Lingering cravings poison my mind, distracting me from all the things that I must be doing this evening. It is a fine chance to get to know the people that I must work with, how they think, what they desire and all the other things that I must know if I’m to manipulate them towards my own goals.

I take a pause to consider myself clearly. If this sadism within me is not a part of the immortal curse, and truly a part of me, then it should be simple enough to understand it, no?

When have I been without these terrible thoughts? It is difficult to think of any time in particular, but it would seem that I must pay more attention in the future.

A small gathering of young noblemen and ladies gather to me, seeing that the intimidating presence of my sire, my monster, and my villain, is now gone. Simply conversing with him has granted me legitimacy that I’ve been without until now, was that his intention, or was he simply unconcerned? Does it even matter?

“Countess Greystone, it is a pleasure to have you here this evening,” the young lord, the younger son of the hosts, introduces himself with a fine smile. He is merely the first, but he quickly introduces others that could be variably considered either friends or allies before fading back, having served his role.

I’ve not had much experience speaking with this many people at once, and before long I’m struggling to keep up with it all. The most significant note that I take has nothing to do with the words themselves, they all show respect to the young Lady Goldfield, who shamelessly keeps a young man as a slave.

He is not human, of course, human slaves would be easy enough to find and would have to be exceedingly talented in some way for a noble like her to wish to show them off. Perhaps my impression is limited by lacking experience in the noble court, but I have not seen anything to prove me wrong in this so far.

“Lady Greystone,” Goldfield says to me, instantly silencing the others. “I would rather we refer to one another by first names while we’re not dealing with stuffy events.”

“Of course, Pansy,” I say, recalling her name is simple enough, but it brings a smile to her lips. Flashes of another setting, take over my senses. She’s bound in chains, screaming, bleeding. I suppress the vision.

“Christina, I’d be glad to host you at my estate if it would be to your satisfaction, it would certainly make for a more comfortable setting than this. Oh, I would love to introduce you to my menagerie,” she waves at her slave, highlighting his feathered wings which seem rather clumsy to my eyes. “They are much more exotic than anything you’ll find among our peers.”

“That sounds quite lovely,” I lie. “I’ll await your invitation, but I must warn you that I will soon be very busy working on important projects.”

“Not to worry, our seniors might prefer to work in terms of months and years, but we must appreciate the days and weeks,” she smiles. “You especially seem to have changed significantly even from the last time that I’ve seen you.”

“Oh, is that so?”

“It is true. It’s as if you’ve finally found your own pace. I’d thought that you were changed even then, but you’ve gone and grown further,” she lifts her lips in the softest of smiles. “It would almost be enough to make me jealous, but I am not so uncouth as to be jealous of my friends.”

“Christina,” Lady Shari rushes to my side, interrupting us. The familiar woman proved that I could rely upon her, introducing me to Belle and helping me with my early schemes. “This is where you’ve been.”

“Yes, I’ve been busy acquainting myself with our peers, I’ve been kept away from all this for so long that I must admit I’ve felt a fish out of water here. Of course, the pleasant company has made my acclimatisation more comfortable.”

Words flow as if on their own, I speak phrases that I’ve thought up in my fantasies when I was kept in the estate with my books, adapting to fit the scene around me. I’m not quite sure what I’m saying or doing, or if it’s wrong or right, but Shari’s sudden appearance allows me a chance to rest my mind.

Facing my own monster in the early evening has somewhat lessened the impact of anything else that this evening can bring to me. Though, struggling to force down the deep hunger only makes this entire charade more troubling for me. I take a glass of wine from a passing waiter just so that the foul flavours might combat my thirst.

Turning my mind to more important matters, I ignore the other nobles fussing about this and that.

When the night has drawn to a close, I leave the ball with Belle by my side. The girl still bothered by what we spoke of earlier.

“Would you really kill me?” She asks, as we step out into my personal carriage. The familiar guards offer some comfort that I couldn’t find in the company of strangers.

“If it was the best option for us both, then yes. I would overcome great hesitation and do so only under the most troubling of circumstances, but that is where you nearly brought us tonight,” I keep eye contact with her not letting her go. “We live today because he permits us to.”

We’ve yet to see even a fraction of the monster’s strength, and even so, I know that we cannot survive crossing him. That does not mean that I must submit to him, either, but we must tread carefully.

“Are you sure he’s that strong?” Belle asks. “If all the knights fought him together.”

“They would kill him,” I admit without any hesitation. “We’ve already spoken of this, Belle. That situation would never come about. He is here because he knows it would not happen. That is his true power, Belle. Not his ability to survive even terrible power. Not his strength, able to battle knights, I’m sure. He is in control, Belle. The royals, nobles, and knights are his. The moment they’re not, he’ll kill them as he’s done to my family.”

Belle curls up on the bench, pulling at her hair with both hands and undoing the great work of her maid. She shakes her head the smile on her lips a twisted mirage of determination and doubt, before finally becoming filled with such fervour that I cannot suppress a small flinch.

“We’ll defeat him, Tina,” she says, her faith burning away at me. “He has some weakness, even the dragons died. We can do this. We can defeat one man.”

My mind turns back to the day we met, and though troubled, she wasn’t like this. Has my company been a terrible influence on her? Is it her relationship with Merry, and her own blooming faith? I don’t know, but I don’t understand her anymore, and I wish that she could turn away from the direction she’s heading.

