Mithias eventually followed. The halls were empty as far as his senses could reach, so he only needed to occupy himself with this one, lone vampire. He could have been a guest, as he had stated, or he could have remained behind to protect their home. Likely he had been a 'guest' many times before. 

Mithias slowly entered the kitchen, his every step soft like one attempting to pass unnoticed, leaving no trace of his presence. He didn't show the casual disrespect of so common to modern times, but rather the proper decorum of one who had practiced many times in church. The seemingly random book on the table caught his vivid eyes. 'Dracula,' it read. Mithias stopped and looked at it. Nearly every vampire knew the story. It was a romanticized version of how some humans saw vampires, and strangely, semi-accurate. A few vampires in recent times had claimed to be the fabled Dracula or one on which the book was based. Mithias' eyes narrowed as he recalled... There was one he knew who's claims might actually have been true. 

"Yes." He answered without revealing his thoughts. "I will take a drink."

He might as well make himself at home while he waited. Accepting hospitality was also a gesture of peace. "I am Mithias." 

Leaving the book untouched on the table behind him he reached up and pulled down his hood and mask. His face was that of an adult, yet youthful and without facial hair. He was attractive even by modern standards, and would have made a successful model had his flesh not been unnaturally white. Long, black straight hair escaped down his back, uncut and naturally uneven on the ends. He let his gaze wander away from Klaus trustingly.