//Author Note: I would strongly urge you to read Rotten Æther | Scribble Hub alongside this story. Shared world and setting, with crossovers coming!//

 

“You will be married on the first of next month.” Uncle’s declaration is not simply sudden but so absolutely insane in its content that I can’t even find the words to reply to him.

I don’t think there’s a person alive who would respect such a decree, or think such a marriage legitimate, but here he is saying it regardless. Is he insane, or just so deeply convinced of his own plans that he doesn’t realize how others will react?

Perhaps I kill him today and be done with it, but I do not feel ready. My last hunt was wonderfully successful but too much of it was predicated on luck, and with many servants in this house, I cannot afford to be found out as a monster through an avoidable mistake.

That thought aside, his words stay with me as I curl up in my favourite chair. The window is again covered by curtains, the sun’s curse locking me away. After a few hours, I can no longer hang about like a sullen ghost. This house has enough ghosts without me imitating them.

“This invitation came for you,” Therina says as I return to my room, passing me a note drowned in thick flowery perfumes. “It was bothersome to get it from the servants, so I’m not certain I can ensure such mail will be reliably delivered in the future.”

“Thank you,” I reply, taking the letter from her. “I hired you to assist me as my lady’s maid, not to clean out the estate of the pests that infest it. That task is left to me, try not to let it bother you.”

Therina pales slightly as she meets my gaze, she shuffles awkwardly, losing her usual composure.

“Is something the matter?” I ask.

“It’s nothing.”

“Even so, sometimes it’s nice to discuss purposeless things. It can alleviate the heavy air.”

“Then it’s even better that I keep this to myself,” Therina replies quietly, shrinking into herself.

“Please, if it bothers you, then speak,” I say. “You’re important to me and I have time that I can spare for you, even if it’s a difficult topic.”

“I… I don’t want to offend you, my lady.” She says, bowing her head and reaffirming her stance. Her perfect formality runs at odds with her quivering voice. “Rumour has spread about a certain incident in the lower streets. The death of a knight and a number of his men.”

“Ah, yes. The world is better with him gone, no?”

“I suppose,” she says. “It’s just the violence, it’s… I just don’t want to see you in that light, miss. You are meant to be a true noble, but if you act like this all the time, then I’m not sure that you won’t become just like the other corrupt nobles.”

“Yes, I’ve worried about that myself,” I say, setting the letter down on my desk. “I am undeniably a monster. That much is a simple truth. The violence I perpetrated on that knight and his men is proof enough of that. Yet… are the knights not themselves perpetrators of violence?”

Therina tilts her head in thought as she hears my thoughts. They aren’t truly arguments, I’m not myself convinced of what I’m saying, I’m simply giving voice to the uncertain musings I’ve had on the top of my mind.

“Knights earn their title through proof of both strength and loyalty, their purpose is to protect our people and our kingdom. Yet, that protection is nothing more than an expression of violence against those who we consider threats. It’s a noble’s role to guide the use of that violence to forge a better kingdom for all, is it not so?”

“That’s right,” Therina nods slowly before building momentum, still she pauses in thought. “That makes sense, but…”

“It doesn’t seem quite right? It doesn’t seem noble enough?” I ask. “I feel the same, but the nobility has become so corrupt that proper actions are no longer effective. I have no power to do what needs doing. Instead, I must use… less pleasant means to effect change.”

If these means allow me to indulge my new desires, then that should be fine too, no? But how many other pig-blooded nobles have used that same justification? I cannot allow myself to fall in the same way, my blood may be gone, but I was born a noble. I will hold myself to a higher standard. I must hold myself to such standards.

“I see,” Therina says, her head still bowed.

“Continue to watch over me, and should you lose faith in me, then I would like to hear it,” I say. “I would rather not find myself becoming the same as the other nobles.”

She nods, but there is a hesitant air about her, and I have my doubts that she’ll be willing to directly address the topic again.

With that discussion dealt with I look to the letter on my desk, the perfume coating it is thick enough for a human to be able to sense it and seems an intentional effect. There’s no doubt that this was sent by another young lady of my own age, the older nobles don’t usually go to such lengths.

I slice it with a flick of my letter opener, spilling the words out onto my desk.

