Annan and the Street Sweeper reached the Castle. Through the heavy rain, they could make out figures moving about the banquet hall on the upper terrace, where lively chatter spilled into the night.
Gatherings were how all intelligent beings made connections and traded favors. Elves held balls, Dwarves convened meetings, Orcs gathered for barbecues, and Vampires were no exception. In fact, they were much like humans.
It was hard to say whether the tradition had begun with humans or Vampires.
"Here comes what you're best at." The Centurion pointed toward the terrace. "Charming people, seducing them..."
"That's prejudice," Annan protested.
The Centurion suggested they split up. She would look for a chance to cause some damage, while Annan could do as he pleased.
Annan suspected she thought he would only get in her way, but he didn't object.
Tossing the Umbrella back to Annan, the Centurion stepped into the rain.
Her figure changed as she walked. She grew shorter, her hair flowed down in waves, a skirt took shape, and her eyes turned a dark red like a Vampire's. Looking every bit a maid, she entered the Castle.
An old-fashioned corridor lined with red carpet led deep into the Castle. The Centurion looked around for stairs to the upper floor... Then she suddenly doubled back and stared at a portrait hanging on the wall.
It showed a beautiful blonde woman and a handsome red-haired man. The woman must have been Prince Lydia. As for the man beside her... was that Miss Oroda?
Something about the Oil Painting bothered the Centurion. After a moment's thought, she pulled a drawing board, Paint, and brushes from her clothes and began working on it...
Whenever a Servants passed, she pretended to clean. Before long, she had finished her doodle—replacing the man's head with Annan's.