Belle is pronounced bell, like the instrument which is known more for its use in signalling the time than in any musical piece. It suits her well for the practical nature that the two share. I’ve seen no noble dignity to her in the short time since we’ve met, though her casual attitude does have a certain charm that I’ve come to associate with the common class.

Her actual namesake, however, is the mythical saint Belle, slayer of the last dragons. No one knows how true the story is, and the saint is as often portrayed as a woman as it is a man. It’s difficult to believe any of it, but as it’s commonly said, a legend is more than truth, and the girl before me seems the type to be inspired by such stories.

“So, this marriage thing,” she starts rather awkwardly, before bravely pressing on regardless of her discomfort. “To be honest with you, I hate the idea. I hate the idea of marriage and everything that comes with it, but I’m not smart enough to know any other way out of this.”

She meets my eyes, but her hands form fists by her side as if to ready herself to fight her way through her problems. What effort it must take for her to restrain herself.

“Is my charm lacking, or is there something else about the proposed marriage that bothers you?” I ask, the nature of the royal pursuing her is certainly a problem, but her issues with marriage are more immediate in my eyes. We will get nowhere if our intentions don’t line up.

“I just… I’m not…” She struggles with her words and pauses to consider. I don’t pressure her, taking in the state of the room as I wait.

Thankfully our request for privacy has offered us a room away from the sun and no one questions as Therina rushes about to close the curtains for me. My skin was already starting to sizzle by the time we came inside, but the darkness has returned me to the picture of health.

“I don’t want it,” Belle declares firmly. “I don’t want to be bound down by another person, and that’s all marriage seems like to me. I’ve never really felt love like other people, I mean I appreciate my parents and all that, but I just don’t want to tie myself up with someone because I’m expected to.”

“Perhaps you’ll change your mind?” I ask, curiously considering her. I’ve not thought overmuch of the topic before, but I suppose there is no avoiding it now. “If we were to become bound by vows, you might lose the chance to seek out another partner.”

“I don’t think that’s going to be an issue,” Belle says, heaving a sigh. “If we go through with this, I just want you to know that I’ll never actually love you or anything, not romantically. It’ll be a fake marriage, whether we quit the engagement or stay together.”

I can’t help but feel that it’s something of a shame, she might be crass but she is quite pretty, and I can see why someone would be pursuing her. A wave of disappointment washes through me, pulling the edges of my lips down.

Why should I feel disappointment? Was I wanting her affections?

No, a monster doesn’t need or want for love, it’s merely a lingering attachment to a life I no longer have. It’s only natural that I’m disappointed that my marriage isn’t for love, but for corrupted political manoeuvrings.

“Well, I have no other arrangements for marriage at this moment,” I say. “A long engagement with you, forming a dead branch marriage, would delay my uncle’s schemes. The fact he can still have my cousin set up as the heir to my title should keep him from acting too outrageously.”

“It would give me some protection against the prince, too,” Belle says, nodding quickly but without releasing her frown. “It’s a good plan, certainly, it’s just I hate this sort of thing.”

“As nobles, we ought to be more dignified than this,” I admit, lowering my eyes and slouching so very slightly to express my disappointment in these affairs. “These schemes are… they are indicative of the corruption that’s taken hold in our kingdom.”

“You see it too?” Belle asks, her eyes opening wide. “It’s so frustrating and the others just don’t want to talk about it, or they think that everything’s still okay. They refuse to look out at the streets and see everything that’s going on with the commoners.

“We aren’t rebuilding after the war, more and more of the traders are moving south out of the Kingdom, and there are criminal groups taking control of half the city. Most knights don’t care, either preparing for the next war with the north or taking over the gangs to rule for themselves.

“It’s just so frustrating!”

The words burst out of her in a flood, expressing thoughts that have been stewing inside for far too long. She’s breathing heavily by the end of her speech, and her hair has become dishevelled from how she’s tossed about her head in her rantings.

“It sounds as if you’re more aware of the issues than I,” I admit. “I’ve walked the streets and seen things firsthand, but I must admit that I’m not confident in understanding it all. The commoners are suffering from poor noble leadership, and they’re being taxed for every coin that can be squeezed from them. They see no reason to succeed and hold themselves back to avoid attention.

