Chapter 7 The Transformation

Eleanor's POV:

I stepped back, feeling a wave of fear. "I'm... I'm sorry, I didn't know..."

Adrian took a deep breath, trying to calm his anger. "When Vivienne discovered people were using children, she personally reported it to the council and helped Sebastian investigate. She is the most honorable, most upright person. I have served her for over a century and have never seen her compromise her principles."

I noticed the sparkle in his eyes and the gentleness in his voice when he spoke of his mistress, conveying something deeper than mere respect.

"I'm truly sorry," I said sincerely. "I shouldn't have jumped to conclusions."

Adrian's expression softened slightly. "You were ignorant, not malicious. I can forgive that this time." He checked his watch. "Now, we should begin today's lessons. First is appearance—which means completely changing your current... state."

I nodded, realizing I had much to learn about this new world.

The mall's lights hurt my eyes. Adrian led me through one high-end boutique after another, his movements elegant and efficient, as if he had performed this task hundreds of times.

"As the servant of a distinguished vampire, your appearance directly reflects your master's taste and status," he explained while selecting clothes. "You need to look clean, neat, and professional, but not overly conspicuous. Your presence should be a subtle complement, not the main attraction."

I looked at the clothes he selected—simple black pants, gray and navy blue shirts, several high-quality jackets, and a pair of black leather shoes that looked both comfortable and formal. No bright colors, no fancy decorations.

"These... all look expensive," I said quietly, anxiously looking at the price tags.

Adrian made a slight humming sound. "Sebastian is an ancient and distinguished lord. His servant wearing cheap clothing would be an insult to his status."

The salesperson guided us to a private fitting room, where Adrian sat on the couch outside, waiting for me to try on the clothes he had selected.

When I emerged in the first outfit, I barely recognized the girl in the mirror. The deep blue silk shirt accentuated my pale skin, and the black pants outlined my slender figure. The outfit was simple yet elegant, nothing like the oversized T-shirts and sweatpants I was used to.

"Much better," Adrian commented, nodding with satisfaction. "But your hair needs professional care. Next stop—the salon."

Four hours later, I stood in front of a mirror in a high-end salon, barely recognizing myself. My black hair had been cut into elegant layers, falling softly on my shoulders; my skin looked smoother after treatment; even my nails had been shaped into perfect ovals.

"Now that's more like it," Adrian said with satisfaction, leading me to the next store. "Now, we need to buy some personal items and essentials for you."

We walked into a high-end perfume store, where Adrian selected a subtle fragrance. "Never use strong perfume," he told me. "Vampires have very sensitive noses. Subtle, fresh scents are most appropriate."

Until two in the afternoon, we moved between various stores, purchasing everything from underwear to book bags. Adrian's taste was impeccable, and every item he selected was both practical and elegant.

"As a servant, your primary task is to anticipate your master's needs," he explained during our afternoon tea. "You must remain alert at all times, ensuring everything runs smoothly. Sebastian rests during the day, which means you need to handle all daytime affairs—receiving packages, arranging meetings, managing household matters."

I listened quietly, trying to remember every detail.

"Next, I'll teach you specific household and management skills," Adrian continued. "Including how to answer phone calls, schedule appointments, and handle emergencies. A vampire's servant is not merely a domestic worker, but a guardian and proxy."

When we finally returned to the car, with the trunk packed full of shopping bags, I finally gathered the courage to ask the question that had been bothering me all day: "Adrian, do you... like being a servant?"

Adrian put down the steering wheel and turned to me, his expression surprisingly gentle. "I don't merely like it, Eleanor. It is my honor. Vivienne has given me more than I could have imagined—security, purpose, and dignity. Before becoming her servant, I was just a homeless orphan; now I am a respected butler."

He noticed my skeptical expression and smiled slightly. "Look at it this way—you humans keep dogs and cats, right? Well, we serve vampires. If humans can have pets, why can't vampires have us? It's all part of the natural order of things."

I couldn't help but laugh at this unexpected comparison.

Adrian seemed pleased by my reaction. "Laughter is good. You'll need a sense of humor in this new world."

Sebastian's POV:

The stale scent of blood and fear permeated the air as I entered the dimly lit dungeon. Eight hundred years of life hadn't accustomed me to the dungeon's atmosphere—every trace of scent here told stories of despair and death.

Fifteen years. My pursuit had finally ended three days ago when I brought the traitor Donovan back and locked him in this dungeon. Now, he was restrained with specially crafted silver chains, his body weakened but his eyes still maintaining that arrogant gleam that made my anger rise anew.

"Master." A weak smile played on Donovan's lips, but I could smell his fear, sweet and nauseating like rotting fruit. "I didn't expect you'd come to see me personally."

I didn't respond, just stood outside the cell, feeling my crimson eyes burn in the darkness. When I finally spoke, I kept my voice deep and cold.

"Fifteen years, Donovan," I said. "Because of you, I lost my territory. Because of you, my reputation was damaged. Because of you, the council questioned my loyalty."

"It was just a mistake, Master," Donovan argued, the chains making a harsh sound as he moved. "I never meant to betray you—"

"Silence." I made my voice cut like a blade, and Donovan immediately fell quiet. "You no longer have the right to speak."

I raised my hand, grasping the invisible threads of his mind. Donovan's face suddenly contorted, an uncontrollable scream of agony erupting from deep in his throat. This ability—mental control, projecting pain directly into the target's nerves—was one of the powers that came with age.

"I should thank Theodore for allowing me to handle you personally," I said calmly, curling my fingers slightly as Donovan's screams grew sharper. "You know how much Theodore values rules, and you, my dear childe, have broken too many."

As I released my fingers, Donovan collapsed to the ground, gasping desperately as if he'd just survived drowning.

"Execution?" Donovan looked up, fear finally completely replacing the arrogance in his eyes. "Master, please—"