Barmond still did not think that he was, in any way, attractive. He examined himself in the mirror that Yoven had been provided to shave just to prove it to himself. Of course, he was used to his own face, he wore it after all, but sometimes it just caught his eye and he had to take a little time to examine it.

He passed a hand on his cheek. On the day of his death, when Otto had accepted to turn him, he had taken care to share every last trace of his beard, knowing it would never grow again. Back then, his reasoning had been that it would be more convenient for feeding, that he had seen many bearded vampires get blood all over their face and had thought it to be repulsive. Now, thinking back to Hugo and his beard, he wondered if that had been the right choice. Hugo might be an oaf, but a handsome oaf and his beard only complimented that.

Ack, not that Barmond would ever get one anyway. There was no use lamenting what was not meant to be, even if he still spent a while longer pulling at the little crow's feet at the corner of his eyes.

He opened his mouth and examined his teeth. His fangs, more specifically. He ran his thumb over the tip of the upper ones, then the lower ones. The latter still felt off, out of place. Because a vampire's fangs were so sensitive, it felt extremely unusual for Barmond to gain yet another sensitive spot in his mouth. But not... disagreeable.

He caught Yoven staring in the corner of the mirror. Yoven, that had stopped doing the bed to look at Barmond examining himself, looked back down hurriedly, stroking the sheets.

Barmond looked away as well, fleeing the possibility that their eyes might meet again.

He did not comment, but he did put the mirror away, before standing up. There was something he had to say to Yoven, but he did not know how to say it.

"Did you sleep well?" asked Yoven, for the third time this evening.

"I did," said Barmond.

He had slept like a stone, really. Dreamless, motionless, undisturbed. He had no recollection of the day other than the sensation of the sun somewhere above him, crushing him even through the layers of earth and stone over their room. He knew, better than anyone else, that it was not true sleep, because true sleep was nothing like death.

Or at least from what he remembered about it.

"Do you have any plans for tonight?" asked Yoven.

Barmond turned around to face him - that was a normal, riskless question, he could face his retainer head-on when answering it.

"Yes," he said. "I have yet to give my report to Ranphoros - I must be the last one doing that - and then I will be scouting the streets until morning, probably."

"Why so?"

"I've got to figure out places I could feed," said Barmond. "This is the sort of things that every vampire must do regularly."

Not that this was a lie, rather it was a partial truth. He did have some idea where he could feed since he had used those places in the past when he had still been undercover, but there was the fact that he was uneasy at the idea of being alone in the nest. He simply was not the most social creature there was and, besides... he rather liked the night.

"If you are hungry, I can give you some of my blood," said Yoven. There was a touch of hope in his voice. "That would be more practical."

"Yoven, you are still too weak for that."

"I feel better."

"I would rather you keep your strength to recover faster."

Yoven opened his mouth, then closed it again, before his eyes went off to look at a spot to the side of Barmond. And Barmond did not comment.

There was a knock at the door.

"Well then," said Barmond. "That must be for me. I better get going."

Barmond smoothened his clothes to get rid of some wrinkles - and maybe some of his nervousness - before he moved to the door. Suddenly, Yoven reached out for him as he passed near but his finger only stroked the back of his hand. His living heat still left a searing trace on it, even as Barmond pretended that he had not noticed the attempt.

Barmond recognised the one that was waiting for him outside - last he had met her, she was picking up Maggie the ride back from Lamare. Rosa was in her human form. Strikingly, for a succubus, she was clad in a sombre black robe that was buttoned up all the way to her chin and rigid enough that she had to stand straight with her head slightly raised. It gave her a severe and authoritative look.

"Good evening, Rotberg," she said.

"Good evening," said Barmond.

He closed the door behind him but she did not budge from her spot. She had more to say before bringing him to Ranphoros, apparently.

"We have only interacted in passing up to this point, haven't we?" she said. She spoke with poise and am eloquence that felt a bit forced, a bit cold, considering that Barmond had heard her speak in a more relaxed manner before. "I suppose that it is time that we had a proper introduction. My name is Rosa Mullcalice, I am the matron of the nest of Gardel. I'm also the aunt of Maggel and the sister of Ranphoros."

The matron. Barmond knew enough about succubus to know that this was the leader among the succubus, the one that took decisions when it came to the inner workings of a nest. And while Ranphoros was probably the leader when it came to outside affairs, Rosa had just told him that she held a considerable amount of power over the group of creatures in the nest with the ability to influence other's feelings - in other words, not someone that Barmond wanted to anger.

"I am pleased to make your acquaintance," Barmond said. "Do I also have to tell you my name, since you already know it?"

"No, you do not need to," Rosa said. "I know more about you than you might think already, there is no need to waste any time. Let us walk together."

There was something she wanted to discuss with him, Barmond could tell - it was not as if she was making a great secret out of it either. He could only nod in agreement and hope that it was good news for him. She did not wait long before she spoke again.

"You've met my niece Maggel."

