"-Let me make a complete mess of your mind and body."
In a flirtatious exchange, those words might have been a signal to switch on the excitement.
But when spoken by a vampire whose inhuman, unnatural otherness could not be concealed even by the breeze of rose petals swirling around her, they carried nothing but cruelty, no matter how one looked at them.
Yet even so, Rita's smile remained as gentle and lovely as before when she said it.
As though this were nothing abnormal, merely something as trivial as inviting a friend to tea.
But that was only natural.
The young woman's air of an aristocratic lady was not an inborn gift, but the fruit her experiences had borne over time.
Although, like Forest of Einnashe Anathash, she was a second-generation Ancestor who had inherited her predecessor's position, her rise had involved no fighting or betrayal.
Rita Roseanne was second-generation in every sense of the word.
The person who had turned her into a Dead Apostle was her own blood relative, and she had been raised as a successor from the very beginning.
Those experiences had given her the typical personality of an aristocratic vampire. She wholeheartedly embraced her power and status, and had never been influenced by her human side.
Despite being the founder, she concealed her identity and served as the train's manager largely because she wanted to see her enemies or guests shaken and astonished when they discovered who she was.
Then what sort of expression would this Saint show?
Would it be solemnity at events straying from his expectations, anger at being targeted by a blasphemer, or simply surprise at her arrogant declaration?
Rita made up her mind. No matter how hostile his attitude was, she would engrave it in her memory.
After all, this