Fuzzworth led Lily down a hallway lit by orange lamps. The seamstress worked behind a door at the end. But Lily stopped short. A new fear hit him. He still did not know what monster he should become. If he picked wrong, the seamstress would see through him. A costume he could not act out would expose him faster than cotton fur ever had. "Wait," Lily said. "What should I even be?" Fuzzworth scratched a horn. "Pick something you can sell. A monster you can move like." They shrugged. "That part's on you, kid." Lily watched the monsters passing in the hall. A tall one hunched and dragged its feet. He could not copy that. Another floated near the ceiling. Impossible. His chest tightened. Then a woman swept past. She wore a long black gown stitched with red thread. Her skin was pale, her eyes dark red. She walked slow and straight, chin high, hands folded. She did not shuffle or float. She just moved like a person who knew she belonged. This was Carmilla Noctis. Lily did not know her name yet. He only knew he could stand that way. He could lift his chin. He could walk slow. A vampire did not need claws or floating or fur that smelled right. A vampire looked almost human. "Her," Lily whispered. "I want to be a vampire." Fuzzworth grinned. "Smart. Easiest monster to fake." But Carmilla stopped. She turned her red eyes on Lily. She leaned close and breathed in through her nose. Lily froze. His whole plan hung on this moment. "A child," she said. Her voice was smooth and cold. "A human child." The hallway went quiet. Two monsters nearby backed away. Lily's heart slammed. He made himself speak, the way he had with Fuzzworth. "I want to pass as a vampire," he said. "I'm going to try." Carmilla studied him. A small smile touched her mouth. "Vampires don't slouch." She tapped his shoulder. "Chin up. Slow steps. Never look surprised." She demonstrated one gliding step. "If you want my kind, you learn my kind." Then her smile sharpened. "But a real vampire needs pale skin. Cold hands. Fangs that look grown, not bought." She tilted her head. "The seamstress can sew cloth. She cannot give you those." She turned and walked off, gown whispering across the floor. Lily let out a breath. He had his answer. A vampire. Something he could act. Fuzzworth clapped his back so hard he stumbled. But Carmilla's words stuck. Pale skin. Cold hands. Real fangs. The costume was only half the problem now. A stitched cloak would not fool a creature that could smell his warm blood. He had chosen his monster. Now he needed to become one from the skin out.