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

 

I need not breathe the air, and the warmth of the sun is a curse to me, even if the effect is weaker today than yesterday. I am not human anymore, and I can never return to what I was.

Yet, I am still a noble by birth. I believe in the values that I was taught, even if those values were misdirected by erroneous facts, and I refuse to deny the responsibilities that I have inherited alongside my father’s title. I live with the privileges of luxury to better serve my people, and I will do so with my dignity intact even in the most pressing of situations.

It matters not that I’ve left my humanity behind, I cannot forget my purpose.

So, it is with a straight back and lifted chin that I look upon the roaches as they are run out of my home.

“Why are you so insistent on casting them out?” Sonia asks, yet to press me for control over this house even though she disagrees with me in how I am managing this estate.

“Many of them have nowhere to go without us,” she says, quite rightly.

Without us, many here could be damned to sleep in the streets, but I have walked those roads and known others who suffer that exact fate. Why should I extend my protection to these untrustworthy fools when so many others are in as much need? Is it not just as kind to lift others from those streets to fill the spaces made by clearing away this living waste?

“Henry, have that woman checked,” I say, pointing out one young woman who jingles with every step, hiding jewellery in her clothes, no doubt. I will not permit theft.

Henry has one of our hired thugs, a young woman herself, check the woman over. They are offered privacy, of course, and though the thief fights back, the jewels are recovered.

“What do you want done with her?” The thug, a large dwarvish woman, hauls the thief before me.

“Release her outside the gates,” I say. “The jewels never left this estate, so I am willing to forgive this misstep. She should feel lucky, if she’d set foot outside I may instead ask the reeves to take her hand.”

My words are aimed at the others, specifically the few I know to be smuggling stolen goods. As the last of the group are seen from the estate, we’re left gathering various stolen odds and ends from the grass where it was dropped.

“Make sure that they are never allowed back inside,” I say to the few thugs working at the gates.

“I didn’t take them for thieves…” Sonia says, her eyes downcast. “I know things went missing sometimes, but…”

“You needn’t be so disheartened. The common man’s life is ruled by common needs, and when desperate, one will steal to see their bellies filled. I do not blame them.”

“Then why cast them out?”

“We need maids and footmen, trusted servants, not desperate rumourmongers,” I explain. “I do not blame them, but I do not trust them, either. Therina knows some people we might reach out to, they might make for more trustworthy servants after they’ve been properly trained.”

The thugs that surround me look at the various shiny things with greed, but not one has pocketed so much as a coin.

There was not a single Knight who responded to my request, and instead, Henry managed to find others to assist us. Soldiers and mercenaries who he deemed trustworthy enough. I would have more confidence in them had he not overstressed the word ‘enough’.

‘A bunch of drunkards too good at killing to do much else, but too soft-hearted to join a gang.’ Was his description of them when I pressed him for details.

He gathered two dozen, and three of four are human with the rest being an even distribution of elf, dwarf, and norkit. One young man even seems to be of a stranger race still, bearing large horns where his forehead meets his fringe.

Only one in five of them are women, but that’s to be expected. Most commoner women tend toward the safer crafts.

“Therina has arrived, my lady,” one of my thugs informs me, bowing stiffly. He has none of the training or dignity, but he has the spirit, even if that spirit is still carried on his breath.

“Thank you,” I say, watching as my familiar maid enters through the opening gates. At her heels are a dozen young men and women, hopefuls that might be trained into proper and good servants.

“Thank you for this,” I say as she approaches.

“It was a pleasure, my lady,” she bows to me and the hopefuls follow suit. “I would like to introduce you to Miss Arneut, she has served as a head maid before and offers her service to us.”

“A pleasure,” I say, offering her my hand. She takes it with all the grace of a proper servant, and the sight warms my lips in a slight smile.

The light touches my fingers for a moment when I draw back, Sonia is not so deft with the parasol as Therina. The digits redden but do not bubble as fast as they would have in the past. Soon I may not have to worry about the curse that denies me the touch of the sun.

To that end, I must continue with my hunts.

“The pleasure is mine, my lady,” she bows low, lower than I expect given the situation. What reason has she to bow so low when coming to offer me her experience?

“My niece,” she says, pausing to consider her words. “She was… lost due to the ill-natured predation of a local noble house. I have heard that justice has been delivered and not by a lawman. Not by the reeves.”

I lower my head a fraction in a slight bow, pursing my lips in frustration.

“Then I apologise, law might be the responsibility of the reeves, but the people of this land are the responsibility of my house, and my house could not protect her,” I say, meeting her surprised eyes.

She does not deny my words, nodding ever so slightly before smiling. It is a sad smile; how could it be otherwise when in the memory of the lost?

