Llillard was gone, the maid of the house was gone, and I was the only one left in the great palace.

No, I'm the only vampire.

In the evening, I walked down the corridor alone, barefoot so as not to make any noise.

But there were a lot of footsteps in my ears, hurried, careful footsteps, as if they didn't want me to hear them, but they deliberately wanted me to hear them, and they kept ringing outside the window.

Pushing open the wooden door at the end of the hallway, "Crunch-" The wooden door hadn't been opened in a long time, and it let out a terrible cry.

Vivien's diary says that there is the answer I want in this door.

I don't know what the answer is, but I believe what Vivien says.

The furniture in the room was clean, but the traces of time could still be seen, and in front of the huge floor-to-ceiling windows was a dilapidated sofa, and on the low table next to the sofa was a vase, and around the vase were scattered many dried petals, which did not look like roses.

The light in the room was dim, but I didn't dare to open the curtains, the people outside hadn't left yet, and I didn't want to get into unnecessary trouble.

Luckily, vampires don't have very high requirements for light, and they can see clearly even in dark environments.

Unconscious, I slowly walked over to the broken couch, curled myself up inside, and stroked the black rose pattern on the couch.

Lying on the couch, I stared with my eyes open at the opposite wall, the place that was slightly different from the surrounding wall, where it ...... It seems to be a ...... that was put there before.

I squinted and thought, trying to break through the prison of memory on my own.

A rectangular thing, could it be a portrait?

I got up and looked at the room, the familiar furnishings, but so unfamiliar, there seemed to be something in the second compartment on the third level of the bookshelf.

I walked over and rummaged through the books.

"Smack!" as I pulled out the fifth book, a bronze medallion fell to the ground, circled around my feet a few times, and finally lay face up at my feet.

Is that...... I looked at the statue on the ground in disbelief, and there was a small picture of two women in the picture, me and ...... Who?

Lillard said that before I fell asleep, my only friend was Shaman, so could the bewitching woman standing next to me be Shaman?

Stoop down and pick up the medallion, a small bronze medallion, with a photo of two women on the front and a row of words on the reverse that I would rather not recognize: Hatherine and Sharman will be good friends forever!

Holding this badge tightly, I gritted my teeth and closed my eyes, this is Sharman, the only good friend of mine who now wants me to die - Countess Sharman?

I don't know why I, who seemed so innocent back then, would make friends with a bewitching woman like Shaman, and I was the only friend, and I don't know when I became less friendly with Shaman.

But according to Lillard, she helped me draw a portrait before the wedding, and I was smiling happily in the portrait, and I guess we should have been good friends at that time.

Putting the bronze medallion on the shelf, I subconsciously looked at the book in my hand, and when I turned the page, I frowned.

This is a diary, with delicate fonts, and the feelings of a little girl revealed between the lines, which ...... It must have been written by a woman.