It is an invitation.

Unexpected, but a welcome change of pace all in all. It fits into my plans easily enough. Whether for good or for ill, my time has become rather free since my meetings with the other nobles went so poorly.

These girls are themselves noble-born, perhaps they’ve heard rumours of my recent efforts. I can see no other decent reasoning for the timing of this invitation, nor an explanation for why they insist that we meet this afternoon, a tight schedule compared to most such parties, even the small tea parties such as this.

“Therina, prepare a dress for me. I need something for a party,” I say. “Oh, and a parasol. The sun’s touch is still quite foul, but I cannot bury my head in some hood like a criminal. Not for this, at least.”

“Yes, my lady.” Therina bows and runs to my closet to find a suitable dress, shoes, and accessories. I haven’t assessed her abilities in terms of fashion just yet, but I suppose that this could be considered a test in itself.

“We’ll have Henry guide us there,” I say. “I can’t trust uncle’s men and I can’t recover enough funds to spend on renting a carriage.” I wouldn’t even know who to rent from.

“Will that be acceptable?” Therina asks, “This is a proper noble affair, isn’t it?”

“It shouldn’t be considered acceptable, but we have no better choice,” I admit with a weary sigh. I may not feel any need to sleep any longer, but it seems more of a curse than a blessing, as the weights bearing down on my mind only grow heavier and heavier the longer I remain awake. Sleep could take the edge off my worries, but that is no longer possible for me.

“This situation is simply that desperate,” I admit with a shake of my head. “Perhaps I can find another source of funds…”

The thugs that I slaughtered the other night surely had some ill-gotten gold stashed away in their territory, and it would do more good in my hands than theirs. I doubt that I can find it now, but I’m certainly not finished hunting. This is a good lesson, I should make the most of my food, and not leave scraps, in the form of shiny coins, behind.

“Let’s be quick about this, then,” I say preparing myself, with Therina’s help.

For now, my uncle and his servants keep their distance, I don’t know what mad thoughts inspire his plots but they watch me leave without hindering me. I cannot let him control this situation; I must get out ahead of him. Let him wonder and worry about my schemes today.

The streets are still bright with sunlight as I leave, and without my cloak, a brief touch is enough to bubble my skin most unpleasantly. Even under the protection of a parasol, I find myself burning in the warmth of the unkind light.

My dress is quite conservative, protecting my wrists and ankles from the unwanted affections of the sun far above. The god’s intense gaze is enough to make me weak in the knees, I do so wish that he could perhaps look away for a time.

We walk the streets with a confidence that we do not deserve, considering that nobles do not walk the streets. Those locals near my estate have grown somewhat used to my odd nature, but the further out we go the more intense the scrutiny placed upon us.

We are not stopped or targeted by the street scum hoping to steal a living from us, but that is as much because of luck as it is intimidation. Unfortunately, I’ll be forced to leave it all to Henry if any violence befalls us here. As I understand it, even a powerful vampire is made vulnerable by the sunlight. While my skin might one day protect me from the direct light of the sun, it is a thin armour, easily pierced.

We arrive at the estate on schedule, but it is an unfortunate bother to get through the gates. While the guards were not expecting me to arrive on foot, they still go about their tasks with the proper dignity and haste expected of them, wasting little time before ushering us in.

“Christina, is your uncle truly so awful as to bar you from using a carriage?” The young lady of the house asks as she walks down the steps to greet me. The act of lowering herself to my level is quite intentional and I let a genuine smile rise to my lips.

“I fear that my uncle’s men would get us lost, I’m only unsure as to whether it would be by intention or incompetence,” I say, shaking my head in exasperation. “My house has fallen far.”

“I wish it weren’t so,” she replies.

Lady Shari. She is an acquaintance that I’d not considered particularly close, but now she welcomes me as no others have.

“It is truly terrible to learn all that has befallen you and your family.”

“My heart grows heavier the more that I learn of my house’s failings and downfall,” I say shaking my head. “Yet, I cannot spend my time in contrition. I must repair this damage.”

“You are braver than I had thought,” Shari says, smiling distantly. “Let’s be away to the gardens. I have a table set for us, the others have been told to come a half-hour hence to allow you time to settle in.”

