“Blood, inheritance, and the intelligence trained into us, that is what makes us superior to a common man, but it is a debt owed. Our hands are clean, because the commoner toils, our riches are born from the earth that the commoner mines and our intelligence is born in the time offered us by the common servants who clean, cook, and tend to us.

“This is what makes us superior, but it is not what defines us. Our actions must often be cold and calculating, even cruel at times when cruelty can do more good than kindness, but all for the sake of a greater good. Yet, it is only selfish, slovenly nobles that surround me, creatures that do not deserve the respect that they are lent for the titles that they stain in the filth of their lifestyles.

“Every title-bearing traitor that I’ve visited since I’ve begun to court with desperation, has only proven to me that the rest were not taught the manners and self-respect that any noble ought to hold themselves to, and few even attempt to put up appearances. The common man openly derides the actions and indignity of their supposed ‘betters’ and earn only quiet apathy from those who are already well aware.

“If I alone believe that a noble should be proper, should be dignified, and should serve their people from their seats of luxury, then is it the world that is mad, or is it me? I must acknowledge that it is my own mind, my own teachings that fail me.”

“You don’t want to be a noble, miss?” Therina asks, walking alongside me as I tread the dark path of the alleys. Henry is leading us away towards some nobles that he considers, if not proper, at least worthy of my time unlike all those that I could name.

“I want to be a noble as I so very madly define them,” I say. “If anyone else, perhaps except for you, would call me a noble, then I’m sure that it could only be meant as a slur against my name. Not undeserving, mind you, since so many have been made to suffer under the Greystone name. My name.”

“No reason to be falling into self-pity,” Henry calls back at us. “Just gotta do what you can and leave the rest to someone else.”

“I do not believe in pity for myself or otherwise,” I reply. “I just… I do not know who I am anymore. What I am is a monster, I’m sure of that much, but what more can I be from there?”

The two grow silent, as even Therina cannot deny the truth of her own senses. She’s seen the evil that is within me with her own two eyes, and while she might excuse it, she cannot deny it.

I am a monster, now I simply need to learn to live as one.

“What you said, about what a noble ought to be,” Therina says. “It is something admirable. Something beautiful.”

“Then at least the beautiful lies can lend us comfort,” I say.

At the end of last evening, I struck upon new power, and have unleashed new monstrous potential from my new nature.

Bypassing the need for training, my magics have been further enhanced. What I had thought might be new spells are instead improvements on what was already granted by my rebirth.

Vampire’s Recovery: D- Rank

-Heal your own wounds or the wounds which you drink from. Enhanced speed of your healing.

Vampire’s Strength: D- Rank

-Express significantly greater physical strength. You temporarily gain the physical strength of your victim.

Illusion Magic: E Rank

-Make lies appear as if true. More complex and lasting magic is possible.

All this is new power that I will need in the coming days, and I can only be grateful that the criminal was able to grant me the last drops of blood to reach this.

As I tread on harder ground, I’m drawn from my reverie. We have arrived at our destination.

“Rory, my favourite killer, how have you been holding up? Everything good for you here?” Henry approaches the guard of the small house, finer than what most commoners might dream of but lowly even for a knight, which is just who we’re here to meet.

There is little enough fuss as the two men jostle one another in some strange act of comradery, and in short enough time Henry leads us into the house. There is no servant here to greet us apart from the guard who stays at the door.

“I’m in the lounge,” calls the homeowner, as we enter. There is not much of a foyer, but as much is to be expected of a normal home.

The place can hardly be considered the residence of a noble, even of a Knight’s rank, but the man doesn’t seem put out by the plain and worn furniture. He relaxes languidly on one of the couches, the threadbare clothes not quite enough to cover his muscled form, and the dark æther veins running throughout his visible skin.

The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

There is no denying this man his strength, yet I can feel no aura around him. Most people this powerful stretch their magic every moment they spend awake and it can be felt in some nature of aura, like my subtle but noticeable frost aura.

Yet, the reason for the lacking aura is clear.

A massive suit of armour fills one end of the room made from layers of thick plates that together must weigh more than a tonne. Enchantments cover the suit, and more than a few of them exist simply for the sake of maintaining the integrity of an amour that would otherwise crumble in on itself.

A body-strengthening knight then, quite the monster when properly equipped.

“Ah, so this is the lady you wanted me to meet?” The young knight asks, turning to face us. “I hope this isn’t about a marriage or any nonsense.”

“While a potential marriage plays a part in the schemes that I must oppose, I can assure you that I have no intention of instigating any marriage proposal with you.”

“Too ugly, am I?” The young man asks marking his page in his book and setting it aside.

Standing at full height, he smiles down at me. He’s certainly a fine specimen, but there’s nothing to him that seems attractive in any meaningful way. It’s like seeing a well-bred dog, you can see that it’s beautiful and the patterns in its fur are certainly pleasant to the eye, but it’s a completely different thing to find it attractive.

