Chapter 171: Chapter 171: Date
Rose glanced between Lucian and Lemora confused as she didn’t know who Lemora was.
Lemora stopped in front of Lucian and her smile widened.
"Did you miss me?"
Lucian’s expression didn’t change.
His crimson eyes met her violet ones.
The courtyard watched.
Clara’s eyes narrowed. She studied the dark-haired girl standing in front of Lucian, the casual closeness that suggested a history Clara hadn’t been told about. Something about the girl’s scent tickled Clara’s Moon Vampire senses.
She didn’t recognize her.
Rose leaned toward Clara, keeping her voice low. "Who is she?"
Clara’s eyes stayed on Lucian. "I don’t know."
Lucian said nothing. His crimson eyes were fixed on Lemora with a cold expression.
Lemora opened her mouth to speak again — but before she could form a single word, Rose stepped forward.
"Hi. I’m Rose Chevalier. And you are?"
Lemora’s eyes shifted to Rose. The name registered immediately — Chevalier. One of the five notable French families.
"Lemora. Lemora Du Maurier. I’m a new transfer student."
Rose nodded. Her expression was friendly. She had no reason to be hostile — she’d never heard the name Du Maurier before. Afterall, Lucian had never spoken about his past.
Lemora turned back to Lucian. "Did you miss m—"
"What are you doing here?" Lucian asked in a cold voice.
Lemora’s smile widened. She tilted her head, letting her dark hair fall over one shoulder.
"I simply came to spend my time here at the best academy on Earth right now. So I entered as a transfer student." She batted her eyelashes. "Is that a problem?"
Lucian’s jaw tightened.
"Do you know I could kill you right now?"
Students nearby who caught the edge of his voice went quiet. A few took a step back.
Lemora didn’t flinch. Instead, she walked closer to Lucian.
Clara moved.
She stepped between them — her body blocking Lemora’s path to Lucian. Her silver eyes were cold. Her voice was even colder.
"Step back. Or I will be the one to end you instead of him."
The temperature around Clara dropped. Frost crystals formed on the cobblestones beneath her feet. The air between the two women thickened with tension that made nearby students hold their breath.
Lemora stopped. She looked at Clara. A vampire. Another vampire.
Her nostrils flared slightly as she caught Clara’s scent.
Then she backed off playfully. Hands raised with smile still plastered across her face.
"Wow, wow, wow. So much killing intent." She laughed. "It’s not as if you guys have what it takes to kill me, even with that lovely form of my dear Lucian."
She turned to Clara and Rose. Her gaze swept over both of them with superiority.
"Don’t worry, ladies. You’re just replacements for me in Lucian’s heart." Her violet eyes sparkled. "After all, I was his first. And very soon, I will be his last."
She turned on her heel.
Rose turned to Lucian. Her arms crossed with a pout on her face.
"Care to explain?"
Lucian exhaled through his nose as he sighed. "Don’t worry. She’s just a part of my forgotten past. Nothing more."
"Is she a vampire?" Clara asked.
Lucian didn’t hesitate. "Yeah. A dangerous one."
Clara’s face twisted with disgust.
"No wonder she has that scent. I hate her already."
Rose looked between them, still slightly lost. "What scent? She smelled fine to me."
Clara shook her head. "You don’t have vampire senses."
Lucian smiled.
He clapped his hands together. "Right. Why don’t we go on that date tonight? You girls can pick the location."
Rose’s pout vanished instantly. Her eyes lit up. "Really? Tonight?"
"Tonight."
Clara’s disgust melted into a smirk. "Fine. But I’m choosing the restaurant."
Evening arrived quickly.
The three of them walked into Havenford. Clara chose a restaurant — a small, upscale steakhouse called The Silver Cut that she’d been eyeing for weeks but hadn’t visited because Lucian had been training with Allistar all month.
They sat in a corner booth.
All three ordered rare ribeye. For Lucian and Clara, it was the only food that still tasted right. For Rose, it was simply preference. She’d developed a taste for rare steak during her half-zombie period and never lost it.
After dinner, they walked through the town’s market square. The night market was open — stalls selling mana trinkets, street food, clothing, and trinkets. Music played from a street performer’s mana-powered violin somewhere in the crowd.
Rose dragged them into a clothing store.
"Lucian. Try this one." She held up a dark blue shirt.
He put it on. Rose tilted her head, squinted, and shook her head. "No. You look like a banker."
A white shirt. "No. Too plain. You’re not going to a funeral."
A fitted black shirt with silver stitching. Rose stared at it. Then at Clara. Clara examined it with the critical eye of someone who had opinions about fashion and wasn’t afraid to use them.
"No," Clara said. "The stitching is wrong. It bunches at the shoulders."
Rose sighed. "You veto everything."
"Because I’m always right when it comes to fashion."
Lucian stood between them in the third outfit — a simple dark grey shirt that fit his lean frame without being tight — and watched them argue about his appearance with an expression of resigned amusement.
They returned to the house in the evening — a new house they’d rented for the second year. It was larger than their old apartment — three bedrooms, a living room, a kitchen, and a private cultivation room in the basement. The beds were larger. The windows were reinforced with mana glass
Rose and Clara exchanged a glance as they entered.
Rose walked to the living room lights. She dimmed them — one by one — until the room was bathed in soft, low amber.
Clara moved to the curtains. She pulled them closed. The outside world disappeared.
Lucian stood in the center of the room. A smile spread across his face.
"I hope you’re prepared," he said. "Because you won’t be able to go for classes tomorrow."
Clara smirked as she says, "Tell that to Rose. She’s the one with lesser stamina."
Rose pouted as she says, "We’ll see about that."
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