Lem slipped easily around his new vampire master, daggers already in his hands as he stepped into the kitchen. There, he immediately saw what had caused Lady Nassau to react - though, admittedly, not at all in the way he would have expected.
One of the thralls in the kitchen, a service whose name Lem was unfamiliar with, stood in frozen horror, a knife in one hand, a slowly bleeding cut in the other. This, Lem realized immediately, was one of the most important reasons why one of the blood should never find themselves in the vicinity of the kitchen.
Stowing his blades, Lem took immediate action, still unsure as to why his master hadn't reacted yet. He grabbed the service thrall's wrist, plunging the cut into a nearby basin of water to try and dilute the effect that the blood might have. Then, he fumbled around, found a towel, and pulled the service's hand out of the water, tightly binding the cut with the towel. Without another word, Lem turned back around to face Lady Nassau. She was staring at the service thrall, a weird flicker in her crimson red eyes. Cursing internally, Lem strode forward, and did something he'd never dared to attempt before - he touched his master. He knew he had to be careful. The mark of the thrall on his forehead wouldn't let him harm his master, or even try to harm her. However, that didn't mean he couldn't try and move her out of the kitchen.
Wrapping one arm around her waist, Lem tugged on her, trying to push her out. She moved easily, unresisting, taking one step backwards, and then another, and then she was out of the kitchen and Lem spun around and slammed the door to the kitchen shut. He leaned against it, the panic of the moment finally catching up to him. His chest heaved as he tried to remember to breathe. That could have gone so much worse. He looked to Lady Nassau, who was blinking slowly, as if coming out of a trance.
"Are you all right?" Lem asked her, not sure why he was asking. Not sure if he cared. This had been a stupid idea, and he was ashamed that he hadn't anticipated this before it had happened.
"I…" Lady Nassau blinked again, hard. She shook her head slightly. "Fine," she said. "I'm fine."
She certainly didn't appear fine, but Lem wasn't going to challenge her on the statement. He wanted to tell her she should definitely not come here ever again, but she was the master and he was a lowly thrall. It wasn't his choice to make. "Should we… go?" he asked hesitantly.
Lady Nassau frowned a little. "You haven't gotten your food yet," she protested weakly.
Lem was still recovering from the momentary panic. He wasn't sure he'd be able to eat. But Lady Nassau wanted him to get some food, so… "I'll go get something," he said, turning back to the door. When he walked back into the kitchen, the service was shaking and crying. She was sitting on the floor, curled up in a ball of misery. Rather than engage, Lem just glanced around the kitchen, spotted a loaf of bread, and carried it back out into the hallway. "This should do," he said.
Lady Nassau still looked dazed, but she nodded.
Lem stood awkwardly in the hall, waiting for her to say something or move. Instead she continued to stand still, appearing slightly dazed. Finally deciding that this was going nowhere, Lem asked, "Should we return to your quarters?"
"Oh," Lady Nassau said in a small voice, "Yes, I suppose so."
Lem took point, careful to glance over his shoulder every so often to make sure Lady Nassau hadn't drifted off to gaze mindlessly into the middle distance again. He wasn't sure what to make of the reaction. Even a small amount of blood was usually a surefire way to spark a frenzy in a vampire, even one as well-fed as one of the blood was likely to be. He didn't understand how Lady Nassau remained calm. He'd seen a glint of something in her eyes, though he couldn't pinpoint whether it had been predatory, or something else.
He wished he understood why his new master - so perceptive she'd noticed his daggers weren't actually magical - was also somehow resistant to the allure of fresh blood. It didn't make sense. He'd never heard of a vampire who could resist the call of such a thing. On the one hand, it explained why she hadn't worried about walking around the manor all by herself. If she was immune to the siren song of human blood, then she needn't worry so much about sharing a space with a human thrall. Did she ever thirst at all, or was it just that she was easily satisfied by whatever blood she had already drank? Lem wasn't sure he understood her at all.
Though, in fairness, the incident had clearly affected her demeanor, if nothing else. She still seemed dazed, even as they walked for several minutes after the incident. Her brows were furrowed and there was a small downturn to her lips, and she was moving slowly. Lem wanted to ask her if this had happened before, or if this was a new experience for her, but he wasn't sure how to ask. He wasn't sure if he should ask. It might get him in trouble, and he couldn't afford to make her angry so soon after becoming her personal weapon.
Finally, they reached her quarters. Lem entered first, checking the room for anything suspicious. Seeing nothing, he turned back to the door where Lady Nassau stood, once more staring blankly into empty air.
"Lady Nassau," Lem called softly. "The room is secured."
She blinked, twice, before her eyes shifted, refocusing on Lem. "Thank you," she said, moving into the room and heading straight for her huge four-poster bed, tugging aside the canopy and throwing herself facedown on the mattress, not even bothering to crawl under the blankets.
Lem stared at her for a long minute. He knew that vampires slept in order to clear their minds, not because they needed sleep to survive. After all, an undead body was sustained solely on the unholy sacrifice of human blood, nothing more, nothing less.
After a moment's consideration, Lem settled down on the couch where he'd slept, and began to nibble on the bread he'd gotten from the kitchen. A thoughtful frown creased his brow as he watched the young vampire sleep like the corpse she was.