By the time Dom woke up the next morning, he felt as if a tree had fallen on his back and, as if that weren't bad enough, a particularly mean-spirited squirrel had started jumping on the trunk, driving him further into the hard ground.

Of course, this was only a fleeting sensation—just as he was starting to open his eyes. Probably, despite not feeling any pain the night before when that mountain of junk collapsed on top of him, the aftermath of that little adventure was beginning to catch up with him.

Dom stretched, trying to relax and ignore any lingering discomfort. But the moment he sat up on the cot and looked ahead, he got such a fright that he nearly fell out of bed.

"What are you doing here?" Dom snapped, his tone indignant, pulling the blankets up to his shoulders as if it were the height of indecency to be caught in his underwear.

"I just came to let you know it's morning," Raffaele replied with complete nonchalance, as if it were the most natural thing in the world to stand by a guest's bed at the crack of dawn, staring at them while waiting for them to wake up. "If we want to be of any help to the community, it's important that we get moving as soon as possible."

"Why didn't you knock before coming in?"

"I did."

An awkward silence followed, clearly caused by Dom's inability to verify this claim.

"I didn't hear you."

"Perhaps that's because you were fast asleep. It happens to me too—I find this place so cozy that I just pass out like a rock!"

"I... don't consider myself a heavy sleeper, but if you say so..."

The other explanation was that Raffaele was lying and had somehow managed to sneak into the room without making a sound—an impressive feat, considering how sturdy the door was and the unmistakable creak of its hinges.

"So, will you come?" Raffaele prompted with a bright smile, oblivious to Dom's suspicions. "I've already prepared breakfast. Guess what!"

"More vegetable broth?"

"And some fruit! But how did you know?" Before Dom could answer, he continued, "Oh, it doesn't matter. See? We're already forming a great team to solve this mystery. We haven't even discussed the important stuff yet, and you're already doing an excellent job as an investigator."

"I don't think I deserve much credit, given the circumstances. In any case, setting that aside, I'll get up now."

"Perfect."

And it was perfect—except that Raffaele didn't move an inch from where he was standing, completely ignoring (or perhaps failing to notice) the subtle hint Dom had given him to leave and give him some privacy.

It seemed there was no other option but to be more direct.

"Do you mind? I'd like to get dressed."

"Not at all. Go ahead—I'm in no rush."

Once again, Raffaele stayed put, watching him intently. Two could play at that game, though. Fortunately, after a few tense seconds, Raffaele finally picked up on the atmosphere and realized what was expected of him.

"Ah, of course! You want me to leave. I'll wait for you downstairs in the dining room." With that, the master of the castle—who had turned slightly red upon realizing his blunder—finally turned and headed for the door. "You'll have to excuse me. It's been so long since I've had overnight guests that I've forgotten my manners."

Dom might have told him it was no big deal and that it was already forgotten. After all, by this point, he was starting to understand Raffaele's quirks and was fairly certain that any odd behavior stemmed more from a natural social ineptitude than from a desire to cause discomfort. But Raffaele was already gone.

What had just happened?

The night before, when his host caught him rummaging through the cupboards at an ungodly hour, Dom hadn't been wearing his pants either. He had to admit, though—it was a smart move. He had thought it would be better if, when caught red-handed, Raffaele could see he was wearing his sleepwear. That way, his excuse that he had just gotten up to fetch a glass of water would sound more believable.

No admitting that it was actually a premeditated plan to snoop around the castle.

Of course, with the whole cupboard-collapse incident, that excuse had been discarded before he even got the chance to use it. But the point was—why hadn't Raffaele seemed so flustered then? Was it because he had been too focused on digging him out before more junk buried him?

Or maybe it was the intimacy of the bedroom itself. After all, it wasn't the same thing to see someone in their underwear during an emergency in a random hallway as it was to find them like that in a bed just a few steps from your own room.

Then again, if Raffaele was so easily flustered... why did he come in without hesitation in the first place?

Dom didn't understand any of it, and for the sake of his sanity, he decided not to dwell on it. He quickly washed up and got dressed, eager to head down to the dining room before a certain someone decided to come looking for him again.

Ten minutes later, the two sole inhabitants of the fortress were seated across from each other at the dining table, once again sharing a meal.

"We should come up with a plan for how we're going to handle this malicious vampire problem," Raffaele said, before Dom could even take a bite of his apple. "I think it would be best to start by speaking with the witnesses."

"I already talked to Renzo," Dom replied, trying not to sound too disinterested in the idea of repeating the experience. "The last kid who supposedly had a run-in with... whatever it was. And no, I didn't learn anything useful. Quite the opposite."

"And the other children?"

"They ran off before I could ask them anything. I think they have a habit of doing that whenever an adult gets too close."

"Well, we'll have to talk to all of them. The more testimonies, the better! It would be foolish to act on a single version of events."