The others are nothing so spectacular but may still be polished into good men and women. Every sword was once ore and every brick once wet clay. We will see how they progress.

“Thank you for coming here at my request,” I say, speaking to all gathered. The servants in training and thugs, as well. “There is one thing that I ask before all else, and that is respect.

“You will respect the secrets of this house, but I assure you that they are not so terrible as to offend the gods.” At least I hope not.

“You will respect this house and my name, and yourselves, as you now represent me. Stand tall with dignity, and I will see you well rewarded for your efforts and give you a chance to live with great honour.”

The word comes as naturally as any before it, but it no longer tastes quite the same. I will have to watch that I do not allow bitterness and uncertainty to flavour my pronunciation in the future.

“In return for your service, I will see to it that you have all that is required to help you grow. You will not want for food, or shelter, or need to worry for the safety of your family. You will wear only fine clothes and be granted arms that match your station. Daggers for the maids and footmen, and more specialised gear for the guardsmen.

“I will take care of you, that is my duty as a noble.”

I pause, looking through the gathered people, focusing on a few of the norkit in particular.

“Before we begin, I would like to explain that we are housing several guests at the moment. Treat them with all due respect,” I say. “Now, let us discuss living arrangements and training schedules.”

 

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

 

There were no healers that could be found to cure the freed slaves of their disfigurement, and I am no longer willing to delay. As such, the task is left to me, but I may only heal those who have offered me blood.

“I’m not afraid of a little biting,” The older woman says. “My, when I was a younger woman my sweet Myar used to bite hard enough to leave marks in me. Lookie at this one in my shoulder, now that was a passionate young man!”

I do wish that she wouldn’t be so enthused as I try to go about the task, but still, it’s not so bad as the thought of healing the men. I’d heal a hundred of her if I could avoid touching the men in such ways.

I try to keep my mind clear as I work, to prevent myself from forming memories. It is quite awful, but it is a duty owed and I cannot let myself find excuses out of it.

When all the women and children are twitching their ears, and flicking their tails, the first of the men arrive for healing. It cannot be avoided. There will be too many questions if they are seen with these injuries, and it seems that none of us wishes for such attentions.

“Come here, lie down, boy. Down!” The old woman grabs a young man and shoves him down on the bed, grabbing sheets from the side of the room and throwing them over him, showing only the wounds that must be healed.

“Come on lass, can’t keep these boys covered forever.”

“Thank you,” I whisper to her, as I take on the task. It’s not quite so noticeably terrible when I don’t have to see them.

What makes matters worse, is that they all willingly give me their blood for this purpose. It is not so powerful as the first time Piper offered herself to me, but some primal aspect of my new nature demands that I feel a deep respect for each of them.

When finally all have been healed, but for Piper, who has disappeared for some reason, I try to take my leave only for a young man to stop me.

His tall ears are almost more that of a fox than a cat, but still, he’s of the same species I’m told. His tail, at least, is long and thin as a cat’s tail should be.

“Miss Lady,” he says, scratching at his new ears. “Can I ask something?”

“You may,” I reply, biting my tongue.

“Can I be a Knight? Your Knight?” He asks. “I’m not strong yet, but I can be. I’ll train hard if you let me.”

“What is your name?” I ask.

“Sharre, Miss Lady.”

“Sharre, I’m afraid that I cannot grant you Knighthood,” I say, continuing before he grows too disappointed. “I can, however, affirm you a role of similar importance, and see you given training for the role.”

“Thank you, Miss Lady,” he says, smiling a little too broadly. For some reason, there’s a familiar smell on him, but I don’t think too much of it.

“No. Thank you for offering your service to me,” I say. “The first thing for you to learn is to always be practising your magic, whatever it is. You grow strong from casting your magic for a long time, so cast day and night.”

“I can do that!” He nods so fast that his ears flop back and forth. “I use my magic all the time already, I’ll just use it even more!”

“Try not to pass out from it.” Though it doesn’t cause lasting harm, so it’s not too important a point.

“What else, Miss Lady?” he asks.

“No more ‘Miss Lady’. I’m Miss Greystone or Lady Greystone, or perhaps Countess. Not Miss Lady,” I say. Why is Piper so well-spoken but this one so rough?

“Yes, Miss Greystone.”

“Very good,” he follows me without another comment as I walk about the house, observing my new staff in their training and searching for Piper. It doesn’t take long to find her, but I didn’t expect to find her intruding on my own bedroom of all places.

“Wait here for me,” I tell Sharre, waving for him to stand guard by the door. “Make sure no one enters. If someone comes, then knock and call for me.”

