The evening following the secret passage incident dawned with painful awkwardness throughout Duke Maximilian's estate. By the time the sun had fully set and the household stirred to nighttime activity, the tension was palpable even to the least observant of the night staff.

  Elias emerged from his chambers precisely at eight, dressed impeccably in formal evening attire despite the ck of special occasion. A casual observer might have thought him entirely composed, but the slightly too-rigid posture and overly practiced smile betrayed his discomfort. He had spent the entire daylight hours oscilting between disturbed sleep and anxious contemption of his new understanding of technology.

  His entire existence at Orlov's court suddenly appeared in a new light. In the traditional court where torchlight and candlelight were the norm, where servants carried messages by hand, and where the only machines he'd ever known about were the blood extraction devices hidden away in the resource facilities, he'd been kept deliberately ignorant. Now he knew those strange wheeled devices, the glowing surfaces, the water sprayers - all of these were "technology" too. What else might exist that he'd never been told about? Even with his very limited understanding, the realization that such knowledge had been kept from him left him feeling both fascinated and uneasy.

  And now he faced an impossible dilemma. His entire purpose here was to gather intelligence on Duke Maximilian's collections and report back to Archduke Orlov. The discovery of hidden passages and those strange technological devices was exactly the kind of information Orlov would consider valuable. Even his limited understanding of what he'd seen would be worth reporting. Yet something held him back from immediately drafting a report—something beyond mere curiosity about these fascinating devices he barely understood.

  "Good evening, My Lord Consort," greeted Morris, the head of night staff, as Elias descended the main staircase. "His Grace is currently in the eastern dining room. Shall I inform him of your arrival?"

  "That won't be necessary, Morris," Elias replied with well-practiced aristocratic detachment. "I shall join him shortly. I believe I'll take a brief turn through the gallery first."

  Morris bowed with impeccable formality that nonetheless managed to convey subtle disapproval of further dey. "Very good, My Lord Consort. I shall have refreshments prepared for your eventual arrival."

  Elias nodded, pretending not to notice the emphasis on "eventual." The night staff had been giving him knowing looks since the passage incident. He'd heard whispers cease abruptly when he entered rooms and caught glimpses of what appeared to be a ledger being hastily tucked away—some sort of betting pool, no doubt, regarding when the duke and his consort would finally address the awkwardness between them.

  The gallery provided fifteen minutes of respite before social obligation could be deyed no longer. Taking a deep breath, Elias made his way to the eastern dining room.

  Maximilian stood as Elias entered, nearly knocking over his gss of blood-wine in the process. His formal bow was a study in schorly precision and social awkwardness.

  "Good evening," they both said simultaneously, then stopped, each waiting for the other to continue.

  "I trust your evening is proceeding—" Maximilian began.

  "The night is particurly clear—" Elias said at the same moment.

  They both fell silent again. The serving staff exchanged gnces that would have been imperceptible to anyone not specifically watching for them.

  "Please, continue," Maximilian gestured politely.

  "I was merely commenting on the crity of the night sky," Elias said smoothly. "The stars are quite visible from the eastern windows."

  "Indeed. Astronomical conditions are optimal at this time of year," Maximilian responded with academic enthusiasm that quickly faded to uncertainty. "That is... if one is interested in such observations."

  "Quite."

  The monosylbic response hung in the air between them. Elias took his seat, and the first course was served with excruciating formality.

  For the next hour, they engaged in perhaps the most eborately polite conversation in vampire history, discussing everything from weather patterns to historical tapestry techniques, while carefully avoiding any mention of secret passages, security systems, or technology in general.

  Elias found himself increasingly fascinated by his husband's knowledge, even while constructing verbal barricades around certain topics. Maximilian spoke with genuine passion about his historical collections, and Elias caught himself several times on the verge of asking about technological preservation before redirecting to safer subjects.

  "The preservation of pre-evolution literature presents unique challenges," Maximilian was saying, warming to a topic clearly dear to him. "Paper deteriorates at varying rates depending on acidity levels, and many volumes require specialized—" He abruptly stopped, perhaps realizing he was approaching the forbidden topic of preservation technology.

  "Specialized care, I imagine," Elias completed smoothly. "Archduke Orlov's court maintains several ancient texts as well, though primarily for ceremonial dispy rather than study."

  Maximilian looked like he wanted to comment on this approach but thought better of it. Another awkward silence descended as the main course was cleared.

  "Your Grace," Morris announced from the doorway, "the item you requested has arrived."

  "Ah, excellent," Maximilian said, adjusting his gsses nervously. "Please have it brought to the library. We'll take our dessert course there this evening."

  Elias raised an eyebrow but made no comment as they proceeded to the main library after dinner. The space was both magnificent and comfortable, with towering shelves interspersed with cozy reading nooks. Several of Maximilian's cats lounged on various surfaces, regarding the newcomers with feline indifference.

  "I thought perhaps..." Maximilian began, then cleared his throat. "That is, I noticed you seemed interested in Prometheus, and thought you might appreciate..." He gestured to a small covered basket near one of the reading areas.

  Curious despite himself, Elias approached and carefully lifted the lid. Inside, curled on a soft bnket, was a tiny bck kitten with a single white paw.

  "Oh," Elias said softly, genuine surprise breaking through his careful composure. The kitten looked up at him with huge golden eyes and gave a tiny, squeaky meow that would have melted a far harder heart than his.

