light flush on Herbert’s face even as he snickered. “Now I believe all this time-looping nonsense. You cannot be the same shy boy I met yesterday.”

“Only due to a certain friend’s influence.”

“Is that what we are? Friends?” There was a yearning in Herbert’s voice that he was unable to hide, and it spoke to that part of Alfred that had been feeling so alone since this time-looping mess started.

“Most definitely.”

Herbert’s face turned wistful. “I hope you get out of this predicament, if only so I could actually get to know you, past these stolen moments that I…won’t remember.”

Alfred reached out and it felt natural to clasp Herbert’s hand in his. He squeezed it in comfort. “I’ll remember for both of us, then.”

It felt like a promise, a vow to take to his grave, and he felt a little embarrassed by his words.

Herbert gave a low chuckle, but his voice was warm as he spoke.

“I’ll hold you to that, Alfred.”

Chapter Text

“Zeitenwende?” Herbert tapped his lips as he stared at the bookshelf in front of him. “As in ‘the turning point in history’?”

Alfred shrugged. “That’s what your father said.”

“It’s strange that he would drop that clue. I have never known him to be so…helpful.”

The memory of the count’s looming presence made him swallow thickly. “He said it amused him to give me a small glimmer of hope. I think he believed it would…occupy me,” he said delicately.

At the beginning of the current loop, Alfred had sat the vampire down and told him a heavily abridged version of his encounter with the count. Though he did not feel like he had to hide it from Herbert necessarily, he didn’t want him to become distracted by the story of his unfortunate demise by his father’s hand. In previous iterations, Herbert had become so incensed by his mistreatment that he had almost marched over to his father’s rooms to confront him, which Alfred did not want a repeat of.

Herbert hummed. “A point in time so important that…what? Fate itself decided to intervene?” he scoffed. “That sounds absurd.”

“Perhaps it’s something closer to crossroads? Like a point in time where even the slightest changes can produce staggeringly different results?”

“I’m unconvinced,” Herbert pursed his lips. “Then again, based on what you’ve told me, we haven’t really had any luck finding anything else in these books. And I’d like to assume father wouldn’t lead you astray.”

Alfred coughed, but otherwise didn’t comment.

“Well,” he turned back to the shelf. “No time like the present, I suppose?”

Rolling his eyes at the little joke, Alfred took his place beside Herbert and helped him scour the section on history for anything that could be of use. It was utterly mind-numbing work, but at least he wasn’t doing it alone. Herbert filled the white noise of the library with little sighs, tuts, and hums that made him relax. Those little moments reminded him of the warmth of their budding friendship. Even the reminder that Herbert’s memories also reset in every loop didn’t chase away the affection—besides, he had already promised to remember for both of them, had he not?

He looked over at where the blonde was standing, eyeing the books rather huffily. The man was always so alive—it was strange to think of him as technically deceased. The count fit into the stereotypical stories of vampires, utterly gloomy and dark, whereas Herbert was like a ray of sunshine piercing through the sad, grey clouds.

Even the simple act of perusing shelves was done with so much enthusiasm and energy. His face was expressive as he sighed, pouted, and rolled his eyes at the literature. Long, slender fingers glided across the titles as he muttered them out loud. Alfred realized he’d been staring for a good minute or so, and he was only grateful that Herbert was so engrossed in his task that he didn’t notice, else he’d have to suffer another round of teasing.

Guiltily, he returned to his own inspection of books. As he moved through the shelves, he noticed a small, leatherbound book tucked in the middle of two larger tomes. Alfred pulled it free and examined the cover for a title, finding it blank. As he flipped it open, he quickly realized it was not a historical book of any sort, but a journal.

The pages were worn from age, and some of the words had faded, but partial entries could still be read from the brittle paper.

