Lysa was gasping as she returned with a covered jug tight against her chest. Yudarh raised his eyebrows as the girl entered the room where he was still sitting with the baby in his arms.
"You didn’t have to run, child," he noted, following her with his look, as she set the jug on the table. "He was not going to die any moment soon. Probably.”
"It’s been too long since he last ate, of course I needed to run, master," she muttered, putting one hand on the table and the other on her chest where her heart was threatening to jump from.
Yudarh said nothing and got up.
"Sit down, then," he said, gesturing with his free hand to the place left vacant. "And I do not want any complaints about what you may see me doing."
The girl frowned, but she ended up following his suggestion, sitting on the edge of the armchair and closing her eyelids for a second, taking a deep breath.
Yudarh headed to a low cupboard, where he lingered for a few seconds, accompanied by the clink of glass, until he brought with him a knife and a flask funneled at the mouth. He set them and the baby on the table. He glanced at Lysa before opening the earthen jug she'd brought. He peered at the amount of milk – it would still be enough for the little one to drink a few times. He opened the tapered vial and filled it. Then he raised Ayalal's back and head, supporting them with his hand, and tried to give it to him to drink. The baby grimaced and got milk all over himself, refusing to swallow the liquid, as the teenager had already described. It seemed more like a reaction to an unpleasant taste than some kind of malady.
"Weird babies..." he thought out loud, laying Ayalal back on the table without bothering to clean him. The tiefling reopened the jar and took the knife. He placed a forefinger on the bottleneck and let the blade make a small cut.
"Hey..." Lysa started to get up.
“I do not want any complaints!” Yudarh remembered, while three drops of blood fell on the milk. He set the knife down, closed the flask, and shook it, allowing the two liquids to mix.
She puffed her cheeks and took a fist to her mouth, preventing it from speaking. Lysa recalled herself that she trusted him, that she didn’t believe he would harm a baby, that she owed him more than life itself, and that Yudarh had never intended to collect that debt.
He picked up the baby again and let a drop of milk fall on his parted lips. As a first reaction, Ayalal grimaced as he felt the liquid, but then seemed to taste it. The half-demon offered him a few more drops, allowing him to get used to the different nuance the milk had, before giving him more to drink.
Lysa watched them, expectantly. Finally, Yudarh moved closer to her and lowered himself to return the baby.
"You can continue," he said, handing her the bottle. "I'll prepare more for you to take to the orphanage."
She hesitated, watching him go back to the table.
"Master, this... this... will not hurt him? Can it not make him... like it?”
"I'm counting on you to ‘wean’ him of my blood," he replied. "This is to be kept between us. And don’t you dare give him your blood, or I'll be very upset.”
“Because…?”
Yudarh looked away from what he’s doing, looking at her, keeping his hand dripping over the jar.
"Because if something were to go wrong, and he wasn't able to control the call that the blood might have on him... he possibly would have more tendency to drink one he already knows. And if that happens, I'll handle it.”
Lysa's gaze dropped to Ayalal, who sucked the milk, slowly, sleepily. She could well imagine how master Yudarh would deal with a bloodthirsty half-vampire. She shivered.
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