How could he have fallen so low?
After so many years surviving on his own, finding clever ways to entangle others into willingly handing over their possessions, the tables had finally turned against him. Now, Dom had been swindled.

There was no mortal or vampiric threat involved, and surely no reward either. Because who would have been the fool to pay Carlo for spinning such lies? It could only have been someone wealthy — a person of modest means wouldn't waste their livelihood on such nonsense.

And who were the suspects? Well, mainly one: Count Sforza.
Although Dom had no idea what motives the Count might have for orchestrating such a scam, he was practically the only one with enough wealth and power to add a child to his ranks, manipulating him like a puppet.
If Sforza had truly been behind it all, it only made sense to assume he had never intended to offer any reward. The promised bounty, like the tale of the child-eating vampire, had just been another ruse to lure in the gullible.

And fallen for it, they certainly had!

The other option — or rather, the other suspect — could have been Raffaele... but only could, in the most conditional sense, because Dom dismissed the idea as soon as it crossed his mind.
Raffaele had the means to pull off such a deceitful trick, but not the malice. He had been the first to offer help in the cause, not for money or fame, but out of a genuine desire to protect the helpless. So, how could he be guilty of anything?
He simply couldn't.
Raffaele was too good — nothing like the rest of the townsfolk Dom had met. While not everyone was inclined to deceive the unwary, no one else possessed Raffaele's innocence and graciousness. Not to mention how attractive he always looked...
Though, of course, that last point wasn't exactly relevant.

"Tea?" Raffaele suddenly offered, approaching with a teapot in hand, successfully pulling Dom out of his thoughts.

Right — they had returned to Raffaele's fortress shortly after the mass ended, having no further reason to continue their investigation around town.
"Yes, please," Dom said, holding out his cup for easier pouring, hoping Raffaele hadn't noticed how nervous he had just become for no apparent reason.

Truly, he needed to keep those intrusive thoughts in check. Not erase them — after all, who in their right mind would want to? — but at least save them for another time. Preferably one when Raffaele wasn't standing right in front of him, and Dom wouldn't be at risk of doing something inappropriate.

"How are we supposed to proceed now?" Raffaele asked, sitting back down in his armchair with his own cup of tea. "Because we can guess who's behind it, can't we?"

"I think it's fairly obvious," Dom confirmed, coughing a little just to shake off his lingering discomfort. Was he blushing? He hoped not.
"It had to be Sforza. But it's not like we can just show up at his villa and confront him, right?"

"No, I figured that wouldn't be the best option. No one likes to be confronted over their past mistakes, and even less so when they're the Lord of these lands."

"Very generous of you to call it 'past mistakes' instead of a series of intentional, ongoing incidents."

"Besides," Raffaele continued without missing a beat, "what would change if we confronted him?"

"That one's easy: I'd end up in a dungeon, and you... Well, let's just say you'd miss out on that delicious dinner the Count's been promising you for weeks."

Sforza wouldn't dare touch Raffaele — it would have caused a scandal even to reproach someone who was more or less his equal in wealth and influence.
Dom, however, could be crushed without a second thought if he dared act recklessly.

"No, we definitely can't allow you to end up imprisoned."

"And even if we did, it wouldn't really help alert people to the scam, because truthfully, no one ever really believed it... except for a few isolated exceptions. The children were never in any danger. So, why not just let it die out?"

"I agree. But what about that story the innkeeper and his friend told you?"

"Ah..."
Dom had almost forgotten about that.
He had summarized it for Raffaele on their way back from church, but perhaps because he was still angry over being fed so many lies, he had dismissed that piece of the puzzle as useless.

And really, wasn't it?

"It could've just been a drunk trying to mug someone," Dom said, refusing to think otherwise.
"Or someone perfectly sober who still had some shady intentions."

"Was anything stolen from that neighbor?"

"I don't think so. Marzio didn't mention anything like that."

"And if you add the neck marks...?"