“…quite strange and the castle grounds can be terribly lonely! Oh, what shall I do without my faithful Alina? When I walk through these halls, I can only see everywhere that she is not. Even the flowers mourn her loss, for there is no one to speak secrets to them any longer…”

“…it is akin to a knife upon my heart. The memory of her is scattered throughout these walls, and I am constantly reminded that she no longer walks through them. I wander aimlessly, a mere shell of a man…”

Alfred flipped through pages of the man’s day-to-day life. It seemed he had lost his wife, or perhaps his daughter? It wasn’t quite clear; he could not get the full context of his words. There was truly no reason to continue reading, but Alfred found himself feeling sympathy for this stranger. He read through a couple more entries until he reached one that made his breath catch.

“…I saw Alina again today. T’was but a glimpse but I am certain! Father had always said that the walls of our home had been imbued with some matter of magic. Perhaps it is time for me to read through those tomes…”

The man’s writing grew more and more erratic as the days went by. Some pages were utterly illegible, and then some had a strange script written on them, circular symbols that Alfred had never before seen in his life. Intrigued, he flipped page after page, until he reached the second to the last entry, which only had one word written on it. The letters were blocky, practically engraved, as if they had been traced over and over again.

“ZEITENWENDE”

Alfred frowned and moved to the last page.

“…I have failed. In my hubris, I have upset the delicate balance. May the Lord have mercy upon my soul.”

“Did you find anything?” Herbert’s voice by his ear startled Alfred so badly that he jumped in place. As he whirled to face him, trying to calm his frantic heart, he found the vampire gazing at him in amusement.

“Well?” he said, his eyes flicking to the small black book. “What’s that?”

“Some sort of journal,” Alfred said, passing it over to Herbert. “It mentions Zeitenwende at the end. I think it’s from someone who lived in this castle. Do you know an Alina?”

Herbert blinked rapidly, as if in disbelief as he read through the pages. “Alina?” he asked. “Only from the family tapestry. I believe she’s my great grandmother?”

So, the man writing had to have been the count’s grandfather. Logically, Alfred knew that Herbert had not simply sprung from the ground, that he had a family line like many others. But to hear him speak casually of his ‘great grandmother’ was quite jarring.

“He mentioned that the castle is imbued with old magic, is that true? Or was he just…?”

“Mad?” Herbert finished for him as he quickly flipped through the frenzied writing. “A bit of both. The castle is old, and the magic surrounding it is rather…incomprehensible. Unknowable. Unfathomable.”

Alfred shifted uneasily. “It sounded like he wanted to use that magic.”

As Herbert turned to the last page, he stared at the writing with a squint. “Well, that’s…ominous.” There was a disturbed look in his eyes. “I do not want to speculate without any facts, but if I am reading this correctly…”

“What is it?”

“It seems Great grandfather Adalbert tried to bring Alina back from the dead, somehow. Using the magic within these walls.” His lips thinned. “But something went wrong, I assume with his ritual or whatever it was he sought to do. He mentions ‘upsetting the balance’.”

With a jolt, Alfred realized what he was implying. “You don’t think that’s what’s causing the time loops?”

“Adalbert tried to bend the castle’s magic to fit his own agenda,” Herbert murmured. “But instead, he accidentally set a curse in the walls.”

Alfred stared at him, horrified. “An eternity without Alina, reliving his failure over and over?”

“A fitting punishment for someone trying to turn back time and bring someone he loved back to life.”

Alfred ran a shaky hand through his hair. He collapsed onto the plush sofa and covered his face with his hands, feeling rather overwhelmed. There was a bit of shuffling, and he felt the cushion dip as Herbert took a seat beside him. A cool hand brushed against his scalp soothingly before finding its way onto his shoulder. The next thing he knew, he was pressed against Herbert’s side, the vampire gathering him into a loose hug.

“W-what did I do to get cursed?” he said miserably.

“That I do not know. What I do know is that time did move on, because we’re here, and you’re in his place. This means Adalbert managed to get out of the loops eventually,” Herbert pointed out optimistically. “We’ll get through this, darling,” he said softly.

“I don’t want to be stuck like this forever,” Alfred whispered.

Herbert’s grip tightened on him briefly. “You won’t. I promise you.”