“You have my gratitude,” I say, following her to the gardens.

“I’ll have one of my maids show your manservant to the breakroom,” she says, waving over a maid to do just that. “Now, is there anything that we must know to avoid? I know that there has been much trauma over the past few days for you.”

Things to avoid?

The sunlight.

However, I can’t come out and say as much, even as polite as she’s being I can’t blurt out my greatest weakness so lightly. She is not like reeve Lewark, and this secret would not provide some great service to the world at large when shared through noble rumours.

 I steady myself and pretend that the light is no trouble at all as I find an answer that might satisfy her.

“I can think of nothing that mustn’t be broached,” I say. “I would avoid discussion of my family’s demise, simply for the gruesome nature of such talk. Besides that, there is nothing that comes to mind.”

“Christina,” she purses her lips tight. “You don’t need to be so guarded with me. It must pain you to remember what happened, I will not think you weak for admitting it.”

“No, that’s not it,” I say, meeting her eyes. “If anything, I am worried that I may be too apathetic to the loss.”

“Not at all, there are those who respond coldly to such trauma and it does not make you a monster.” She smiles warmly, unintentionally touching on a topic that has bothered me these past days. “In time this apathy, ‘a chilled mind’ I’ve called it when I’ve observed it, it will pass.”

“You have experience?” I ask as we take seats at the gazebo, there is blessedly a ceiling protecting me from the sunlight. Therina is still close by with the parasol in case the angled light becomes a threat to me.

“There are few whose lives are wholly untouched by tragedy,” Lady Shari says, her eyes turning to her hands and the distant past. The maid sets out the tea cups and starts pouring. Shari quickly returns her attention to me.

“Before… before all this, I could say that I was one of those few,” I admit, sipping at the tea. It tastes terrible, and my enhanced senses only serve to worsen the experience. It’s not as though it tastes any different to how it had when I was alive, it’s just that my body now rejects the flavour as something terrible.

Shari nods slowly, allowing the silence to settle and letting the topic drift away. The foul feelings that were breaking through my frozen defences ease and soon I return to my better senses.

“I am to be wed to my cousin,” I say, taking another sip. It doesn’t taste even a fraction as foul as the words that I myself express. “I’m not sure that I can escape it. The lesser nobles no longer believe in their duties, and they are not at all loyal to me.”

“It’s your uncle’s schemes?” She asks, to which I nod firmly. Trying to keep my voice level is a challenge in itself, I’m torn between screaming and crying, now that I have someone with whom I can talk about this.

I thought my emotions gone, why is it so difficult to bury them all of a sudden?

“Then we will find ways around it,” Shari does not express a single doubt, and her unerring confidence draws me in. In but a moment she becomes twice as beautiful.

“Without support, I can think of nothing…”

“The others that I’ve invited will have thoughts to enhance my own, so… oh, there is Henriette now,” she says, looking over the gardens to a young lady marching over to us with the gait of a warrior marching onto the battlefield. She keeps her hair cut short and wears an elegant blade on her hip.

She bows to our host and then to me with casual ease before finding her own seat. The curious conflict between formality and relaxed familiarity stealing my words away.

“Another marriage, is it?” She asks, looking between us.

“Her own cousin,” Shari spits with a shake of her head. “Christina, this is Henriette Faron, she is the youngest daughter of Viscount Faron and a good friend. You can trust her as you trust me.

“It’s a pleasure,” I say, offering my hand. She takes it as a nobleman might, pressing her lips to the back of my hand.

She’s warm. I can feel the steady beat of her heart through the brief touch, her lips defrost the ice on the back of my hand, leaving a mark that lasts for more than a few seconds.

Her eyes look up at me with unspoken questions, but she does not press me. She squeezes my hands in a slight show of affection before letting me go.

“There is any number of means to escape such a betrothal so long as you are brave enough to stand against your family,” she says.

“In this case, it is your uncle trying to claim your title for his own progeny, no?” Shari says.

“Yes, that is his goal as far as I can tell.”

“Then, you can marry someone who has power enough to keep your uncle in line,” Henriette says, her hand reaching for her sword instinctively.

“Or,” Shari interrupts her friend, “There is the option of engaging yourself with someone that wouldn’t immediately interfere with his plans. This would give you time to make your own schemes rather than depending upon someone else’s power.”

