I stand by the buffet, set with the retched corpses of birds, and pigs, and cows, and stranger beasts still. The foods are then adorned with various seeds and fruits, things meant to sew new life are being consumed before they can know their true purpose. I know something of a tradition for a chicken to be coated in the eggs that it has lain on the day of its slaughter, but it is hardly the only example of this depravity.

Corpses are dressed in children never to be realized, properly adorned and cooked to perfection with undeniable artistry layered through the flavours and presentation both. Even the one meal, with three birds, one forced inside the other, inside the other, is presented so very carefully to seem almost beautiful.

No one here recognises the suffering put on display; they would not care even if they saw it. Every meal contains some measure of suffering to it, and humanity has never had any shame in making it into something beautiful.

So why should I feel shame for doing the same?

I sip at a glass of wine, deliciously blended with the fresh blood that I’ve harvested from my most recent hunt. The works of my hands cannot compare to what these master chefs have created for this noble ball, it will take decades, if not centuries, for me to make any meals that might compare.

Blinking lazily as the flavours rush through me, burning up inside of my veins, my eyes turn towards Aldramodore where he casually speaks with the highest nobles of the land. Today he’s chosen to lower himself to our level.

Memories burn to life, as I watch him pretend to smile. All my senses come alive in remembrance of the night in which I was the meal. Yet the sweet flavour on my tongue still lingers, as I watch my sire sloppily preparing his own small feast.

The way he prepares my father, hanging his body over the dinner table so that we might anticipate our own fates while watching him die, it is done with a practised hand but still lacking in something. It is not done with the care such an occasion deserves. It is as if a master at his craft carelessly and mindlessly butchers their work, a smith selling an unpolished sword, or a chef failing to add spices to a roast.

The resulting disaster was still something greater than I can create, but it bothers me that he was so dispassionate about it. It irks me that we were so carelessly consumed, not treated as some noble pleasure let linger on the tongue and memory, but torn apart and soon forgot. Not a buffet at a noble event, but the rough stew thrown together for soldiers using whatever is at hand while on march.

“If you want nothing to do with me, fine, but can you stop glaring at me?” Aldramodore grunts as he stands before me, pulling me back from my memories.

I meet his eyes, saying nothing. I had thought him some final villain in my failure of a fairy tale, and I still do intend for him to fit that role, but he does not see me in the same light. He stands before me seeing himself as some quasi-father figure, frustrated at his bothersome child.

How grotesque. Another layer to the cruel torture that he has inflicted upon me.

“I have something I must discuss with you,” I say, finishing my drink and letting a server take it away. “I wish for certain lands to be granted to nobles of my choosing, is that something that can be arranged?”

Our voices are suppressed by some magic that he summons, something not uncommon for nobles.

“What a fine greeting,” he laments, glancing down at me only briefly before turning to face the wide room, standing by my side. The small seed of faith burning inside my chest flares up while I stand by his side.

“What god are you flirting with now?”

“Shialla.”

He makes no effort to disguise his frown. Evidence of his power here.

“I’ve been using her power to keep my meals from coming back to haunt me, reflux of the nastiest sort that,” I explain, recalling how my last hunt ended. “Though, that’s not important to our current conversation. I need the king to grant titles for the unclaimed lands between here and the great eastern mountain ranges.”

“What for, and how does this serve the Kingdom?”

“How does this serve you and your pet project, breeding your little royal pets, you mean?” I ask, shaking my head as he glowers at me. “The lands that way are far too uncivilised. The roads are not safe, therefore not maintained. I intend to change those conditions, I would appreciate funding, but so long as I can have those lands awarded to the right nobles, funding can be found.”

“What inspired this?” he asks, glancing down at me, his frown softening but not disappearing. “Aren’t you meant to be running from me?”

“I will be escaping you when I can, staying in this city would stifle my growth.”

He grunts, without committing to a proper reply.

“You’re not going to stop me?”

“You’re trying my patience,” he growls. “But sometimes it can be good to try a new angle. Maybe you’ll thrive better without me hanging over you, and you’re already different from the others. Maybe you won’t go insane.”

“No,” I shake my head, glancing at the buffet table. “I suspect that my proper sanity died with my humanity, but then, I’m not any more insane than the rest of this strange world, am I?”

“So, why?” He asks, his eyes peering through me. Is he already aware of what I’m doing and why and only looking to see how I’ll respond? I don’t imagine that my efforts are all that difficult to see through.

“I wish to protect the people that are fleeing this city. The general mismanagement of this kingdom, and your attempts to slaughter a portion of it, have caused issues. It is a pain to my pride to leave the situation as it is, especially while I hold a noble title.”

The more truthful explanation is much simpler; I cannot bear to see so many undeserving people suffer as these people are. I suspect that Aldramodore would be unhappy to hear that, however.

“You want to save them?”

“Do you not flinch watching a sword intentionally snapped before your eyes? Seeing a beautiful cake crushed underfoot? Or… fresh blood spilled wastefully into a river?” I raise a brow as I ask. My throat tightens instinctively as I see the monster, flinching at my own memories. “Tens of thousands of people, many with valuable skills and magic, are being left to die because there are no leaders able and willing to make use of them.

“I do not have a need for them myself; not today at least, yet… Do you leave a sword to rust through, because you haven’t been to war in a few years?”