“Aldramodore’s weakness… He can’t survive a blast of fire to the heart,” I whisper the thought hesitantly, staring down at the floor. “I know what I saw when Lysis struck him, but I am equally as sure that it’s impossible. There was some trick at play, or… a deception, maybe. I’m not sure. Our very æther should react violently to fire, and if he was truly struck through the heart as I saw…”

“He’s a liar,” Belle nods eagerly. “We have to figure out the lie.”

“Bring me a plan, not even for his death, but to get away with that secret, and so long as it doesn’t end in our deaths, I’ll be forced to recognise you as a new Saint,” I shake my head, dismissing her fantasies. “For now, we do what we can for those we can.”

Belle deflates hearing those words, refusing to look me in the eyes. I haven’t seen her so dour in… ever. How much of her did I ever truly understand?

“Is something wrong?”

“I… I couldn’t do anything,” she admits. “I couldn’t get any nobles to give us money. I couldn’t figure out anything. I want to help, but what should I do?” She chokes up as she says it. “I keep thinking in circles but I don’t know how to help anyone.”

“Belle…” I pause, letting the sound hang for a time while I consider her problem. “You’re a warrior. A Paladin. You use your faith to fight against monsters, would I be right in assuming that you aren’t very good at dealing with our noble peers?”

She nods weakly.

“Then, don’t. Your strength is needed elsewhere,” I say. “You would be fighting against Aldramodore’s schemes and saving people in need. You would be protecting the people as a knight should. Don’t get lost in noble schemes, it is not your place in this world.”

“Then what do I do?”

“As we’ve anticipated, Aldramodore is not satisfied with the pain he’s already caused. The road east is soon to be beset by… I’m not entirely certain what, however, the villain himself had concerns that he might, by accident, leave so many dead that there will not be any proper witnesses to the crime.”

She sits up straight, looking me in the eyes and gripping at a knife hidden in her dress.

“I’m doing what I can here to ensure that they have a destination, food, tools, and support, but that means nothing if there is no one left alive to make use of them. Perhaps you can defuse his plans where I cannot.”

She nods, looking about the windows.

“I need to go to-”

“Your religious friends? We are going there now,” I say. “I wish to speak with Merry myself. Pressing issues separate to this.”

“More things trying to kill us?” She asks, shivering before a small smile creeps up on her lips. “Or, are you going to talk with him properly about yourself?”

“Nothing you need to be concerned about. I simply wish for some perspective on my own thoughts and feelings. I am not intending to join… whatever it is you are building.”

“You can talk to me,” Belle offers, sitting on the edge of her seat and crossing a little too close to me.

“I appreciate the thought.”

The carriage comes to a stop, blessing me with fine timing.

I disembark with Therina’s assistance, the maid silent and dutiful, and carefully navigate the winding mess of slums and ruins that Merry has taken as his gang’s hideout. The underground cellars cleared and joined together make for quite a decent home compared to what can be found aboveground.

Belle stays with me only so long before rushing away to speak with a few other friends of hers. Not all are as strangely passionate as she is, but they are not responding to her in any negative way, and seem genuinely friendly from what I overhear.

Merry is not far off, and thankfully at the sight of me, he quickly sets aside what he was doing.

“Christina, it is good to see you again. Is there a reason that you’ve come here? Your message was vague.”

“Do you have a moment to talk?” I ask, my distracted mind turning to thoughts of torture, the same way that I would once think of cakes and other sweets during my studies. Over the last weeks, I’ve been experiencing this more and more but in the past few days I have discovered an unusual comfort with the monstrous aspects of myself. Thoughts of torture no longer worry me as they once did.

I do not know how concerned I should be about that lack of concern.

“Follow me,” he says, nodding before leading me away to a cell not at all unlike what we found Lysis in after he was taken hostage. Am I to be cured in the same way? Am I to be twisted into something different, as he was? Is that what I want for myself?

No. And I will not permit it.

That aside, if I am to change myself to my own desired image, then I could not go wrong in gaining perspective. That is all this is.

“What do you want to discuss?” Merry shows no shame of his own twisted face, and his expression is far more pleasant than should be possible. Stranger still, I find myself at ease.

He will not judge me cruelly. He will not share secrets that should be kept. He is the one person in this strange world, that I know I can speak with in perfect honesty, and expect only honesty in return.

“I have been having thoughts, recently. Ever since I was changed. A desire to hurt people, to make them suffer,” I explain as coldly as I can. “I suspected at first that it was due to the curse in me, as I certainly find their blood appetising because of that change, but now… I believe this aspect of it may not be accurately blamed on the curse alone. I have been made to suspect that this cruelty in me is simply a part of who I am.

“I don’t understand it. Why haven’t I had these impulses before now? What should I do about them?”

Merry nods slowly, sitting on the hard stone floor without saying anything for a moment. I stand across from him, leaning against the wall. It will dirty my dress, but what does that matter now?

“I cannot give you your truth, but I can tell you the things that I’ve heard from others and things that I’ve seen for myself. Before that, I will ask you one thing, as your own story is more important than anything I can hope to say.

“When did these thoughts and feelings begin?”

“When I died. When I was given my immortal curse,” I explain.

“Is that all?” He asks, looking up into my eyes. “Did nothing else happen that night?”

The moment flashes before me as it so often does.

The red-eyed monster playing with us, toying with us, torturing us. Chains made of shadow bind me, blood drips before my eyes the sound of its dripping hidden beneath the screams.

“Painful memories,” Merry says, a sad smile twisting his face further. “They will often affect us more than we think they do. Sometimes in ways that don’t seem to make sense. I can tell you stories of others who have, found themselves thinking strange, and awful thoughts after they’ve suffered great tragedy.

“Maybe you’ll find them familiar, perhaps not.”