"Coincidence, nothing more. Maybe the guy took a bad fall and scraped himself, or... maybe the attacker, hired by Sforza, just pricked him while he was unconscious, to make it seem vampiric."

Raffaele stayed silent for a moment, digesting that.

"Isn't it a little strange," he eventually said, "that this hypothetical vampire would suddenly shift from targeting children to adults overnight?"

"It is, but... okay, listen to me for a second — what if it's not that strange?" Dom reasoned.
"The Count spent months trying to draw in the children with these ridiculous supernatural stories, and no adult ever took them seriously... until we showed up. Then maybe Sforza saw it as the right moment to escalate the ruse and expand the target to adults too."

From what Dom knew of the lord of these lands, he was a pragmatic, stingy man:
Maybe it had started with a small lie, which he didn't bother to continue until he was sure there was someone gullible enough to believe it.

"It's pretty curious," Raffaele said thoughtfully, "that in just the few days we've been investigating, His Lordship managed to recruit someone good enough to scare the townsfolk. Either they're extremely gullible — which we've established they're not — or this person working for the Count is really good at what they do."

"You think Sforza hired a real vampire?"

"No," Raffaele said after a moment's hesitation, quickly regaining his composure.
"If he had ever met a real vampire, he would've recruited them at the very start of this whole scheme, not waited until now."

"Right."

Dom's skepticism was so obvious that Raffaele couldn't help but smile.

"You really don't believe in vampires," Raffaele noted, more as a statement than a question.
"I used to think you were keeping a neutral stance, but now I see you're just skeptical about everything supernatural."

"It's just... it all sounds ridiculous, doesn't it?" Dom looked visibly uncomfortable. Until now, he had kept his opinions to himself, not wanting to crush Raffaele's clear belief. But now that they were close enough to talk about such things, what was the point of hiding anymore?
"I don't know if it's just that I've lived too ordinary a life, but I've never seen anything I'd call supernatural. No black magic, no witches — and definitely no vampires!"

"Funny, the way you behave whenever these topics come up, I would never have guessed," Raffaele said with clear irony.
"Have you never even considered the possibility you might be wrong?"

"Wrong? Me? That's practically offensive," Dom said, feigning indignation.
"I have an excellent eye for detail; even when I'm quiet, I'm memorizing everything."

"Oh, really? And what details have you observed here, for instance?"

Raffaele had to be teasing him, as a sort of game, for being such a loudmouth. Dom had no doubt about it, judging by the amused expression he still wore. And yet, he couldn't help but take the challenge seriously.

"I have observed..." he began cautiously, taking a moment to glance around the room one last time before focusing back on his host, "that despite living in a large house with every luxury imaginable, you don't seem worried that someone might take advantage of you. Maybe you like to keep your privacy, and that's why you don't have a whole entourage of servants, but it's clear that you don't mind company. You want to be liked and you act kindly toward everyone, but I don't think it's a matter of ego."

"Isn't it?" Raffaele asked.

"If it were, you'd make a bigger show out of it than you already do without even realizing. Nothing wrong with that, of course, just an observation: you took the attacks on the children seriously and helped me without asking for anything in return. So, even though I've only known you for a short time, I'd say you're..." —his favorite person in the whole village? Yeah, that would be accurate, though one could argue he hadn't taken the time to know everyone individually— "pretty decent."

"You don't think I could be a vampire, then?"

"Oh, please! You're the last person in this damn village who could be such a thing— even I'd have better chances!"

"You've never seen me consume the same diet as the rest of mortals," Raffaele pondered.

"Yeah, well, I also haven't seen you drink blood."

"And in theory, you could say that plants have their own kind of blood. Though it wouldn't be as nutritious for a creature of the night."

"Oh great, are we going to start debating the pros and cons of consuming human blood now?"

"You've never tried to bar me from entering any room..."

"Why would I? This is your house; I have no right to do so." Nor would he want to, honestly, but since they were talking about it, two could play at the suspicion game. "If you were a vampire, the cross I gave you would bother you."

