“Lycoris, a moment. We believe you’ve trained enough for today.”

 “Already?”

 It’d been four days since Lycoris’ “education” began—though he hadn’t really done much studying. At least, none of it really felt like studying, the word brought to mind musty tomes and frumpy old men giving lectures.

 Instead, he’d just been practicing his etiquette through posture and movements, and otherwise training with his trick-scythe.

 It certainly felt light in his hands, but the first time he struck a training dummy with it, the mythril-plated mannequin crumpled and split in half immediately, as though struck by a knight charging on horseback.

 He’d been utterly flabbergasted, but Lilianna assured him that it was genuine mythril, and also that this was normal.

 Apparently, orichalcum was actually incredibly dense, and he hadn’t lost his strength at all even if he’d lost his muscles. Which made an unpleasant amount of sense, if he thought about it.

 After all Lilianna had effortlessly matched—no, if anything she’d easily outmatched—his strikes when they’d dueled before. And now he was like her…

 It’d left a sour taste in his mouth when he first learned about it, but fortunately his tried-and-true stress relief technique—rhythmically swinging a large weapon—worked just as well with a massive scythe-axe as it had with his trusty sword.

 If he had to refine his posture, he’d rather do it with a weapon in hand, and he’d actually developed an appreciation for his new armament. The benefits of swinging a massive, incredibly heavy axe around were obvious, but its scythe mode was more practical than he’d initially given it credit for. Because the chine was as sharp as the belly, it could serve as a slashing weapon with a thrust or tug, or a piercing weapon capable of striking from the side or other irregular angles to circumvent a shield.

 That said, he had a hard time imagining the kind of shield that could endure a full-force swing of this thing in axe form.

 Its ability to shift modes was keyed to the gemstone set in it, which activated when the registered owner released a pulse of mana. Luckily for him, despite his lack of education in any form of magecraft, he could still at least force his mana into his weapon.

 Strengthening a blade in such a manner was an invaluable part of any swordmaster’s arsenal.

 At least, for ones of Mizar or his caliber.

 “You sound rather disappointed,” Lilianna chuckled, in her usual demure manner.

 Today, like every time they came to the training hall, she’d changed herself into a white tank-top and deep blue sweatpants with white stripes going up the sides.

 She always forced Lycoris to change into a similar outfit, though rather than pants, the ex-knight had been forced into azure athletic shorts, which left an uncomfortable amount of leg exposed.

 He bemoaned it at first, asking why she got to wear pants, but resigned himself to being toyed with as the tyrant’s whims dictated since she never gave a proper answer. Nor did he even find anything resembling pants in the dresser she’d set out for him, and the other cabinet simply held bottles of wine…

 If he ever did inherit her position, his first mandate would be getting him a comfortable pair of slacks.

 As his mind returned to reality after he’d internally lamented his fate for long enough, his shoes squeaked with a pivot on the lacquered gray tiles, the snath of his scythe coming to rest against his shoulder.

 “I’m not disappointed, I just don’t feel tired yet. That's all.”

 Truthfully, he hadn’t felt a lick of fatigue since his duel with Lilianna, nor did he ever run out of breath, even after swinging his trick-scythe around for hours on end. He did feel the occasional slight pang of thirst, admittedly—but he wasn’t going anywhere near alcohol again. He’d made a promise, after all.

 “And thus we should move on to the next aspect of your practical lessons, before you feel any fatigue. Combat.”

 Her pupils narrowed dangerously as she looked at Lycoris, drawing one of her thin blades from behind her head.

 He’d been wondering why she had also tied her hair back into a high ponytail today, rather than the usual floral bun.

 “We’re… fighting?”

 His heel bounced in unexpected excitement.

 Wait wait wait, really!? Calm yourself, Lycoris, this is your chance!

 “If you do not wish—”

 “Of course!” he replied with a little more enthusiasm than necessary.

 A crescent smile split the monsters’ lips.

 “Then the first move is yours to make. Come at us however you wish!”

 He kicked off the ground at her signal, charging right at her with his blade behind him, swapping it to axe form just before his upswing.

 If he could cleave Lilianna in half before she even took a stance…

 Still in her neutral position, she calmly took a half step back. Lycoris’ weapon blew past inches in front of her, causing her shirt to billow from the shockwave. She took her turn by force, bringing her sword down in a much gentler, slower motion than he knew she was capable of. She was cautiously feeling him out, giving a surprisingly wide berth.