“What do you mean?”

“Are familiar with dead branches?” she asks, continuing as she sees the question in my eyes. “It is a marriage designed to kill the noble titles of those engaged. Quite simply, it is the marriage of either two ladies or two lords. A couple of the same sex cannot bear children, thus they can have no proper heirs and the title dies in their generation.

“This sort of marriage is fairly common among families with too many children. You see, it is most common that such marriages are a sham in themselves, and while some few are passionate about their vows, most find paramours or lovers outside of wedlock.

“I see you are somewhat lost,” she smiles warmly and laughs softly, the way she glances towards Henriette makes it clear that her humour is directed at the situation and not my limited understanding of it.

I never knew that this sort of scheming took place. It’s as if I’ve been dropped into an alien world bearing only a flimsy mask of the world that I was raised into. The idea that divine vows would be abused in such schemes… it’s truly despicable.

We are meant to marry to form a strong family bond, to support one another and work together to serve the Kingdom and its people. Instead, it is just another tool for schemes and manipulations.

“Without any support from the other nobles, your options are limited,” Shari says. “I believe that these are your best options. Of course, whichever you choose, it may be possible to annul the engagement when you manage to gather enough support to maintain a claim to your title.”

“I don’t know anyone…” I say. “Who could I even trust? Who would accept this sort of game?”

Hesitantly I turn toward Henriette. If one of these dead branch betrothals is my best option, then she seems a fine choice, but I can’t exactly suggest as much aloud having just met her.

“I had thought that might be the case,” Shari says, shaking her head subtly with a small smile. “I have invited young… ah, here she is.”

“Hiya! What’s going on here? I’m right on time, did you start without me again?!” A girl, a few years younger than me hops over to us with a deep frown. “I thought you said you wouldn’t do that to me anymore! I don’t like being left out!”

“Christina, this is Belle Lelune,” Sheri says, waving a hand at the girl. “Belle, this is Christina Greystone.”

“Hi, I haven’t seen you around here before,” she has not a hint of noble bearing to her, and she even talks like a commoner right off the streets. Her long silver hair is straight as it can be, and her bangs are cut to frame her expressive face.

“I haven’t left the house much, I’m afraid,” I say. It’s an unfortunate truth that my family were very careful, restricting me from seeing this world. It was rare for me to come out to tea parties like this one.

“Her family was lost in an incident,” Shari explains for me. “Her uncle is trying to marry her back into the family to take her title, she’s considering a dead branch marriage.”

“Oh… wait, are you trying to get us hitched?” She jumps, looking between me and Shari, “Isn’t this too fast?”

“Your situation hasn’t improved, has it?” Shari asks. “You’re in as much need as Christina here.”

“Yeah, but still…” she grumbles without dignity.

“Belle’s parents fancy themselves knights more than nobles, and they’ve rubbed shoulders with the commoners long enough that it’s affected their daughter,” Shari laughs.

Belle shuffles awkwardly, taking her seat and sipping at her tea. She glances up at me occasionally but turns away the moment I meet her gaze.

“You’re also being set up for marriage?”

“One of the royals is after her and it’s not for her title,” Henriette says gravely. “A proper marriage could offer her some protection from his advances.”

“Are you even old enough?” I ask.

“The royals don’t worry about that stuff anymore,” Belle says, shaking her head and waving my question off. After some quiet thought, her expression twists up before she turns her eyes to me bravely, “Sorry about this, but would you do me the honour of marrying me?”

From calling it too quick to a formal proposal. I’m not certain if this girl even knows what she’s saying.

“I… I think it would be good for us to discuss a few matters before jumping into this,” I say, turning worried eyes towards the sun that’s now lowering past the cover of the gazebo. Therina is already there, bearing the parasol as a bulwark, subtly guarding me against the terrible light.

“Of course, I’m rushing things, aren’t I?” Belle says, shaking her head with a nervous chuckle.

“Is there somewhere we could have a quiet talk?” I ask, trying to find some answer to this new problem. Is this solution worth it if it only provides further problems?

If it can keep me from being forced to bed my young cousin, then the answer is obviously yes.

 

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

 

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