“I’m Countess Christina Greystone, though the title is currently in dispute. I’m here to ask your services as a knight, not as a male,” I say firmly.

“That so?” He replies, “I’m Nick Torf, knighted not that the title has seen much use in the last decade. So, what do you want a retired knight’s services for?”

“My family was lost in an… incident, not one week ago. My uncle has taken this as an opportunity to take this title from me by marrying me off to my cousin and taking the role of regent.”

“Ah, noble politics,” he grunts in amusement. “You want help in disappearing?”

“Disappearing? No, I want assistance in retaking my title, estate and all,” I reply. “I could complain to the royals, or another Count or Duke, but without the respect of any knights, I fear I’d be cast out and sent back to my uncle, or used in other schemes. Uncle has gained the favour of too many ill-natured nobles for me to stand against him.”

“Well, that sounds like a lot of not-my-problem,” Nick replies, resting back on his couch and lifting the book from where he marked his page.

“I… understand that it would overly trouble you,” I say. “I’m not intending to demand your service or any such thing. I just… I…”

What am I here for?

If there are so few Barons and Viscounts that still respect the proper ways, then what could a single loyal knight ever achieve? Even a dozen would not be enough to resolve this issue in total, it could regain me my proper title, but nothing else.

“I suggest you give up on the noble life,” Nick says, not looking up from his book. “There are plenty of places where a smart young woman could make a life for herself in this world. Leave this city behind, find a quiet town and apprentice to a merchant, or whatever pleases you.”

“I… I have responsibilities that I must see to,” I say, but my mind is already racing to try and understand what exactly he has suggested.

I can just leave? That’s an option?

I can run away, join a merchant caravan and make a life for myself as a commoner?

My stomach drops at the idea of it, but I can see no fault to the logic. It is an option that I hadn’t truly considered possible.

“Then, steal what you can from the family coffers before you disappear, maybe air the family’s dirty laundry, or give the keys of the house to a gang of thieves. That should be enough for everyone to forget all those pesky responsibilities.”

“If I want to repair my home and retain my title?” I ask.

“It’s easier to destroy than create,” Nick replies. “If you can’t figure out a plan of your own, then it’s probably best just to take my idea and run with it.”

“I… I can’t,” I reply. “I should be rebuilding this city, fixing everything that my father failed to. It’s my responsibility as his daughter.”

“The sins of the dead parent should be left in the grave,” Nick says. “I won’t tell you what to do, but there is something I heard a young scrounger in the streets tell me that never quite left me. ‘The kindest noble is the one that forgets the rest of us exist.’ Even as a countess, the best you can do for the common man is nothing at all.”

In the silence, Therina looks towards me with an eagerly expectant gaze, as if there’s something that I could say to refute the man’s words. Yet, the words that come to mind pause in my throat. The ideas I can use to refute the man come from my tutors, not experience, and I’ve already learned how limited that education is.

This man, a young but retired knight, doesn’t even offer tea or refreshments, he sits on his couch reading his book and pretending that I’m already gone. There is nothing noble about him, but his strange wisdom alone has more heart and meaning than anything the rest of the nobles I’ve crossed have offered me thus far.

So, he asks me why I seek my title?

What can I do as a Countess that I cannot as I am now?

Even a countess cannot deliver justice to the lesser nobles that do wrong as that is still the purview of the reeves, and I have no power over them.

I can take taxes and spend them to have the city rebuilt at the very least, but can I achieve anything from it? The merchant I spoke with the other day didn’t seem intent to fix his home for fear of increased taxes. The barons and viscounts are all too interested in filling their own pockets at the expense of the city as a whole.

Without loyal barons and viscounts, trying to fix anything would be like trying to fill a bucket with a dozen holes in its bottom. Seeking to replace or correct the lesser nobles is a task for royalty, and at that point, it would be easier to start my own kingdom.

A task I am ill-suited to.

“I’ll take my leave then. Thank you for having me.” I stand to leave the knight to his reading, Henry’s steps seem to bounce as he leads us out, the smile on his lips telling of his opinion. He thinks me foolish for pretending to retain my noble blood even through all this trouble.

“Come back by if you need help with the disappearing,” Nick says, not lifting his eyes from the book in his hand. “I have a few friends in low places that could help.”

“May we meet again in less trying circumstances,” I say, taking my leave.

Not only am I a monster, but it seems this charade of nobility is nothing but a lie.

What am I?

Who am I?

Henry returns me home, the streets rather quiet so long as he’s with me, and in the darkness afforded me by the slave’s hovel, I hide, and I think.

“Am I truly still a noble? Or am I nothing more than a monster imposing on this world?” I ask Piper as she sits beside me, troubled by her own thoughts, no doubt.

“Both,” She replies in a quiet hiss. “From the very moment you were born to noble blood, you were made to be both.”