"My Lord", Tête entered the room and bowed her head, "There is a letter for you, sir".
She presented the envelope that she was holding in her hands.
"On the table", the master of the house muttered, without looking her way, continuing his gaze into the unknown outside the window, sitting in his recliner.
"Anything else?", when Tête didn't leave for a while, he finally asked.
"My Lord, I am but a servant of your family, like my father was and his father too. We've served your noble family for generations and now, I find it in me to ask you about the fate of your daughter that I raised with my own two hands".
"You've served us", he looked her way, uninterestingly, "Your job has been fine. And this is the only time any member of your family has questioned a decision made by the family of Vlad. It is perhaps my own failure that pests like you have gained a mouth. But since you've presented yourself to me with that miserable fate of yours, let me tell you".
He began.
"Vampires cannot have children. That's the reason they procreate with human women to give birth to children. Although Dhampirs are considered the inferior race to the vampires, that's the only way for us to reproduce. In rare cases, when the female vampires do become pregnant, they lose the child in the most excruciating way possible. That is just how their bodies are designed. When Dhampirs come of age, they are made to forgo all human parts of them through the blood ritual. That's how the pure lineage of the family of the original vampire, Vlad, has been preserved until now."
"Vlad had a dream. He wanted to be god. He wanted to find the Root of all magic, he wanted to conquer everything, his vision was far greater than anyone else. That's why he was feared and discriminated against. But he discovered that even with a life as long as his, there was death. And that brought him nothing but sadness. But he overcame death and conquered, until the world became far too small for him. At the end of it, the one thing he accomplished was the purity, the Original Power, the Root of God. But then...he ended his life. A mystery for all his children to uncover. Why had he chosen oblivion at the end of his journey? And the Root which was passed down with his soul...how was it to be rediscovered? ".
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"We, his children, are far too weak to carry his vision. Dhampirs are, in the end...impure. But that is not a pipe dream anymore. My daughter is what all our history rests upon. She is of pure blood. A miracle born of two vampires. We thought it impossible but she is the proof of our existence for all generations to come. We will not be erased. Any child she births will be born with the Root, Vlad's soul. But no one in Wallach is worthy of even touching her shadow. This land is rotten with filth. They are meager humans who've no dream, they are cattle!".
"My Lord..."
"The noble family of Valentines doesn't know of our origins. They believe us to be practitioners of powerful magic but they don't know about Wallach's history at all. My daughter will bear the Root without fear and we wouldn't be trampled upon by history."
"Lord Magnus!", Tête's trembling voice rose drawing his full attention to her, though he kept looking aside at the wood turning to ash in the fire place, "Are you so haunted by the memory of my mistress that you cannot love your daughter without reason? Are your dreams and ambitions anchoring your sadness, sire? Even if your disgust for the little Lady is so intense...even if you blame her for not dying...Lady Esme died an excruciating death when it should have been her...My Lord, you haven't been able to love the girl who took away my Lady Esme from you, but you are guilt ridden for not loving the fruit of your and my late Lady's affection, and so now you seek a way to accept your daughter. Do you really need such a reason to find her existence bearable for you? Even after all this time, when you've been estranged to her, I'm sure Lady Faye wouldn't mind if you never looked back at her, so my Lord, pardon my foolish speech, but I beseech you to halt your mourning. I'm sure this is what Lady Esme-"
Magnus turned his bloodshot eyes toward Tête, which froze her to the core. She was imagining herself dead in a matter of minutes but the glare soon broke and Magnus turned his back toward her. He continued to gaze out the window. It had been snowing.
"You will not come within my sight from here on out. Your father's loyalty to my horse was exceptional and this is how I return favors. Now go and busy yourself in matters so that I'd neither hear you nor see you ever again. For the next time I encounter you, you will take your last breaths".
Tête looked hard at the master that she was to leave for good on this day. She bowed her head and silently headed out the door. The letter rested on his study table with "Versailles" engraved at the seal which was never broken.