The bath was quite enjoyable, or rather, about as enjoyable as any pleasure of the flesh was to a vampire save that primal act of feeding. To von Schwarz, even the splendorous colors of flowers seemed faded, and not simply by virtue of lacking the sun to illuminate them. He did like the feeling of no longer being covered in the wayward filth of the road, and it was rather novel to be drenched in both cold and hot water quickly. Never had von Schwarz experienced anything like this before. Yet, feeling something unusual was about the extent of a delight he had never had in his mortal life, and it left the ritter feeling rather hollow, desirous of something else that he could truly enjoy...<br/><br/>He had grimaced in distaste when the slavs had presented him with their own creative interpretation of his family crest, but, relenting, had donned all of the clothes anyway, having grown rather tired of his traveling clothes and wanting to make the first step towards blending in with these folk by wearing clothing in their style. Albrecht wondered, however, if it would be such a good idea to enjoy his refreshment wearing these fine clothes. There simply would have to be not a single drop spilled.<br/><br/>The refreshment. He gazed at the servant, his own expression inscrutable. "Yes, thank you," he muttered to Wulf, beginning to stride over to her. It was a curse of his vampire clan that they could only feed upon a certain selection of mortals with a shared quality. It varied from one Ventrue to the next, but all were somehow constrained by a strangely particular palette. In truth, he could feed upon any woman who had never known man, but in effect von Schwarz found more occasion to feed upon maidens than the somewhat rare spinster. And, it was something that gave even him, callous as he was, some pause. While he much preferred to press his lips on a woman than another man, the latter a thought that was thoroughly revolting even given his lack of zeal towards the Church, harming a pure and beautiful lady was something that his conscience recoiled from, even given its necessity for his continued existence. And yet, the Ritter resigned himself to his base urges as he drew closer. He took some small comfort in knowing that after a moment or so, being on the receiving end of a vampire's bite was not so terrible, but it did not assuage his deep disquiet.<br/><br/>A hand rested upon the maid's shoulder as he stood from behind, seeming almost reassuring. His head began to draw near, misgivings forgotten as he could make out the veins standing out in her flesh, inviting rivers of blood waiting for him. The ritter's other palm raised up to the blonde's eyes, mercifully covering them, as without another moment's delay his fangs plunged into her body...