 He caught her sword with the handle of his weapon, swapping it to scythe form and dragging it horizontally, causing sparks to fly as his heart rate accelerated, his eyes fixated on her neck.

 He certainly wanted to kill this monster and avenge his companions, and free himself in the process.

 But another, much more potent, feeling bubbled up and pushed his vengeance to the wayside. Delight.

 Lycoris was enjoying this.

 “Hohoh, You are quite the natural already.”

 The ruler of the known world laughed exuberantly, drawing her second blade and stopping the horizontal guillotine in its tracks with the toothpick of a sword.

 Then, she held her arms out wide as though she were going to embrace her daughter, only to lightly kick her away instead.

 “Aghk! Hey, that’s cheating!” the girl groused.

 “Cheating? We do not recall establishing any particular rules or etiquette for this duel.”

 No sooner had she landed back on her feet than her mother was bearing down on her, swiping from both sides.

 I can follow her moves now!?

 Her heart skipped a beat in excitement.

 A quick twirl of her scythe quickly deflected both incoming swords, before she pivoted back to axe form with the blade held aloft, and brought it straight down onto her mother’s head—or where it’d been a moment prior. The ground quaked, a tear in the floor splitting open from the force of her impact.

 Lilianna wove to the left and went for a syncopated strike—one blade hiding in the shadow of the other—but rather than attempt to wrench her weapon out to block, Lycoris activated her trick-scythe again, using the momentum of the embedded blade’s transition to throw herself into the air with the grace of a vaulting gymnast.

 As the young vampire sailed through the air, her hair billowing behind her, she let out a rather crass cheer.

 “Lycoris, that’s unbecoming of royalty!”

 Her mother darted back around with ethereal swiftness, dragging the full momentum of her charge into a graceful arc as she aimed her strike right where Lycoris was about to land.

 The Princess flashed her fangs as a joyously shrill laugh escaped her lips.

 Of course Mother would react instantly, she was the greatest force in the world. It’d take more than just a clever trick to evade her. She dislodged her scythe from the ground, swinging it through the air with its tip angled directly at the Exaltare’s heart.

 “Who was it that said there were no rules here!?”

 Hanging in the air, her body perfectly responding to every impulse running through her mind, she felt truly liberated for the first time she could remember. A sense of fulfillment welled up inside her as she dueled with her mother.

 It was like she’d become a perfectly-oiled killing machine, the thought of spilling Lilianna’s blood sending a shiver up her spine.

 Forced to go on the defensive, the Exaltare struck the scythe’s handle just below the blade, using the full force of both swords in an attempt to shake her airborne daughter’s grip on her weapon.

 Instead, the girl swapped modes again, trapping the twinblades between her scythe’s belly and snath, before using the force of her mother’s own strike to twirl around in midair and wrench the paired swords away.

 She landed as she finished her graceful pirouette, rapidly swapping back to scythe form as her mother staggered off balance.

 “Ahahaha! DIE!”

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 As it carved a full circle through the air, dancing along with her ponytail, the blade sunk right into the vampire’s neck… as she turned into pale smoke.

 Stumbling from the lack of resistance to her full-force swing, Lycoris’ eyes widened in shock.

 “Huh!?”

 Before she could regain her balance, the gleefully furious visage of her mother reappeared mid-punch, snarling in satisfaction as her fist sank into Lycoris’ face.

 Pain flared out from her cheek as she was thrown through the air by Lilianna’s follow-through, her grip on her trick-scythe loosening as she inelegantly bounced off the ground, before landing face first on the stone tiles.

 “Blargh! Urrghh…”

 “…Ah!”

 Lilianna blinked, and a heartbeat later was crouching over her daughter.

 “Are you alright, Lycoris? We didn’t go overboard, did we?”

 Lycoris’ head spun and the rush of battle ebbed as her vision gradually came back into focus. Agonizingly tilting her head to look up, her mother’s worried face peered down at her. Her face burned, her jaw felt stiff, and her head felt as though it were swimming through molasses.

 Her body refused to obey as she tried to place her palms against the tile. Realization set in that, if Lilianna had thrown a punch like that before, she probably would’ve snapped Lycoris’ neck.