“Then there are my slaves,” I add in a whisper.

“You, a daughter of a count, are walking the streets of the common man?” Belle asks, her mouth hanging wide. “Not just looking out of the carriage window, but walking the streets yourself…?”

“Quite so,” I nod, burying the frustration at her disbelief. She is quite right in doubting me, considering the circumstances that had to come about before I was forced to interact with commoners. “I can’t trust my uncle or his servants, so to get around I’ve been using my own two feet. It’s how I arrived here, as a matter of fact.”

“Right, your situation…” she bites her lip, clearly loathe to ask directly but curious no less.

“Killed by a monster of the night,” I tell her directly. “You wanted to know what happened to my family? They were killed to the last, only one servant boy survived the attack.”

“Killed by a monster?” She asks.

“I would consider it a monster, yes.” If I am a monster, then surely the red-eyed man is one too. A greater monster than I am, by any degree. “The reeves are still hunting the man.”

This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

“The man? I thought you said it was a monster?”

“I’ve come to learn in recent days that monsters often take the shape of people,” I say meeting her eyes and crossing my arms. “You can be sitting in what you think to be polite company, enjoying a pleasant tea in the afternoon, and find that you’ve been in the company of monsters all along.

“Tell me,” I add before she can continue with the topic. “What are your thoughts on justice?”

“Justice?” She asks, “You’re talking about the reeves?”

“I’m talking about justice.” I push a little power through my eyes to give the statement the weight it deserves, but only for a moment. “The reeves, while they are meant to be responsible for upholding justice, are corrupt, as I’m sure you already know. So then, where might justice be found, when those who uphold it are themselves, criminals?”

“It doesn’t exist,” Belle says, crossing her arms. Her voice has deepened an octave as she considers me with suspicion. I think the touch of fear from my gaze has unsettled her more than intended.

“A concept like justice cannot simply disappear, it will always exist even when it cannot be found,” I declare. “Do you think that an individual, without any divine rights to do so, can act out justice? Do you think that an unlawful and violent act committed for the good of the people, can be considered justice?”

“I haven’t done anything if that’s what you’re trying to say,” Belle says, holding up her hands. “Could you just say it straight instead of doing all this noble ‘talking around the point’ twaddle?”

“If you tie yourself with me, you will be putting yourself at risk,” I say. “There are things about me, that I am hesitant to share, but are important for you to understand. I would not want you to tie yourself to me while ignorant of what it truly means to do so.”

“And what does it mean?” Belle asks, I can hear with terrible clarity the slow motion of her throat as she swallows, the twitching in her eyes as she tries to measure my every move and the subtle change in her stance.

“If a noble household takes people from the streets and tortures them for entertainment, or a knight stalks the streets as just another thug bullying the commoners for their coins, would it be wrong to… make them go away?” I ask. “Would you be willing to turn the other way to such incidents?”

“That… that happened?” She asks, her brow creasing in confusion as she lowers her guard a measure. “Are you supporting a vigilante group or something?”

“Would you turn the other way?” I ask once more, refusing to admit to anything more until she gives me this one thing.

“I… I might be tempted to join,” Belle says, smiling awkwardly again. “If they’re actually doing good, I mean. If it’s just another violent gang taking territory, or something else like that, I wouldn’t support it, but I guess I could ignore it. It’s not like the reeves care about what the criminals are up to anyway.”

“You might be willing to join?” I ask, trying to contain my surprise and failing.

“Only if they’re doing real justice,” Belle declares, smiling excitedly as she looks into the distance, her fanciful imagination taking hold of her. “I mean, it’s a crazy idea, but it’s the sort of thing that you’d hear about in stories. At least in the stories that you can hear from the commoners.”

She uses the same terms, but the more I listen the more I can feel the difference in how she expresses the terms ‘commoner’ and ‘noble’. Her use of the term ‘noble’ isn’t filled with as much vitriol as with Piper who sees us as villains, but it is still very cold. When she speaks of commoners or the common man, she does so with a familiar warmth that I don’t hear very often from among our own class.

Her blood is that of a noble, and through it, she is oath-bound to rule over the commoners, but she doesn’t see it that way. If I hadn’t been confronted by as many corrupted nobles, I’d likely think poorly of her, but instead, I find her open and casual demeanour to be refreshing.

