"Oh. That... makes sense. And he has since been informed that animals are a thing he can eat, and has since switched, probably."

"He did seem interested in the concept, and you'd know him better than I do."

"It... depends on some factors. He'd do it for me if he remembered me properly, I think, but I'm not sure he does. And I don't know how traumatized he was by his turning and how much he needs a hug about it."

"He did not seem traumatized..."

She raises her eyebrows. "He wanted to kill these people? In revenge for forcing him to kill people and turning him into a mass murderer? Thereby cutting him off from his family, his friends, and his life? Yeah, he's traumatized."

"I see." They reach a door... which turns out to be locked. "Hmm. Do you have hair pins or anything like that that you would not mind got destroyed?"

"Do you know how to pick a lock?" she asks, archly. "I have pins I'm willing to sacrifice, but not blindly."

"Yes, I know how to pick a lock. I don't always want to break into places by breaking places."

"Next time I'll bring extra pins," she snorts, carefully unpinning sections of her hair that won't come apart from it. It'll be a bit more flimsy and prone to flyaways, but the structure of her hairstyle will be intact. Because that is Very Important, clearly. She would like to stay as pretty as possible.

"You need two, right?" she confirms, offering two hairpins to James.

"Yeah," he says, accepting them. This is an older lock, which means it's heavier, but also easier to pick. He's done quickly, and opens the door for her. "You first, my lady."

"Thank you, sir," she says, with a little (mostly) sarcastic curtsy. She heads inside. "We lock this door once we're done, yeah? Ideally no one should suspect we've been here."

"Absolutely."

The door leads to some very old, very worn stairs that go down to an area of an armory that's sectioned off by rope. There's a carpet path going from one door to another, and various old weapons on display.

She doesn't touch anything, but she does gaze thoughtfully at old weapons.

"Look, James, you're among your peers!" she teases. "Old, sharp relics."

"Deadly but incredibly well-preserved and rather gorgeous, too," he agrees.

Yvette snorts, but does not disagree.

"I suppose attaching signs to them all would be a bit tacky. I bet their histories are explained in the tour we can't go on."

"Probably. But I've been to the tour here before, after I turned into a vampire," he says, grinning toothily.

"You," she accuses, "are sneaky and clever, or lucky. Yes, okay, go on, use your cheating perfect memory to relay the entire tour to me."

He laughs and launches on the tour, slightly edited to make it more interesting for Yvette in particular.

She asks questions! And adds playfully sarcastic or wry commentary! Even if he can't answer all of her questions due to not being an actual tour guide, she clearly has fun.

She's a delight.

They can move on to other rooms in the castle, then. There are decorated bedrooms and dining halls and meeting rooms and a library and...

It's lovely! The castle is lovely, and having a private tour of it is kind of fun. She even tells him so.

"You know, I couldn't be this sarcastic and snarky in a more ordinary tour. People consider it kind of rude to interrupt and add in snide comments, though I don't... mean them in a mean way."

"I find your commentary a complete joy."

"I got that impression! The giggling gave you away."

"Damnation! I must school my expression better next time."

"You must, clearly. Else I will know that you feel positively about my... Hm. Actually, no, don't do that, that is a bad plan."