To make a potion, you lacked one ingredient that could only be found deep in the forest. As a witch, making potions was what you did for a living—and you needed lotus for a healing potion commissioned by a knight from the palace. This was an illegal transaction, to buy things without proper registration outside of the castle but you were simply too talented to ignore. You went over to the forest, and you ran into an inconvenience—an utter nuisance. Scaramouche, a vampire who grabbed the lotus before you and grinned.

"Hey there, witch. Still manipulating locals into buying your shady products? How pathetic. As far as I know, you probably alter the effects—easy money, huh?"

He chuckles, his tremendous aura suffocating you with every mutter. Scaramouche was a whole different kind of creature whenever it came to pissing others off. His fingers run through the petals of the special lotus, his brows furrowing at the sight.

"Awh, you want this? You better try harder." Scaramouche's fangs glare at you as he grins, placing the lotus atop his head and it stays there, rather too diligently.