"This one?" Raffaele still wore it around his neck, as he now showed him: had he been wearing it daily since Dom gifted it to him? "No, not at all. The cross existed long before it was associated with Christianity, why would it bother me?"

"You were able to enter the church without any trouble, like it was any other place."

"And isn't it just that? Again, Christian superstitions: a parish built by humans, like any other dwelling in the village."

"But there's holy water."

"Blessed by a priest who's also mortal."

Was it possible Raffaele had a counterargument for everything? And what if, for every clue Dom dismissed, there was another pointing in the opposite direction?

Dom barely had time to dwell on this when, after setting his teacup aside, Raffaele stood up. And in just three steps, he was standing right in front of Dom.

This sudden movement might have been intimidating if it had been anyone else. But Dom trusted so much in Raffaele's intrinsic goodness that, even with him standing over him now, his brain didn't register even the slightest sign of danger.

"Tell me," Raffaele leaned down enough to rest his hands on the armrests of Dom's chair, allowing him to look him straight in the eyes, "do you truly not see anything unusual about me?"

For a second, Dom considered blurting out the first thing that came to mind— some sharp comment that would double as a joke to break the tension. But Raffaele seemed serious, like he was genuinely looking for something— anything—that would set him apart from the other villagers. So Dom decided he owed him at least a carefully thought-out response.

Now, if Dom hadn't been so absorbed by having Raffaele's face so close, he might have lowered his gaze just a little and noticed that Raffaele was not reflected in the remaining tea in his cup. As if, just like what would happen with a mirror, the liquid surface refused to acknowledge his presence.

But Dom didn't notice, and after a full minute of thinking about what to say, he finally answered:

"You have very beautiful eyes."

That effectively shattered the tense atmosphere, and after a moment of surprise, Raffaele laughed heartily.

"It's not exactly something new or particularly relevant," Dom continued, secretly a bit disappointed that Raffaele had chosen that moment to step away, "I just realized I hadn't told you before."

And for whatever reason, it felt important to say it.

Raffaele hadn't remained unaffected by the compliment—on the contrary, for a moment he had blushed. And although he said nothing at first, he was very close to doing so. It wasn't until he was finally sitting back in his own armchair that he recovered his speech:

"I've been thinking... why don't you stay and live here?"

"Aren't I already doing that?"

"No, I mean something more permanent," Raffaele, who had seemed so confident until then, now appeared overtaken by shyness. "I know we concluded it's not worth investigating any further, and the arrangement was for you to stay here only until that matter was resolved, but... I'd like you to stay anyway."

"Wait, are you offering me a permanent home? No strings attached?"

Dom could hardly believe it. Was it even right to accept something like this? He wanted to accept, but he wasn't sure if it would really be fair to Raffaele.

"No strings attached," Raffaele confirmed. "I've already gotten used to having you here as a guest. Of course, you're not my prisoner and you could leave anytime you wanted. I know I can be a bit invasive without realizing it, which is why I also think it's a good thing this castle is so big: if you ever get tired of me, with a little planning about which hallways to frequent, you could probably avoid me for weeks on end."

"As if I would ever want to avoid you," Dom laughed —where had Raffaele gotten that idea?— "Look, I'll stay, but I'm not promising it'll be permanent. I need to think it over."

"Of course, take all the time you need," Raffaele rushed to say, visibly happy; even if Dom hadn't fully agreed yet, it felt like he had. "There's no hurry."

"But I won't stay just as a guest. I'll help with the household chores."

"Don't bother, I can manage on my own. I have until now."

"Can you guarantee that if I open another random cabinet I won't be crushed by a pile of stuff? And if I walk out into the gardens, that I won't trip into a hole because of all the overgrowth?" Seeing Raffaele hesitate, Dom smiled and answered for him. "No, right? In that case, I insist. Give me a roof and food if you want, but I'll take care of the rest."