  "I've observed you watching Prometheus sometimes," Maximilian expined, referring to his rge orange tabby who ruled the library with benevolent despotism. "Cats make excellent companions for schorly pursuits. They're independent yet present. Rather like..." he trailed off, apparently thinking better of whatever comparison he'd been about to make.

  Elias gently lifted the kitten, which immediately batted at a strand of his hair with microscopic cws. "Does she have a name?"

  "I thought that privilege should belong to you," Maximilian said, a hint of an actual smile softening his usually serious expression.

  Something warm and unfamiliar expanded in Elias's chest. The gift was thoughtful in a way he hadn't expected—personal without being presumptuous, offering companionship without demanding anything in return.

  "Nightshade, perhaps," Elias mused, watching the little bck kitten attempt to climb his formal jacket. "Though she seems less poisonous than pyful."

  "An excellent name," Maximilian agreed, visibly rexing now that the gift had been well-received. He took a step closer, reaching out tentatively to stroke the kitten's head with one finger. "Though appearances can be deceiving. I suspect she'll be hunting mice through the estate in no time."

  Their hands brushed as they both petted the kitten, and neither immediately pulled away. The moment held a strange, fragile quality that neither seemed willing to disturb.

  Which is precisely when chaos erupted.

  Prometheus, apparently feeling his feline supremacy threatened, chose that moment to leap from a high shelf directly onto Maximilian's shoulders. The duke, caught by surprise, stumbled forward, colliding with Elias. The kitten, startled by the sudden movement, scrambled up Elias's jacket to his shoulder, digging in tiny needle cws for stability.

  Maximilian's other cats, sensing excitement, abandoned their various perches to investigate. One striped tabby knocked over an inkwell on Maximilian's desk. A fluffy Persian started batting at loosened papers, sending them cascading to the floor.

  "Prometheus, no!" Maximilian excimed, trying to detach the rge orange cat from his shoulders while simultaneously reaching for the falling papers.

  Elias, attempting to protect the kitten while steadying Maximilian, lost his bance. They both went down in an undignified heap just as Morris entered with the dessert tray.

  The head of night staff took in the scene—the Duke and his Consort tangled on the floor, surrounded by scattered papers, ink spreading across priceless carpets, and cats taking full advantage of the chaos—and somehow maintained a perfectly neutral expression.

  "Shall I return at a more opportune moment, Your Grace?" he inquired with dignity that deserved some kind of award.

  The absurdity of the situation finally broke through. Elias ughed first, a startled sound quickly stifled behind his hand. Maximilian blinked in surprise, then his mouth twitched, and suddenly they were both ughing—Maximilian with quiet dignity that gradually dissolved into genuine mirth, Elias with increasing abandon.

  "My sincerest apologies, Morris," Maximilian managed between chuckles, making no immediate move to disentangle himself from Elias. "It seems the feline contingent has staged a coup."

  "Indeed, Your Grace," Morris replied, setting down the dessert tray on the only clear surface remaining. "I shall fetch cleaning supplies. And perhaps reinforcements."

  As Morris departed, Elias became acutely aware of their proximity. Maximilian's arm was still half-wrapped around him from their fall, and the kitten had found safety in the space between them, purring loudly.

  "I believe your gift has already formed an attachment," Elias said, not quite meeting Maximilian's eyes.

  "Cats are excellent judges of character," Maximilian replied softly.

  The tension between them had transformed into something different—still present but no longer strained. When their eyes finally met, there was a moment of shared acknowledgment that something had shifted.

  Maximilian cleared his throat. "I should perhaps mention, regarding yesterday's... incident..."

  "The secret passages?" Elias supplied, deciding directness might be refreshing after so much careful avoidance.

  "Yes." Maximilian nodded, sitting up but remaining close. "I would be happy to show you the proper way to navigate them. Without the, ah, watery welcome."

  "I'd like that," Elias said honestly. The kitten climbed onto his p, demanding attention, and he obliged with gentle scratches. "Though I admit I'm curious about those strange devices in the passage. The moving metal thing that chased me. What did you call it all... technology?"

  He deliberately used the word they'd been avoiding, watching Maximilian's reaction carefully. The duke tensed momentarily, then seemed to make a decision.

  "Preservation of knowledge," Maximilian said simply. "The things you saw—the moving device, the water system, the glowing surfaces—they're all from before the evolution. Archduke Lucius believes that such knowledge, once lost, is difficult to recim."

  Elias nodded slowly, processing this limited expnation. Everything he'd been taught in Orlov's court told him that even this small revetion should immediately be reported. The very fact that Duke Maximilian kept these strange devices functioning instead of just the necessary blood farm machines was significant information.

  But sitting here, with a kitten purring in his p and Maximilian looking at him with cautious openness, the strict orders from Archduke Orlov suddenly seemed far away and less important.

  "I'd like to see more," Elias heard himself say, surprising himself with his sincerity. "About these... technology things. I've never seen anything like them."

  Maximilian's expression brightened with genuine enthusiasm. "It would be my pleasure to show you. Perhaps we could begin tomorrow evening? After sunset, of course."

  "I'd like that," Elias repeated, and found himself meaning it even more than before.

  Around them, the cats continued their campaign of cheerful destruction. Prometheus had cimed Maximilian's abandoned chair, looking thoroughly pleased with himself. The tiny kitten, Nightshade, had fallen asleep in a perfect circle on Elias's p, unconcerned with the political implications of her new owner's growing curiosity.