Now that the boy could properly see him, his eyes went wide as he recognized who he was. He quickly bowed his head as much as he could in his position.
"I-I'm so sorry, my lord," he stammered, his lips quivering as if he were about to cry.
Damien didn't care for his apologies. He just wanted to see the old vampire, Petrov, and leave this annoyingly bright place he calls home.
"Where is Petrov?"
The boy shakily raised a hand and pointed toward a door down the hallway. "H-He's in there."
Damien slowly dropped him back onto the floor, and to the boy's surprise, he reached down and patted his head before turning away.
The boy stood frozen in place, staring after Damien as he made his way down the hallway.
—
He reached the door and didn't bother knocking, pushing it open.
Inside, Councilor Petrov sat comfortably in an armchair, a thick book in hand, his reading glasses perched on the bridge of his nose.