“I’m not too sure about taking you with me on my hunts, but I suppose that’s good enough confirmation of your values. No, better than good enough,” I say, letting my tense muscles relax. “Then I will be less coy about this.

“I have murdered a small noble family, as well as a knight and his gang of thugs,” I say it plainly as I can. “They were as I described them before.”

Belle blinks, her smile widening but twitching in vague disbelief and amazement. Her hands reach up as she pulls at her long hair.

“You did that?” She asks, “You’re leading these vigilantes?”

“I did it, but largely on my own,” I say. “I was rescued by a mercenary that I released from the noble family’s captivity, but by and large I have been personally responsible for these murders.”

“Why…?” Belle asks, “How? You’re just… were they responsible for what happened to your family?”

“No.” I shake my head. “But they were deserving of their fates, regardless of any personal slights against my name.”

“That’s amazing!” Belle says, leaping up close to me. “You’re out there hunting the bad guys all by yourself? I thought you were just like a noble girl or something, but that’s so cool!”

“I am gruesome, violent, and monstrous,” I say, clearly enough that she cannot misunderstand. “If you are willing to tie your fate to mine, you must understand who and what I am, then perhaps we can give this forgery of a marriage a chance?”

“You’ll have to prove it to me,” Belle says. “So, I know you’re not lying about this.”

“It will be too dangerous,” I say, shaking my head. “I’ve almost been killed each time I’ve gone out, and my powers are limited.”

“Even more reason to bring me along,” Belle insists.

“You don’t understand,” I say, shaking my head. “It is an unpleasant thing that I do.”

“My parents fight with the knights, I know violence,” she insists.

I calm down before I start throwing out words without thinking them through properly.

“I hunt with justice in mind, but it’s not for the sake of justice,” I say. “I hunt because I am a monster.”

“You’re being dramatic,” Belle laughs at me.

“Do you remember what I said earlier?” I ask. “When my family was murdered, only a single servant boy survived.”

“Right?” She nods, tilting her head in confusion.

“Everyone died,” I say the words slowly, reaching out for her hand. She shudders as she feels how cold I am. I press her hand to my chest so that she can feel the stillness of my heart.

“We all died that evening,” I say, “I simply didn’t stay that way. I kept moving, or at least, most of me did.”

Her warm hand presses against my chest before moving up to my neck, her fingers touching at my throat for some reason.

“You have no pulse…” she says. “You’re too cold, even a frost mage doesn’t freeze themselves like this…”

“You wouldn’t recognise a monster, even if they were sitting across from you.” I remind her, “Can you still agree to tie your fate to mine?”

I know that this is only inviting rejection, but perhaps that is what I deserve. Perhaps I want to be seen for what I am and not for the lies that others believe about me.

“I already said that I’m not going to fall in love or any of that romantic twaddle,” she jokes, laughing weakly to try and avoid the topic of my death. I do not say anything, giving her time to consider. Time to find the right words to turn me away.

“You’re only killing people that deserve it?” she asks.

“By my own judgement, yes. Though the details of the criminals are being passed on by a reeve who I trust, so you could say that he’s given his judgement also,” I explain. “I need to feed on their blood to grow stronger, I see no good reason to make good people suffer for my curse.”

“Then, I vow to be your unloving wife, that we might share in friendship, support one another through the hard times, and share in the good. That means you’re taking me with you when you go out to deal with more nobles and gangs,” she declares firmly her smile dangerously eager.

I’m quite sure that I cannot dissuade her from this point.

“If you accept the risks, then I cannot deny you the right to follow me,” I submit to her demands. “Also, only wish to be engaged until our issues are dealt with, I’d rather keep myself pure for when I do fall in love. So I would rather our relationship remain pure in that way.”

Belle coughs and splutters, nearly dropping her teacup as a laugh burst out of her. She doesn’t stop there, looking up at me with a smile as bright as can be as she tries and fails to contain the rest of her humour bubbling to the surface.

“I thought you called yourself a monster?” She wheezes between laughing fits. “You sound more like a proper noble maiden.”

“I can’t be both?” I ask, frowning in confusion.

She covers her mouth failing to stop herself from laughing at me.