The next day was slow. She had never not worked this much, and it was making her nervous. She discovered that she got the most thorough explanation out of everyone else. Two of the people who came with her were scared out of their mind that they were going to die right after they were called for a vampire to feed on them. Niu calmed them down, earning an expression of relief from the vampire sent to collect one of them. That vampire was tall and pale, with dark hair. He also looked younger than he was, but his clothes and tone signified he wasn’t really all that high up in the hierarchy. He said his name was Sergius, but added ‘for the moment’ at the end of his introduction.

As soon as the sun set, Aulus returned. Niu sat down as he talked her through the process. He was going to feed off her neck, and it was important for her not to move too much because the fangs were sharp. Niu wasn’t a stranger to pain, but she was a stranger to the draining feeling that accompanied feeding. She understood why they didn’t do any other work besides that.

When Aulus retracted his fangs, he put pressure on the wound and wrapped a bandage around it. He then gave her some food and water. He worked methodically.

“You have some blood there.” Niu pointed on Aulus’s face as she began eating. He reached over and then wiped his mouth.

"You're taking this well."

“You explained it well. It’s food for you. Don’t we humans eat animals? Drink milk? It’s the same.” Niu stabbed a piece of meat with her knife.

Aulus’s face bore a strange smile. He cleared his throat and then got up. “Well, I’ll leave you to rest.”

“Well, this is a nice turnout.” Crispus was helping an old man up the stairs. The man seemed to be steady on his feet, but his wheezing showed he was easily tired. He was small, and his skin had spots all over it, the biggest of which were on his bald head. His face looked as if someone had grabbed it and pulled down, his skin sagging past his chin. His hands were wrinkled and looked like the dry branches of an old tree.

He was gripping a withered cane. His hands weren’t shaking. “I don’t particularly care about the turnout. I just want to sit down already. This whole show is tiring.”

"Yes, sir." Crispus nodded and hurried, lifting the man a little more. He didn't want to lift him more than that because then he might as well carry him up. And they were trying to make him look old and tired not at death's door. The humans thought the Emperor was eighty years old. In reality, the vampire was sired by one of the very first vampires, the ones who got awakened instead of sired. This man was so old he could tell you how civilization began, and what type of hand he had in helping it.

They somehow got to the top box before the match began and the Emperor was taken to his chair. He plopped down on it like he was a sack someone threw in a storage closet and immediately picked up his goblet. He shoved Crispus with it.

Crispus had his back turned but didn't sway from the Emperor's shove. Instead, he turned around and poured a red liquid one could assume was wine but was actually blood mixed with wine to mask the smell.

The Emperor took a deep drink, drinking half of the contents in one gulp, and then put it down with a sigh.

“I don’t really like cutting down on my food like this.”

"It is necessary if you want to wither slowly." Crispus sat down next to him. "You have the appearance of a dying man down pact, but no one would believe you're dying if you can run up the stairs."

The Emperor stared at the soon to be full gladiator ring for a moment. "Well, I do hate acting. How did the slave buying go?"

“We have five new slaves. And they all have people assigned to them.” Crispus was watching the crowd instead of watching the gladiators entering. He found these events boring. Humans couldn't do the type of destruction that would interest him.

“Good. Now let’s watch people fight each other to death.” The Emperor grinned. Crispus mimicked him and then sat back, only paying attention to the fight so that he could react properly. Otherwise, he was entrenched in thought and keeping tabs on how much blood the Emperor drank.