It should have sounded like false platitudes, but coming from Herbert, Alfred couldn’t help but believe him. Enveloped in his arms, he felt wholly safe. Herbert was the only thing anchoring him to his sanity and—dare he say it?—his humanity. Having that connection every loop helped remind him that although time reset, his actions were not without consequence. The people in his life were still real, even if they no longer remembered what happened in the morning.

After a few moments, Alfred reluctantly withdrew from his embrace. “I suppose there’s still much to do. There’s not a lot of time before the ball now.”

“Oh darling,” Herbert adopted his insufferably dramatic tone. “Surely we have enough time for you to rest upon my bosom?”

Though he was used to Herbert’s jests, Alfred still found himself reddening. He swatted him away playfully. “While I am sure your bosom is quite comfortable, we do need to at least check if Adalbert has any other notes we can refer to?”

Herbert heaved a great, world-weary sigh. “All right then, I’ll try to see if I can parse anything else from his ramblings, you just sit there and look pretty.”

Alfred felt almost offended, but as Herbert slowly went through the journal pages, he found that he wasn’t able to contribute much to anything. Feeling rather useless, he shuffled back to the bookshelves and tried to sift through the heavy tomes for more journals. Two shelves later, and Alfred was all but ready to just be done with the loop.

“I feel like I’ve seen this symbol somewhere…” Herbert murmured, almost as if to himself. When Alfred looked over at him, he found the vampire tracing one of the symbols on Adalbert’s journal almost absently.

Alfred walked over to him and peered at the journal over his shoulder. The mark was circular in nature, though the lines did not connect. Instead, at the top middle, there was what seemed to be an unfinished triangle, one side was drawn deliberately in such a way that the two corners did not connect. Just beside the triangle, there was another much smaller circle.

“If you squint, it kind of looks like a snake,” Alfred said offhandedly.

Herbert gave him a skeptical look. “A snake?”

“See?” He reached out a finger and traced the strange triangle. “This could be the jaw, and this unfinished side its fangs.”

“And the small circle its eye…” Herbert trailed off, then he gasped. “Darling, you’re a genius!”

“I am?”

“It’s an ouroboros! Very simplified in nature, which is why I didn’t recognize it at first!” He sniffed. “Whatever we can say of Adalbert, I can tell that he was no artist at least.”

“What’s the significance of the ouroboros? Is it part of his spell or something?”

“Possibly. The ouroboros is a figure of a snake devouring itself, it’s said to symbolize death and rebirth—the unending cycle.”

A shiver went up Alfred’s spine. “That lends credence to your theory about what he was working on.”

“There was a book I passed earlier,” Herbert shot out of his seat and strode over to the bookshelves, buzzing with excitement. “I dismissed it because it was untitled, but it had an ouroboros symbol on its spine.”

Alfred hung back but watched him anxiously as he looked through the shelves.

“Aha!” Herbert pulled out a thick, heavy journal from the shelf and flipped it open. As he skimmed through it, his gaze turned blank, then with much more urgency, he started turning page after page. There was a brief moment of quiet, before he slammed it shut and stared down at it with an expression of undisguised fear.

“What…what is it?” Alfred asked in a hushed voice.

“It’s written in Venin.”

“Venin? I’ve never heard of it.”

Herbert licked his lips in a nervous gesture. “I’d be surprised if you did. Otherwise known as the Poisoned Tongue—it’s a branch of Black Magic.”

“All right,” Alfred said slowly. “I can see why that would be bad.”

The vampire laughed, the edge of it bordering on hysterical. “You don’t understand.” His voice trembled, alarming Alfred. “Venin is spoken and practiced by only one group.”

He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and very gently placed the book back down on the desk.

“Herbert?” Alfred asked in concern.

There was a mix of resignation and terror in Herbert’s eyes as he opened them.

“Venin is the language of the hags.”

Chapter Text

Many loops ago, Herbert had hinted about his past with hags, and he’d politely sidestepped that conversation. Now, faced with the reality of the uncovered journal written in the hags’ language, it seemed that they could no longer delay that conversation.

If only Herbert weren’t on the verge of a panic attack.

“Herbert, please calm down,” Alfred said as he watched the blonde pace across the room. The Venin text lay abandoned on their table, looking for all the world as if it were a normal book.

