Lisa of Lupu had been accustomed to loneliness for the entirety of her human life. It's what drove her toward tendencies of babbling when she was around other people. It's what gnawed at her gut when she wasn't busying her mind studying or reading or sleeping.

Lisa had known loneliness in every manifestation. Loneliness was her parents' deaths, brought on by illnesses no witch or so-called medical scribe could hope to cure. Loneliness was her sister moving away to marry rich or die—cold, hungry, and alone—trying. Loneliness was traveling alone for weeks in pursuit of something that could help her help the people who could not help themselves.

And yet, the pang of loneliness that always swept through her never grew easier to bear. It was an ache in her stomach, and a hollow feeling in her chest. It was a dark spot in her mind, threatening to engulf her entirely. She worked hard to keep it at bay. But the threat still remained, just on the edge of her waking thoughts.

She often found herself wondering if her host knew of loneliness, and what he did to keep his own at bay. If he had a field of study that he admired enough to pour his heart and soul into it, if he lost himself in books or physical activity or sleep.

It certainly wasn't by talking to her.

Since she'd first entered his castle, afraid yet unwilling to show it, he'd agreed to let her stay and study the scientific knowledge he had to offer her—books and tools and insight beyond her wildest dreams—while he became a ghost to her in his own household.

I've known you two minutes, Lisa remembered him saying when they first met, and you offer for me to walk the earth like an ordinary peasant—while I give you the knowledge of immortals, the true science.

Her insistence for him to travel truly paled in comparison to the gift he bestowed upon her, she knew. But she thought she could give him a gift that she needed as desperately as he must have: A friend. Surely someone to talk to, to share experiences with, would have been worth something to him.

Considering the fact that she had not seen him once in the two weeks since arriving, she wasn't so sure anymore.

I think I might like you. The words, spoken in her hosts' deep, unhurried voice, echoed through her mind. He was willing to give her a chance. It was enough to keep her fighting off the insistent pain of loneliness for as long as she has been. Perhaps he was fighting it off as well, hoping as she hoped.

That morning, Lisa had been studying the process of distilling. In most of the volumes she'd found, there were handwritten notes in the pages. The handwriting was almost never the same, and often in different languages. The notes in the corners of these pages, however, were a language she could understand.

"John of Rupescissa's works in the great library," Lisa read aloud to herself, "for distillation of blood."

The written note would have been confusing for her, had it not already crossed her mind. She'd heard the stories—the rumors that plagued her village like an illness. Her host was immortal, a monster. No earthly weapon could harm him. No illness would ail him. And he fed on blood.

The notion frightened her, certainly, but it fascinated her more. What could the blood of mortals give him that he did not already have? And what could his blood accomplish in return? It seems someone before her had the same thought process as her. She tried not to think too hard on what might have become of them.

"The great library," Lisa muttered to herself. Surely there was such thing in this castle. Aside from being shown a room to sleep in, her host had not given her a tour. It was a long walk through hallways lined with closed doors from the room she slept in to the laboratory she studied in. One of those closed doors could have opened to a great library.

Would searching for the library betray her host's trust? She was sure it was rocky enough as it was. But this was the last work she could find in the study room that she had not yet read. With a sigh she closed the worn book and took a seat at the stool beside her.

After worrying at her lip for a few moments, she took a coin from the pocket of her dress. It was one of the only ones she had to her name. The metal glinted dully as she studied it in the false light of the study. She flipped it from her finger and caught it before it landed. The scored side was held face-up in her palm. That decided her.

She left the study and wandered the halls of the castle. She hoped she'd run into her host before having to venture into any rooms she was most likely not allowed in. Then she could at least ask him to escort her to the proper place. As she wandered the barren halls, though, she knew she would have no such luck. At times she even wondered if her host was even living within the castle, or if he'd left.

It did not take her long to find the room, however. She figured a room one would call a "great library" would be on the main floor, hidden away. Sure enough, Lisa found a set of heavy wooden doors with intricate carvings etched into them. She only hesitated a moment before pushing them open and stepping into the room beyond.

What she found stole the breath from her chest. There were books, hundreds of thousands of them, stretched out before her on wooden shelves. Couches, chairs, and tables lined the room for her to sit and read if she so desired.

"Oh," Lisa breathed. "Incredible."