"I've had the pleasure."

"I beg to differ. You have not had the pleasure of knowing her, if I dare say... not knowing in the biblical sense, that is. Which is a good thing, I appreciate your discretion."

Barmond, a little confused by where she was leading the conversation, nodded wordlessly.

"It goes without saying that you are the last person we would allow her to sleep with. In fact, should you do so, there will be consequences."

"Ranphoros has already made that quite clear."

"Well let me make it clearer." Rosa stopped and turned to fully face Barmond. "You are not to touch her. Not with your teeth or your dick. She will keep insisting that you do, I am sure, she is quite stubborn, so I am counting on you to restrain yourself."

"All right."

"Hmm. You must be wondering why we insist this much."

"I... I am sort of curious, to be honest." Barmond rubbed the side of his neck. "I'm also wondering if there is a reason she is this adamant about... well, me."

"That question will be answered very soon. I simply want to define a few... essential points before that. Because they must be upheld. As a principle. An explanation is secondary."

She wanted to scare him. That was why she had dressed up in that way, that was why she was the one bringing him to Ranphoros. She was testing his defences and Barmond was already tired of the mind games.

"Understood," he said. "I'll be careful not to fall for her and her powers."

"You've done well for yourself so far, I'll admit."

"Thank you."

"There is another thing that I want to say before I bring you to Ranphoros."

"What is it?"

"I'll let my brother handle you. After all, it is clear that he has many reasons to make an exception to the rule, one of which being to appease Hugo Rocher, his old friend. After all, one does not keep someone as influential and powerful as Hugo at one's service without a few sacrifices. Really, I believe that this was the deciding factor."

Barmond gritted his teeth. He liked to believe that he was viewed by Ranphoros as a little more than a plaything for his second in command. Maybe she was the only one that believed that. Surely his part in the last mission they had been given had to matter.

But he did not answer that.

"However," she added, "that will not stop me from making my position towards you very clear. I do not approve of you. I do not approve of you being anywhere near Maggel, or that even you entertaining the idea that you might be. And I will be keeping an eye on you if you ever approach another of the ladies I am watching over. Understood?"

"You got to understand that I'm not interested--"

"Understood?"

There was a small silence in the conversation, a tense silence.

"Understood," Barmond said.

"Well. That is what I wanted to tell you. From there on, Ranphoros should be the one to contact should you need anything. And I'll be watching you."

"Understood."

Barmond was annoyed at her. Who did she think she was? Acting as if he was some dangerous, uncontrollable creature of bloodlust and destruction? He could control himself. He was not like those other young vampires that went into a frenzy. He was nothing like vampires like Aurora.

Even if he had some of her blood in him, now. But she did not know that and she did not have to know. Besides, it wouldn't change him. Or, rather, it wouldn't change him any more than physically.

"Is there anything you wished to tell me?" he asked.

"Not for now," she answered. "Ranphoros and Hugo are waiting for you."

That second name was like a punch to the guts.

The last time Barmond had seen Hugo, it had been in his bed, naked, after they had slept together. No amount of walks in the night could get him used to the fact that things were slightly different between them now - different and daunting.

What was Hugo to him now?

It was hard to tell. On one hand, they fucked, or at least they had, and neither Barmond nor Hugo seemed interested in stopping that (even if it was a little for one to admit that than the others.) But on the other hand. Rosa had just reminded him oh-so-kindly that, in everyone's eyes, Barmond had been given to Hugo because Hugo had wanted him. And that begged the question.

Did Hugo really see him as nothing but a pretty face?

"Here we are," she said.

She let him in through the painted doors of Ranphoros' audience room. There was Ranphoros, sitting on the bed, in his incubus form, clad in black, his head turned away from those that entered, and Hugo in a seat, looking bored. There were also two people in the bed, a man and a woman, laying under the covers, and Ranphoros was playing with the hazelnut strands of the woman over the sheets.

Hugo was the first to react, standing up in a hurry. That got Ranphoros out of his trance and he looked at the door as well, seemingly startled.

"Already," he said, a little surprised.

He stood up, and that seemed to be the moment where the people in the bed reacted as well. They grabbed a bathrobe each, awkwardly slipping into it without trying to be seen by the newcomers, and slipped out of the room after having picked up their clothes from the floor. While that was happening. Barmond slowly moved towards the fire, grateful that fire was supposed to be hypnotic, giving him an excuse not to look at Hugo in the eye.

The humans went through the side door.

"I will be leaving you to it," said Rosa.

"You don't wish to hear what Barmond has to say?" Ranphoros asked.

"I have other things to do, tonight. Among other things, make sure that Maggie does not have enough sheets to escape through her window again."

Ranphoros blew through his nose, and it was hard to say it was a repressed chuckle or a sigh.

"That is not funny," Rosa said.

"I did not laugh."

"You'll be handling yourself just fine without me."

With that, she left, and Barmond was alone with Ranphoros and Hugo.