Her throat moves as she swallows, involuntary. Sunshine's gaze finds his and holds, eyes the color of the midday sky meeting those darker than a moonless night.

Mask or not, lingering humanity or an act, she meets him as he is. With all she is, and all that he is, open and honest. Food-maker, warrior, hands covered in flour or in blood to feed her world body and soul. Monster, man, living blood and unbeating heart in unending love and impassioned hatred.

"Yes," she agrees - then, greatly daring. "Until then... Vlad."

Sunshine has never before spoken his name aloud. His title, the one best known to her, yes, but never his name.