"Your grace, I—"
"Who is Alexander?" Alaric pressed, his tone sharper now, demanding.
Manni hesitated, his gaze darting away as though searching for a way out of the conversation. But Alaric's piercing stare left no room for evasion.
Finally, Manni sighed. "Alexander is the name of your father, your grace."
The silence that followed was heavy, almost suffocating. Alaric's hands tightened into fists on the table, though his face remained composed.
"My father," he repeated, the words tasting foreign on his tongue.
"Yes, your grace," Manni said softly.
Alaric's face grew pale, the color draining as if the weight of Manni's revelation struck him physically.
He gripped the edge of the table, his mind racing. "I thought no one knew who my father was," he said, his voice steady but laced with disbelief. "No—he was never public… not even the king knew his sister's lover."
Manni sighed, his gaze dropping briefly before meeting Alaric's again. "But I knew," he said, his tone soft yet resolute. "The coachman always knows."
Alaric's frown deepened as he leaned forward. "Explain."
"I rode your mother everywhere she needed to go," Manni began, his voice carrying the weight of memory. "And sometimes, I would bring the man who didn't need to be brought to her."
Alaric narrowed his eyes. "Didn't need to be brought?"
Manni hesitated, choosing his words carefully. "He wasn't exactly… human. I caught him in places he shouldn't have been, places he wasn't allowed. Yet, whenever Lady Reannon needed him, he was there."
Alaric stiffened, the realization dawning on him like a cold wind. He was a vampire. "He wasn't human." Alaric mumbled.
Manni nodded solemnly, avoiding Alaric's intense gaze.
"When did they meet?" Alaric asked, his voice clipped, trying to mask the whirlwind of emotions within him.
"It was mostly at night," Manni replied.
Of course, Alaric thought. Vampires thrived in the dark.
He tilted his head slightly, studying the man before him. "How come you still look… young enough? You've known her for decades. If you were human, you'd—"
Manni interrupted with a faint smile. "I know it seems strange, your grace. But I am a Witcher. Our bodies—our lifespans—they are different. It allows us to rejuvenate in ways humans cannot."
Alaric took a moment to process this before asking, "Do you think you'd recognize him? If you saw him now?"
Manni's expression darkened. "It's not just about recognizing him by sight, your grace. It's his presence. If he's here, you'll know."
Alaric sat back, his thoughts racing. His father wasn't human.
That much he could accept. But now questions swirled in his mind—how much of himself was inherited from his father?
His strength, his endurance, his sometimes unnatural instincts…
They were a result of his father's vampiric blood
He clenched his jaw. "And my mother… where did you take her to meet him?"
"A mansion on the outskirts," Manni said, his voice quieter now, his palms visibly sweating.
Alaric blinked, leaning forward again. "Oh? Do you think it's still there? Could we go now?"
Manni hesitated. "Yes, your grace. But I fear there will be nothing left but ruins. It has been decades since those meetings."
"Did she ever speak of him?" Alaric asked, his voice quieter now.
"Rarely," Manni admitted. "She was a woman of grace, your mother. Even when her heart was heavy, she carried herself with strength."
Alaric nodded slowly, absorbing the words. His mind was a storm of questions, but he forced himself to remain calm.
Alaric nodded, his resolve firming. "Then let us find those ruins. Whatever is left, I will uncover it. Prepare the carriage."
Manni stood and bowed slightly before retreating to ready the carriage. Alaric remained seated for a moment, staring at the empty space in front of him.
His mother's secret life, her mysterious lover, and his own lineage were all woven into a web he was only beginning to untangle.
He rose to his feet, his mind set. If the answers lay in those ruins, then that was where he needed to go.
As they walked back to the carriage, Alaric's thoughts churned. His mother's legacy was a mystery he had never dared to unravel before, but now, the threads were beginning to pull him in.
And for the first time, he felt ready to follow them.
Manni suddenly pulled the reins, bringing the carriage to an unexpected stop. Alaric's brows furrowed in irritation. "What is it?" he asked, his tone sharp but curious.
Manni glanced back at him, his expression thoughtful. "I think we should go at night instead, your grace. If anyone still lives there, they're more likely to be around after sunset."
Alaric considered this for a moment, then gave a short nod. "You're right. Let's turn back to the marketplace. I have a few things to take care of before then."
With a flick of the reins, Manni turned the carriage around. The ride back to the bustling streets was smooth, punctuated only by the distant hum of marketplace chatter. When they arrived, Alaric stepped down from the carriage, his gaze scanning the rows of shops and stalls.
He moved purposefully toward one vendor, examining the goods displayed. Manni waited by the carriage, observing as Alaric purchased an unusual assortment of arts product.
With every stop, the pile in the carriage grew—a curious collection that even the seasoned coachman couldn't make sense of.
Manni couldn't help but voice his thoughts as Alaric approached the carriage with yet another bundle. "Your grace, if I may ask, what's all this for?"
Alaric smirked faintly, placing the items carefully in the growing heap. "Preparations."
"For what, if I may?" Manni pressed gently.
"You'll see soon enough," Alaric replied cryptically, his tone suggesting the matter was closed.
By the time Alaric finished, the carriage was nearly overflowing with artistic goods. The curious glances from passersby did not go unnoticed, but Alaric paid them no mind.
He climbed back into the carriage with a satisfied expression.
"Let's head back to the palace for now," he instructed.
Manni nodded, flicking the reins to set the carriage in motion.
As they made their way through the city, Alaric leaned back in his seat, his mind already planning the next steps.
Whatever the night held at the mansion, he intended to not let it disrupt the flow of his current life.