“Yes, Miss Greystone.”

It will take some work before he learns proper dignity, but I cannot shame a slave for failing to present themselves as a proper servant.

“Why do you keep pretending that you’re a Lady? A fancy noblewoman?” Piper asks as I enter the room.

“I am a Lady,” I say, glaring at her.

“No,” Piper says, closing one of my favourite books which she has pried from my bedside collection. “The Lady you’re pretending to be is the one from the silly stories in these books you read. They’re lies people tell to children. Real nobles are monsters, but you’re trying to pretend like you’re the proper thing.”

“By hunting and killing people in the night? Feasting on their blood?”

“Not that, the way you act nice but keep your distance. Your face is always so cold. It’s like you’re playing pretend,” she says.

I’m quite sure that she’s already seen that mask shattered before. After she stole my first kiss, I do not believe that I adequately maintained my composure.

“Would you rather me be a monster?” I ask.

“No,” she admits, staring down at her own hands. “Forget I said anything.”

Silence falls between us, as we sit alone in the room. Something draws me closer to her, and I don’t know what part of me is trying to guide my hands as I gently grab her shoulder.

“Shall I heal your ears?” I ask.

Her violet eyes meet mine for a time, taking on a cold conviction as she nods, leaning her head down closer to me.

Her hair hides the wounds most days, but even exposed like this I can only see the strange ear canals that are hidden in a mess of hair. Carefully, I set my fangs against her scalp and press down until I draw blood.

She bleeds quickly, and I swallow all of it while pushing my darkened æther to work. Unlike any other magic, my vampiric magic unravels as if I’ve always known it. It takes on a perfect shape and deepens the darkness around us as the wounds slowly repair.

Flesh regrows around my lips, thin slips of skin, covered in a thin fur, with cartilage hardening beneath. The blood tastes warm on my lips, but not as sweet as it might otherwise be.

As I repair her other ear the same, I find myself drawn in two different directions by alien temptations. I want to push her down and claim her for myself so that no one else can ever have her, but I cannot. She bows to me, she has given her blood, and I cannot harm her so.

“Your tail,” I whisper, and she nods.

She doesn’t hesitate to offer me her back and lower her skirt just enough to see the scar and the small stub covered in ingrown hair.

The sight is… unpleasant. There is no way to do this in a lady-like manner, but it is something I owe her and the others. Other means of healing are limited and have risks of their own given our circumstances.

Temptation curses me again as I taste her blood, but it dies quick. Piper whimpers as I draw her blood and repair her flesh. The sound breaks me from the trance of unkind thoughts.

I clear my mind and focus on the ungainly task at hand. It is dealt with quickly.

We sit silently as Piper touches her new ears and tail. The flesh is repaired and even the hair has regrown to a point where she could be mistaken for any other of her kind in the street.

With her collar gone, and her disfigurement cured, there is no reason that she cannot leave and find a place for herself in the world. She doesn’t need me anymore.

“You’ll still take care of the younger kids?” Piper asks. “The others, they were talking, and some of them don’t want to leave. They’re scared of the world outside. There’s nowhere for them to go.”

The words escape her as if forced, she does not want to say this. She does not want to rely on me like this.

“They can stay here as guests for as long as they need,” I say. “They are due as much and more for the work that they’ve given, and the tortures endured.”

“You don’t care about them,” Piper says biting her lip. “You pretend to with your ‘Lady’ act. You pretend to be a good person, but you don’t actually care.”

The ability to care about such things was stolen from me in the moment of my death. What remains is imitation, an act, a game of pretend. I will not deny the accusation.

“You do care about me,” Piper says, resting a hand on my thigh. Her violet eyes are settled on me, cold with conviction, and not a speck of passion.

“A Lady would not accept such propositions,” I say, standing and stepping closer to the door.

“But you’re not a Lady, you’re a monster pretending,” Piper says. “I’ll do what it takes to make sure that you keep pretending.”

Her tone suggests that she does not believe her own words, but I do not know which ones are the lies. Yet, that temptation pulls at me still, a hunger not unlike my want for blood.

“I would not feign at love,” I say, touching at the doorknob and hesitating. “If… if it could be something that wasn’t pretend…”

A noble should marry a noble, but what does that matter now?

My proposition is met with silence.

I leave before the moment can drag for longer than would be comfortable.

As I close the door behind me, I set my frost magic to work on my insides. If I cannot properly train, then I’ll never be strong enough to catch the red-eyed monster. It’s only proper to train at all times of the day, even should distractions tempt me.

I ought not forget that I am already passed. What farce of a romance story would tell of a frozen corpse falling in love?

No, I do not deserve even that farce.

 

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

 

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