“I am calm!” Herbert snapped.

“You’re going to burn a hole through the carpet,” he chided lightly as he stepped into the vampire’s path, effectively stopping him in his tracks. Herbert rocked on his heels, and Alfred steadied him by the shoulders.

“You don’t understand.” Herbert shook his head but did not wrench himself away from Alfred.

“Then help me understand.”

“I can’t. There’s too much…” He trailed off, looking rather lost.

“All right, so I think you need to relax a bit. In the meantime, maybe I can take a look,” Alfred said, reaching for the book.

“Don’t—!”

Herbert’s warning came too late. As Alfred’s fingers brushed against the pages, he felt a prickling pain against his skin.

“Ouch!” He flinched back, shaking his hand to take away the sting.

“Hold out your hand,” Herbert demanded. Alfred complied, and once Herbert had his hand in his palm, he held it gingerly and examined it with supreme gentleness. After turning it around a couple of times, he let out a sigh.

“May I?” Herbert asked.

Alfred looked back at him, confused. “I suppose—”

The rest of his words disappeared behind a choked gasp as Herbert raised Alfred’s hand to his lips and kissed his fingers. Heat pooled in his stomach, and he could only watch, entranced, when Herbert looked up and met his gaze. He felt arrested by his stare—the warmth of Herbert’s lips on the tips of his fingers felt far more intimate than any bite he had received. There was a low buzzing in his ears, and he was struck with lightheadedness. He only realized he was holding his breath once the vampire pulled away, and he found himself almost panting.

“What—” Alfred coughed when his voice cracked. “What was that?”

He expected a smirk from Herbert, but instead, he got a surprised glance. “I thought you’d already been bitten by me?”

“What does that have to do with it?” His tone was still rather high and thin, betraying his flustered state. Though with how hot his face felt, he was sure it was rather obvious. Herbert was still holding onto his hand, which didn’t help things.

“Well, I assume it doesn’t hurt you at all, at least if I’m doing it right?”

“Yes?”

Herbert cocked his head, as if he hadn’t realized this was something he needed to explain to Alfred. “Whenever I bite anyone, there’s a wound. If I did nothing else, that would hurt. A lot.”

“All right?”

“So, I soothe it with my tongue.”

Alfred choked once more. “What do you mean with your tongue!?”

Herbert laughed. “Don’t look so scandalized, darling. It’s simply part of our,” he gestured as he looked for the correct word. “Vampirism.” When Alfred continued goggling at him, he continued. “We lick over the wound and it, hmmm, numbs it? Partially heals it? I’m unsure, but it helps turn the bite into something less painful.”

Alfred gaped at him. “Is that why Sarah’s bite hurts?”

“A large part of it is intent. I don’t want to hurt you. But she probably can’t control herself and simply just bites down, hard.”

Alfred shivered and raised his other hand to rub his neck. Herbert’s eyes tracked the movement, and his expression darkened as he watched. To distract him, Alfred blurted out, “I think my hand’s all right now, thanks.”

Herbert blinked and glanced down where their hands were still linked, as if surprised. “Oh. Wonderful.” He gave Alfred’s hand a squeeze before letting go.

Surprisingly, his hand truly was fine. The sting from the book was gone, and as he flexed his fingers, there didn’t seem to be anything else amiss.

“So.” He cleared his throat. “Even just touching the book is dangerous?”

“When I said it was the ‘Poisoned Tongue’, I meant it.” Herbert grimaced. “Venin texts are imbued both with the intent of the writer, and the magic of the script itself. It’s used to hide powerful spells and incantations behind this ‘defense’, so to speak. Writing in the language poisons you, reading the language poisons you, touching—”

“Also poisons you?” Alfred looked down at his hand in alarm.

“Well, let’s just say that the more you interact with it, the more likely you are to get poisoned.”

“If that’s the case, how come it didn’t hurt you when you opened it?”

Herbert pursed his lips. “It’s a rather innocuous book when you first look at it, likely to get overlooked. Once you know what it contains, or rather what it could contain, then it circumvents you by other means such as physical harm.” He shifted in place, as if uncomfortable. “I know certain ways to protect myself from magic such as this.”

