By the time Veil returned to his villa, it was nearly ten o'clock at night.
Alice wasn't home. Before he'd gone to the hot springs, she'd already asked for the night off—said the children at the orphanage had been getting overly excited these past few days, and the director couldn't handle it all alone, so she stayed behind to help.
As he walked upstairs, Veil wondered if Alice was actually avoiding him. Maybe she was afraid that coming back meant she'd have to teach him more lessons?
Just as that thought crossed his mind, he pushed open his bedroom door—and a flash of cold light swept toward his neck.
A dagger.
Without flinching, Veil grabbed the delicate wrist behind the blade. He applied a bit of force, and with a small cry of pain, the dagger clattered to the floor.
Veil temporarily cast aside thoughts of Alice and looked at the figure in front of him, clad entirely in a stealthy night suit—Blood Mandala.