It did not take her long to find the work she wanted: The books were organized in alphabetical order. How long it took to order the books in such a way, Lisa wasn't sure she wanted to know. She felt a pang in her chest at the thought of her host pouring over all of the tomes in the room, making sure each had a proper home on their shelves. Surely only someone very meticulous—or very bored and lonely—would do such a thing.

The book she pulled from the shelf was bound in dark leather and pleated at the corners with what Lisa knew to be real gold. She stared at it wonderingly for a moment before turning to head from the room and back to her study.

"Find what you were looking for?"

Lisa dropped the book at the sound of the voice behind her.

Dracula raised a disproving brow. "That's a rather delicate book you just threw to the ground," he told her.

She quickly bent to pick it up. "You startled me," was all she could manage to say.

Her host was intimidating in the way that a god would be intimidating. It was no wonder why he struck fear into whomever looked upon him. It was no wonder that his name alone was enough to keep most people far away from him. Dracula was tall and broad-shouldered. His hair hung in thick tendrils around his face. His gold eyes seemed red in the light of the library as he studied Lisa where she stood clutching the book she'd taken without permission to her chest.

"You've decided to study the alchemical arts," said Dracula with a nod to the tome in her arms. "I can assure you it's a fool's hope, turning coal to gold and creating gems to live forever." His deep voice dripped with disapproval, and Lisa felt a hot blush rise to her face.

"His findings on chemical reactions could prove to be worthwhile to medicine," Lisa said. Her blonde hair had fallen into her face, but she was wound too tightly to brush it away. She clutched the book tighter against her instead, and fought the burning in her cheeks.

Dracula seemed unimpressed. "And the philosopher's stone, the gem that can give the carrier the gift of immortality, means little to you?"

The way he said gift gave Lisa the impression that he did not think immortality a gift at all. She couldn't blame him. How long and lonely his life must have been. "It means nothing to me, actually," she said, straightening. "Unless it could show me something worthwhile in the healing of people."

Dracula looked as though he were going to smile at that. In the deepest recesses of her mind, Lisa knew that he would look beautiful with a smile on his face. It was something she tried hard not to dwell on, but it was a thought she could not keep completely out. His eyes tightened at the corners, and his mouth worked. "You've been diligent with your research," he told her. "I suppose I have no reason not to believe you."

How often she'd thought of talking with her host during the weeks she'd been in his castle. She'd planned conversations in her head and acted them out, thinking through the different outcomes. This was never a scenario she'd dreamed up in her head, but the words came naturally to her still. "Trust is something I think you and I would benefit from, sir."

His face was unreadable as he studied her for a few moments. Then, "Call me Vlad," he said finally. "Since I intend to call you Lisa."

Lisa's brow furrowed at that. His manners had certainly not improved since the first time they'd met, but she was glad to use his Christian name. It meant that they no longer need act like strangers. It was a good sign, one that implied trust. Her arms relaxed and she brushed her hair behind her ears. "Vlad," she said.

"Yes?"

Her eyes widened when she realized she'd said his name only to say it. "I—I need to return to my village," she managed, saying the first thing that came to mind. It had been haunting her for the past few days, but she did not want to leave without at least letting him know where she was going and why. "For a little while. There are people in poor health there that need my help."

If she expected a reaction from her host, she did not get it. Dracula blinked, once, slowly. "You know the way back, I assume."

"It will only be for a week or so," Lisa said. "And I—I was wondering if you'd like to accompany me."

That did gain a reaction from him. His eyebrows raised, the most reaction she'd seen from him since their first encounter. "You wish for me to go with you to heal your friends and family, with nothing asked of me in return?"

"I have no friends or family," she heard herself say. "I—am alone. And you have not seen the world as it has changed. Surely you would like to see how far we've come since you've been locked away in here."

His brow furrowed when she said the word alone. "You're looking for a companion," he finally said. "To travel and heal with you. And you think you may find that companion in me."

"Why not?" Lisa said with a shrug. "We've gotten along great, you know, the two times we've spoken. Why not try for an adventure to liven it up?"

He almost looked bemused. "When are we departing?"

Lisa was almost too surprised to reply. "Whenever you'd like," she managed. "Everything I own I'm wearing—oh, except my coat."

Something she said made Dracula furrow his brow. His face was expressionless a moment later as he swept into a gracious bow. It was a gesture from a time she'd never known, and was graceful in a way that humans could never be. "I'm ready to leave now, if you wish."

This time it was Lisa who almost smiled. "Let me get my coat."