 Slowly regaining control of herself, she pushed herself back up. The pain rapidly receded as she looked forward, seeing the trail of blood left behind from her graceless flight… blue blood. Vampire blood.

 What was I just—

 A shiver ran up his spine. He reflexively covered his mouth to stifle his scream.

 “Lycoris!?” The Tyrant wrapped her arms around him, pulling him close. “Talk to us, what’s the matter?”

 “Why is that… there?” he pointed to the bloody streak.

 He didn’t want to hear the answer, he didn’t want to ask. But his mouth moved on its own, forcing him to voice the question.

 And the damnably kind woman answered all the same.

 “Our apologies, Lycoris! We got a little carried away. But that’s all! We know you’re a touch sensitive to injury, but it wasn’t out of malice! We were caught off guard by your passion and… We didn’t mean to land such a serious punch. You aren’t hurt, are you? A little blood isn’t that big of a deal, we promise! An injury like this should only take moments to recover from, remember!?”

 “Blood…” he mumbled, pulling his hand away from his lips.

 On those pale petal-like fingers was a small blue smear.

 A gasp ripped its way out of his throat. “N-No! I’m not… I’m HUMAN! Do you hear me!?”

 He tore himself away from Lilianna, staggering back and pressing himself against the wall.

 He’d let himself get complacent, forgetting the source of his struggle as he became familiarized with his daily routine. He’d almost begun to enjoy the time spent with his captor.

 The vampire before him sighed, a gesture he realized was rather exaggerated now that—

 NO! No, no no no. Stop, stop! Don’t think about it!

 “Lycoris…”

 Don’t call me that!

 “The barbs of truth will only bite deeper, the further you push into that briarpatch of denial.”

 “YOU’RE the reason I feel like this!” he snapped back. “You’re the one who made me into… into…”

 “And we did not err in doing so. The daughter standing before us is proof of that.”

 She remained sitting, her back straight and eyes clear as she calmly endured Lycoris’ harsh words.

 “What does that even mean!? You haven’t given any answers at all! You focus on presentation and ceremony and aesthetic and not at all on the person in front of you. You say you care, but do you really!? You’re just like all the stories say; a self-centered monster thinking only of conquest and domination, your feelings a shallow mockery of human emotion! I bet you can’t even begin to imagine what’s going through my head!”

 He slumped down, feeling something hot rolling down his cheeks. His head continued to swirl, even though the impact of the blow had long faded.

 Lilianna closed her eyes, nodding solemnly. “You are not wrong, we do not—cannot—fully understand how you feel. From birth, your life and ours followed vastly different courses. We were born and raised to one day accept this position, and were not embraced until our four hundreds. Meanwhile, you were raised in human lands through your infancy.”

 She stood up, folded her hands in front of her, and smiled.

 “But we were excited, when we saw you—and were concerned by your lifespan. We were certain you would accept reality when it stared back at you. But it seems we underestimated the severity of the situation, from your perspective. Is it so hard to believe we are capable of making a mistake?”

 “…You still haven’t—”

 “It is… an issue, that the Exaltare never truly raises a child. There’s much that we are still feeling out about how to treat and… connect with you. The fact that humans imposed their biases upon you has certainly added quite a few wrinkles. Perhaps we should’ve focused on helping you acclimate… We thought that by starting with the physical lessons instead, it would help bridge the gap between your perception and reality. For that—”

 He was about to respond, but his mind blanked as he witnessed the most powerful figure in the world lower her head before him.

 “—we are deeply sorry.”

 Neither of them moved.

 In that moment stretching on for eternities, his tumultuous emotions gradually ebbed, and an intensely awkward feeling crept up his back instead. He couldn’t place a finger on what exactly it was or why, but something about this felt inherently wrong to him.

 Nobody had ever deferred to him, not like this. And she was…

 “U-Um…” he chose to break the silence first, “You know it’s not really any better if you just apologize and wordlessly stand there. I mean like, kinda makes me feel like… well…”

 Something worth acquiescing to, something distinctly not what he felt like he was.

 But the flickering flame of fury inside him had winked out. His heart just wasn’t in it to be mad anymore, like the kindling had all been removed from under a boiling pot and it’d cooled off. The liquid inside congealed into a syrupy sticky mess, as he forced himself to wade through the swamp of awkwardness to speak up.