“I have my own plans for them, but… those plans work better if some survive,” Aldramodore says, rubbing at his chin as he looks up at the ceiling.

“Explain.”

He stares at me for a few seconds before a smirk rises on his lips, and he gives me his answer.

“You’ve helped spread the secrets that I’ve worked very hard to keep. Our weaknesses are laid bare for the world to know, and that’s not acceptable.”

“You can’t kill them all.” I pause, meeting his eyes and seeing only cold determination.

“I could, but it would be more trouble than it’s worth. No, I will hide the truth under a mountain of lies and deceit,” he says. “The people who have left this city will see monsters the likes of which will haunt this kingdom for centuries, but not one vampire. They will not talk of us, or the sunlight, or fire. They will have other things to worry about.”

I force down the turmoil in my heart and let my noble training take over.

“Some will survive?”

“That depends on you, doesn’t it?” He smiles but I don’t even let a frown touch my own lips. “You’re a strange one. You’re adapting too easily.”

“How do you mean?”

“You’re not insane. You’re twisted enough to thrive as a vampire, where most of my children need to be slowly brought around. And now, I’ve told you that these people will die because of what you’ve done, spreading our secrets, and you don’t even flinch.”

“Thank you for the compliment.”

His attention lingers on me for a few long seconds while I pretend not to care, gazing into the crowd and settling my eyes on one noble mistreating a rare breed of slave. Perhaps I should hunt that noble first? But how best to go about it? To make him linger on the edge of losing his sanity, sweetening his blood.

“I still remember what you’ve done to me,” I tell my murderer.

“My gift. Eternal life. You will be glad for it one day.”

“It was never a gift, a gift requires you to intend it as such,” I shake my head, he’s already winding up to a lecture but I stop him short. “There is no need to explain yourself, I understand it well enough. It was for politics, and it was to satisfy your hunger. There is no more reason needed.

“I do not intend to discuss the ethics of what you have done, nor would I wish to compare it to my own hunts. No, this is simpler than any of that. You killed me and my family, and you can be glad that I was raised well as a noble because without that training I would either be a blubbering mess on the floor or lashing out violently right at this moment.”

“I am aware that my youngest children are affected by these feelings.” He crosses his arms over his chest, as he glances down at me. “In time you will overcome them, I thought… No, I expected too much of you. Fine, you’re adapting well, I’ll gamble on your ability to overcome your limits.”

“So, are you able to assist me with my project?” I turn my head with cold and measured care to show none of the anxiety writhing in my guts.

“Conditionally.” His attention burns into me, my faith in Shialla and her values is the only reason I can stand under the weight. Hers is a promise that I have an escape in even the worst of situations.

“There are undiscovered æther wells out that direction, I want them found, discretely.”

“What for?”

He keeps his silence, the only answer I can expect, it seems.

“You trust Semi and her people?” I ask. “Perhaps it would be good to have her run a bounty on these sites? She’ll be sending out thugs to gain influence among the towns that we’re building.”

“That would be agreeable,” he nods firmly. “I’ll leave it to you to see it done.”

It would all be rather simple for him to achieve this without me. A simple conversation with Semi would be enough. So, this must be another test? Or maybe, a chance for me to learn and grow?

“I will have a list of names prepared, alongside the lands to be awarded to them. Is that our business done, then? I do not know how exactly to phrase this, but I cannot bear to be in your company for much longer.”

“You will learn respect, Christina,” he whispers, his eyes glowing as he reaches out to me with his magic. It’s instinctual, animalistic in its simplicity. For a heartbeat, I return to the powerless girl I was as his fangs sink into me.

He releases his magic without forcing any changes in me.

“Perhaps given time,” I admit. “Not today, however. Today, I still live in that memory of you murdering me. How could you ask me to respect my murderer?”

He shakes his head dismissively but doesn’t harass me further.

I’m stretching his patience, and I do not want to know what happens if I push him.

Biting my tongue, I let the shame wash through me.

The person I wish to become, wouldn’t let herself lose control. Not even in this situation.

My brain burns with a terrible fire that cannot be extinguished, and it’s only the tight grip on my strange new divine magic that helps me to keep my façade of calm now that the rest of me is crumbling.

“If your friend keeps glaring at me like that, I’m going to kill her,” Aldramodore says, turning his gaze towards Belle who stands across the room from us. She pales and turns away when she notices our attention.

“I’ll do something about her,” I whisper, knowing that he can hear.

He says nothing more, leaving me be and I waste no time, rushing to Belle.

Keeping my calm in the face of her panic, it’s obvious that she understands her mistake.

“Belle, if you were so determined to die, then you could have told me,” I keep my tone pleasant, friendly, and downright saccharine. “I would rather you let me be the one to take your life if you are to throw yourself at Aldramodore like that.”

“Sorry,” she whispers, her eyes widening as her faith pulses, burning at my skin. “But-”

“Belle,” I cut her short. “I am being serious. If you are going to pursue Aldramodore like this, then I will kill you myself. At least, that way I can ensure that your soul passes on safely.”

“Kyra…” She twists her lips into an unpleasant frown. For her, it comes from a lack of proper noble care.

“I won’t let him have you,” I say resting a hand on her cheek and staring into her eyes considering how to kill someone kindly.