Turns out she's way less of an asshole about making me rest than you are. Let me use the kitchen knives and everything.

[ Is he gloating about being well enough to do this? A little bit. He's been saying that he's recovered for at least the last day. Alucard gets all weird about broken skulls and acts like they're a big deal. Skulls grow back!

He puts the tray on Alucard's lap and sets about stacking more pillows behind him to sit him up properly. The Trantoul Estate is everything one wouldn't expect a vampire lair to be, all soft beds and slightly-uneven cobbled floors and vases of undying flowers and magical not-sunlight streaming through stained glass windows. Aurelius, a yappy little ratter of a dog, follows on the heels of whoever he thinks is must likely to pay attention to him. Right now, he's asleep next to Alucard's feet.

The meal isn't the best he's made, Sypha hasn't given him permission to leave to hunt yet and so he's only had the estate's supplies to work with. But there's meat and vegetables and tea-made-with-leaves-and-honey-and-no-blood. ]

Eat up, Doctor No-Blood.