Alfred had a suspicion that he knew more than he let on, but he wasn’t sure how to broach the topic. “Herbert?”

“Yes?”

He licked his lips and spoke hesitantly. “I once asked you, in one of the loops, if you had any history with hags.”

Herbert grew still, and his expression shuttered.

“You told me to ‘ask another time.’ Would now be that time?”

His friend’s already pale skin turned whiter, and suddenly, Alfred found himself rather ashamed for having asked. He looked down, unable to meet Herbert’s eyes.

“Forgive me, you don’t have to—it’s not my place to ask—”

“Her name was Olga.” Herbert said quietly. When Alfred glanced up, he found Herbert standing stiffly, arms across his chest as if hugging himself in comfort. “She lives deep in the forest—the one that stretches near the castle grounds.”

“How did you find her?” he asked in an equally hushed tone.

Herbert laughed, it was ugly and bitter. “I sought her out. In my youth.” He took a deep, shuddering breath. The clear terror and pain in his eyes had Alfred moving closer and wrapping an arm around his shoulders for support. He sat both of them down onto the plush sofa, and Herbert sagged into the seat against Alfred’s side.

“I wanted to see the sun again,” he whispered, then closed his eyes as if in immense agony.

Alfred had never stopped to think that vampires might miss the sun. Considering what it did to them, he had thought they universally abhorred it. But then again, he kept on forgetting that Herbert was once a man, and he likely had never seen a sunrise in centuries.

Herbert trembled and Alfred rubbed his hand up and down his arm soothingly. “I heard that hags knew all sorts of spells, incantations. I thought that maybe…maybe she could heal me.” His voice was full of derision and self-contempt. Gently, Alfred pulled the vampire into his arms and tucked his head in the crook of his neck. Herbert grasped at the front of Alfred’s coat as if it were his only anchor.

“You don’t have to go on,” Alfred murmured in a soft tone. His eyes pricked with tears, thinking of what his friend might have endured at the hands of the hag. It was clear he suffered greatly, and Alfred was sorry to have asked. He never wanted him to relive any of that.

“Sh-she never referred to me by name. She called me these…these endearments like I was a beloved pet,” he spat the word. “I despise her. I—” His breath hitched as it devolved into a sob. “I had hoped never to see her again.”

Alfred tightened his hold on Herbert. “And you don’t have to.”

Herbert shook his head but didn’t say anything else.

He wasn’t sure how long they stayed huddled together. Alfred didn’t let go, even though his arm turned numb from its position on the couch. Herbert’s head was still cradled on his shoulder, and he could feel the soft puffs of his breath against his neck. He rested his cheek on Herbert’s head and started carding a hand through the blonde’s hair. Herbert’s lashes fluttered as he did so; Alfred could feel them lightly brushing against his collar.

He wasn’t sure if the hug was more for him or for Herbert, but he felt comforted all the same.

“I’m sorry for what you had to go through,” Alfred murmured into his hair.

Herbert huffed. “You’ve nothing to be sorry for. I haven’t even explained anything.”

Alfred pulled back slightly just so he could look Herbert in the eye. This close, he could still see the tears clinging to his lashes. He couldn’t stop himself from wiping a stray droplet as it fell down Herbert’s cheek.

“You owe no one any explanations, least of all me, Herbert.”

“But the book—”

“You’re more important than this, do you understand?” Alfred said vehemently, surprising both himself and the vampire.

Herbert gazed back at him wide-eyed. “I—”

“I have all the time in the world to handle this book, maybe we’ll find another way, maybe we don’t, but we don’t have to do it now. My primary concern right now is you.” Alfred squeezed his shoulder. “I’m your friend, and I don’t want you hurt.”

“Friends? Is that what we are?” Herbert murmured unknowingly echoing his words from a previous loop. He was searching Alfred’s eyes for something, though he couldn’t tell what it was.

“Yes. If that’s what you want,” he said. There was something soft and warm between them that Alfred felt would break if he spoke loudly.