 “I-It’s fine, please… you don’t have to keep…”

 Slowly, she raised her head back up at his urging.

 “Let us start with the basics, then. When embraced, the heir does not typically have her features change immediately. It is only when she accepts the position in full, and takes over for her mother, that her eyes and hair become as yours and ours are. Though, she does become female immediately, if she was not already. Historically it’s popular for male heirs to be chosen, as it’s far more apparent when they’re selected as Heir-Significate.”

 “Huh?”

 “Perhaps your features changed immediately because of your young age. Or perhaps it is something else… but there is no doubt in our heart—nor shall anyone who lays eyes upon you question—that you are the only choice to be our heir. Our daughter.”

 Crouched on the ground, his feet splayed out, he stared up at her in bewilderment as she began to explain vampiric society.

 ＊　＊　＊

 “Mizar, Elham, Tatyana, Fawaris… Al… Albireo! M… Marek, Talitha… …Tch. Am I getting dumber? Why can’t I remember their names!? Mizar, Elham, Tatyana, Fawaris, Albireo, Marek, Talitha… … …”

 Lycoris had decided to perform a ritual every morning, where he’d recite the names of all the most important figures in his life first thing after waking up. Except… The names and faces of the other Rays’ Commanders were already growing hazy.

 “But Ma— Lilianna said that vampires have an eidetic memory. So why? Is it because I wasn’t— Wait, maybe because I really am still a human!?”

 He perked up in bed, smiling to himself… before deflating with a breathless sigh.

 No, she made me promise to stop torturing myself thinking like that. Not like I can just… do that, though. Mmrgh, at the very least I still have my human sensibilities. I still have the Goddess’ love… I’m still a human on the inside! That’s where it counts, right?

 Though, the sinister dark clouds kept Her Light from shining down upon this accursed land, scarlet outlines serving as the only indication vampires had to tell if the sun was even in the sky or not…

 Hanging his head gloomily, he stood up and made his way over to the vanity, dressing himself and tending to his hair as a distraction. Maintaining it was a frustratingly time-consuming process, but the idea of having Lilianna bathing and grooming him every single day was beyond mortifying.

 Once was already far more than enough.

 His cheeks darkened just thinking about it, leading him to chase the shameful memory away by focusing on the winged blue rose hair clip he’d affixed to his hair, smiling in satisfaction.

 Today he’d tried braiding his pile of hair into a half-up ponytail, but had nothing to hold it in place. So he fished around the vanity, pushing aside the pile of sealed containers he didn’t recognize, and found a suitable hair clip.

 Apparently the winged blue rose was the heraldry of the Aphtangloa lineage—greatest of all vampire families and rightful rulers.

 He’d picked it out just because he thought it looked nice, but the thought of showing off that he was Lilianna’s rightful heir left a rather sour taste in his mouth. In spite of that…

 Who’s actually going to care though? It’s cute. So why shouldn’t I use it? Not like it isn’t made for me, after all. No wait, what am I thinking!?

 Lilianna had gone over the other noble families as well, but she didn’t have any examples of their heraldry on hand so he had to make do with simply envisioning them in his mind instead.

 She’d drilled it into him that blue was an important color, symbolic of life to vampires. It was standard for royalty to wear clothes of deep hues of blue accented with gold, though they were careful to avoid dipping too close to shades of black, which was avoided for most formalwear outside of funerals.

 The idea of a vampire funeral was somehow amusing to him, as though he couldn’t fathom monsters like these feeling sorrow for each other.

 As logical as the thought process behind their clothing was, he remembered seeing a much more eclectic variety of colors and styles when the party was sneaking through the cities of their empire… perhaps color coordination only mattered to the nobles and royalty.

 “Hard to believe that was only a week ago,” he mumbled, staring at himself in the mirror.

 He didn’t like looking at his reflection—he never really had—but that was why he’d started forcing himself to. He’d never take pride in looking like that tyrant, but he at least needed to learn how to conceal his disgust upon seeing his own face.

 Concession was a two-way street, and though he didn’t want to admit it even now, Lilianna had given quite a bit of ground up for him.

 Though, whether it was truly for his comfort, or because she wanted to have an obedient pawn, he still couldn’t say for sure…