"Yeah, you're absolutely right," Dom said, as if he hadn't already dashed off to find Raffaele based on one child's account. "The more, the better."

This was going to be a hassle—he could already tell.

"It's also crucial to track down the first child who witnessed the vampire act. That's where everything must have started."

"Assuming it even targeted children..."

"You think it went after adults too? Maybe we should broaden our search—go door to door and question every neighbor in case they've seen or heard anything unusual."

"N-no, that's not what I meant!" Dom nearly dropped his apple, horrified at the thought that dealing with one lying kid might escalate into interrogating a dozen—or worse, the entire village. "It's just... from what I've seen, these people would totally make up some wild story about who saw what first, just to outdo each other."

"You think so? Kids can be a bit imaginative, especially if you encourage them with stories. But what about the adults?"

"Okay, maybe the adults are more reliable... But you have to admit, the whole thing sounds insane—no matter who it's coming from."

"Wait... you don't believe in vampires?"

The look Raffaele gave him was strange given the context they were in. Far from showing curiosity at such skepticism or disappointment at Dom's lack of conviction, his eyes revealed a glimmer of hope. As if, instead of nearly confessing that he didn't believe in creatures of the night, Dom had offered him the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow.

"What I don't believe in is vampires attacking children," Dom said slowly, thinking it unwise to openly admit his doubts in front of someone so willing to help him. "Think about it—if I were a vampire, the last thing I would do is move to a remote village in the middle of the mountains where everyone knows each other and start scaring children left and right. They'd catch me immediately! No, if I needed to feed and wanted to stay unnoticed, I'd settle in a big city like Milan or Rome. There, I'd have more victims to choose from and more places to hide if people started getting suspicious."

Maybe he had gone too far, imagining such a macabre scenario. But when Dom saw Raffaele's smile, he knew that, somehow, he had said exactly the right thing.

"Exactly! That's exactly what I think! You'd expect a vampire, after centuries of existence, to be too intelligent to make such a basic mistake and get caught."

"Right, it would be suspicious if they weren't being more cunning—if it were really a vampire."

"And even if, for some reason, one of them couldn't stay in a big city, they would never risk going after children! That would be madness."

"Of course, because everyone knows vampires are bloodthirsty but draw the line at kids," Dom quipped, no longer sure what exactly he was trying to argue.

"We should go talk to Count Sforza," Raffaele declared out of nowhere.

"Wait, what?"

"He's the one offering the reward for capturing the vampire, isn't he? So, it stands to reason that he'll have more information than anyone else—otherwise, why would he offer such a large sum to solve this?"

"Yeah, but..."

But didn't it seem like a bad idea to show up at a count's residence? Even though Dom had taken care to keep a low profile during his travels and was confident no one for miles around would confront him about his past crimes, the idea of stepping into a feudal lord's home still made him uneasy.

He hadn't been so cautious with Raffaele because, in the end, the man was just another outsider with no real power in the region. It was a whole other thing to face Sforza in his manor, surrounded by servants, his own private army, and—knowing how the upper classes worked—probably a few shadowy schemes.

Because Dom knew all too well that the aristocracy was always plotting something.

"This will be the best way to proceed," Raffaele continued gently, trying to convince him. "If His Lordship doesn't have any useful information, at the very least he'll be able to point us to someone who does."

"That might be true, but I'm not so sure it'll be easy to get an audience with him," Dom murmured, his appetite quickly fading as Raffaele, in contrast, continued eating his breakfast without a care in the world. "Counts tend to be busy people."

"Oh, that won't be a problem. As soon as the count knows that it's me requesting the visit, he'll accept immediately."

"Of course, he will."

Aristocrats were like crows circling the same carcass, Dom thought. They always ended up flocking together.

"I made a generous donation when I moved here, and he was kind enough to invite me to lunch one day," Raffaele explained cheerfully, as if recounting the start of a beautiful friendship. "Unfortunately, the sun was particularly harsh that day, and I wasn't feeling well, so I couldn't attend. And afterward, well, we were both busy... Anyway, I'm sure he'll talk to us."

"Lucky us, then," Dom said sarcastically—though Raffaele didn't seem to catch the tone. "If I'd gone alone, they probably would've slammed the door in my face."

And he would've been thrilled if that happened!

"So, we have a plan! We'll request an audience with His Lordship... and while we wait, we'll go talk to all the children and adults in the village."

"I thought we had ruled out that part," Dom sighed, feeling his soul sink to his feet. "Do we really need to talk to everyone?"

"Don't worry—it won't take that long. How many people live in San Cipriano? About three hundred?" And, as if to reinforce his confidence, Raffaele lifted the cross necklace Dom had given him the day before, wearing it proudly around his neck. "With your gift of gab as a merchant, we'll have extracted every useful bit of information in just a couple of days."