“And if I want to be more?”

“Like best friends?” he asked, genuinely confused.

Herbert burst into laughter. He rested his forehead onto Alfred’s, and he could feel the vibration of his joy. Their breaths mingled for a brief moment before Herbert pulled away. Alfred wasn’t certain why he suddenly felt disappointed.

“You’re very sweet, Alfred.” It seemed Herbert aimed for teasing, but it sounded more sincere.

“Thank you?”

Herbert stood from the sofa and wiped his face with a hand. He took a deep breath before turning back to Alfred with a tremulous smile. “I’ll look through the book, all right? Just the first few pages. Then we can decide what to do from there.”

“Are you sure you’re all right doing that?” Alfred asked in concern.

“Naturally.” Herbert waved him away with a certain bravado Alfred wasn’t certain he actually felt.

At that point, it felt offensive to ask again, so Alfred kept his mouth shut as Herbert approached the journal with the bearing of a man poking a wild animal. Herbert hunched over the book and placed both hands on either side. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes.

Alfred couldn’t see anything different, but the air felt heavy, as if there was a sudden flooding of incense in the room. When Herbert’s eyes opened, there was a flash of something bright in his pupils. He relaxed slightly, then with deliberate motion, he opened the book and started reading.

All was quiet for a moment as Alfred watched Herbert in his task. There was a slight crease in his forehead as he concentrated. His mouth moved as he read, mouthing out the syllables, but not daring to speak them out loud. His breath hitched and his eyes widened as he turned the page and all too soon, he shut the book with a loud thud and turned his back on it.

Herbert looked mildly spooked as he leaned back on the table.

Alfred was at his side immediately. “What do you need?”

“I’m fine, darling. Just a little…taken aback is all.” Herbert waved him away, taking deeper and longer breaths. “The journal wasn’t written by a hag.”

“No?” he asked, puzzled. “Whose is it then?”

“Marietta, Adalbert’s daughter. I don’t know much about her. She died quite young, unmarried. It’s said she had some sort of illness.”

Alfred’s eyes widened as realization hit him. “Do you think writing in Venin killed her?”

“That does seem likely.” He grimaced. “Though the question of just why she was writing in Venin is a mystery.”

“And what information she’s guarding by doing so.” Alfred’s gaze flicked to the book. “Do you believe it has a connection to Adalbert’s curse?”

Herbert raised a hand to his temple, massaging it lightly. “The first few pages seem to be an introduction to the concept of Zeitenwende, though I wasn’t able to parse much from it yet. I do believe it will take some time.”

“Herbert, I am unsure if we should pursue this.” Alfred said in concern.

“This is the best lead you’ve gotten in the last—what? Month or so? You can’t not pursue it.” Herbert countered.

“But how do I explain this to you? I use the midnight blue small clothes and petit soleil thing to convince you of my sincerity. But I doubt you’d want to do anything with me once I bring up the Venin.”

Herbert sucked a breath through his teeth. “I may be a bit reticent at first. But…” He briefly appeared uncomfortable before steeling himself. “Tell me that you know what happened with me and Olga, and that you don’t want to approach her for help.”

Alfred balked. “I don’t want to guilt you into helping me!”

“It’s all true…from a certain point of view,” he argued. “I know myself, Alfred. Once you mention Olga, I’ll crumble like an ancient tower.”

Alfred pinched his brow. “I already told you, Herbert. I don’t want to see you hurt.”

“I give you permission to hurt me.”

“That doesn’t help matters!” he said almost hysterically.

“All right, all right, no need to get prissy,” he said huffily, but there was a shade of relief in his features. “Tell me about Adalbert. Then Marietta and her journal. Knowing myself, a good family mystery would be enough to draw me in to help. Even if it’s dangerous.” Then he looked thoughtful. “Maybe especially because it’s dangerous.”

“Really?” he asked flatly.

Herbert tittered. “I do love some family drama.”

“You’ll be the death of me,” Alfred said in exasperation.

Herbert winked at him. “I do get to bite you, so it’s true from a certain point of view.”

Alfred could only let out a groan in response.