Several days passed immersed in training and sword slashes. Aria was making progress quickly but with no small difficulty. Anton no longer struck with the stick, but his bitter words towards her made her feel so melancholy that, when she returned home to rest, she wondered what was wrong.

She was studying, practicing and had found, according to her, a certain balance. Yet, the master demanded more, more and more. When she learned to defend herself using the hilt, her expectations increased and Anton this time demanded the perfect slash. And when she also mastered the perfect slash, she had to learn another type of strike. And another. And another. Always with the stern look of the pixie putting pressure on her.

She was a capable student, surprisingly by expectations, and she was learning rather quickly.

She told her father that she had enrolled in a private school and that the lessons were held in the morning. With the help of Madame Doroteya, the owner of the house did not suspect anything and, given the work that kept him busy all day, there was no way he could create situations that would have allowed her cover to be blown.

Then one evening of an ordinary day arrived. That morning Aria had given her best and had spent the afternoon reading about heroes of the city who faced all kinds of creatures. Dragons that breathed fire, goblins that attacked caravans and the most common nymphs that flattered men. Since she had started training, however, she had looked for something else from those stories.

Creatures of the night that could feed on blood.

She thought that they were popular, that perhaps they could be found in the most sought-after books and, if she did not find them there, then she would look for them on the highest shelves, where people usually did not look. And if even that was not enough, she would order the entire library just for her purpose.

But no way. There was not even a trace of vampires.

Not in history books, not in legends, not in folk tales. It was as if no one had ever written about them, as if vampires had never even existed in the human imagination.

At dinner they talked about this and that. Her father asked her few questions, and the one who spoke the most was Aria herself. Perhaps more out of fear than will. She explained how she was learning acting at school to become a theater actress. Obviously, everything she told him wasn’t true, but in order not to arouse suspicion in those days she had constructed a story that she would use when needed, just like in the embarrassing pauses that arose between one sip of wine and the next.

“If you like theater, I have to take you.”

“But father, you know that I like modern theater. The ones you took me to when I was little were so… old-fashioned.” she brought a ravioli to her mouth, “And then the actors are all old.”

Her father let out a spontaneous laugh.

“Maybe because young people aren’t capable?”

“Young people can be very capable, Father, they are just not given the opportunity.”

Ungern brought not one, not two, but three ravioli to his mouth. Then, after wiping his mouth with a napkin, he drowned himself in a good glass of red wine.

“I’ve decided. Tonight we’re going to the theater, you and I. Getting tickets won’t be hard, and I promise you that the actors will all be young.”

Aria’s interest began to get serious. She really liked the theater and went to see shows every now and then. That was also why she chose that as an excuse.

“A colleague at work told me that this new company has just formed, ‘the wonders’ or something like that. They’re all young…” he lingered on that word a little longer, “beautiful and offering more… modern shows, or whatever you call them.”

“And you’d do that for me?”

“For whom else? It’s been a long time since we’ve been to the theater together, and now that you’re learning about it, I think you’d really like to see something live.”

Aria couldn’t help but accept that offer. Not because she didn't like it, on the contrary, she was genuinely interested in seeing a work with all those characteristics that her father was presenting to her, but that man was still her father, a stern man even if you couldn't tell from his manners.

Refusing would have meant having him against us and not being able to leave the house for at least a week.

“Of course, father, I'd be happy. I'm going to get ready.”

“Finish dinner, before.”

“I don't want to be late, father. I have to be presentable…” she moved a lock of hair, “you know how we women are.”

Aria returned to her room where Madame Doroteya was waiting for her, having already chosen a dress.

“Oh! I'm so excited! Aren't you too, my dear?”

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“No.”

“But you should! Today you're going to the theater! L'emblème de l'amour, as they say where I live.”

Aria put on the dress, then sat in front of the mirror and huffed the whole time.

“What a drag. More than anything, it’s going with my father that annoys me.”

With her arms folded, she let the housekeeper apply a little makeup, then bowed her head to have her wig fixed.

“Come on, girl, what’s this? Do this… while you’re there watching the show… think about something else. Anything, at least distract yourself.”

Aria let out another snort.

“If only it were easy…”

When the preparations were complete, Aria joined her father at the family carriage. The trusted coachman was driving and both Aria and her father made themselves comfortable inside. The leather of the seats kept their clothes warm and the lantern in the center that moved frenetically during the curves had the role of warming and keeping the guests warm.

Not a word was said during the journey. Every now and then you could hear Ungern muttering about the streets and the ugly faces you could meet at that hour, but otherwise it was a quiet ride to the Modern Theater, one of the last buildings commissioned by the King.

It was the second largest theater in Korotsk, after the national one, and could count up to six hundred seats. It was the first time Aria had set foot in it and she was immediately enchanted. The walls were full of frescoes and brass statues, as were the seats that had been covered in a shiny material unknown to her. The whole thing was so sumptuous and worthy of a noble building.

She noticed how all the attendees, that night, were nobles or undersecretaries on behalf of the various houses. After all, the ticket cost as much as a month's salary of a common citizen.

They decided to sit in the third row, obtaining two of the last seats before the show began. The composition was quickly made: on her left was her father, stiff with the torso and attentive to every single movement on the stage. To her right was a young man, of the Velikorsky family, dressed in white and with two military medals on his chest. In front of her, however, were two gentlemen so tall that she had to crane her neck to see at all. She leaned on the right armrest to find a better opening and, when she did, she noticed that the boy next to her moved to give her space.

He smiled at her.

She ignored him.

Behind her, two old ladies who couldn’t stop talking about their family affairs. One of them had two beautiful grandchildren who were going to join the army, while the other, a widow, talked about how her husband had fought in the war and was killed after a horse fell.

Aria snorted.

The theater was a fascinating place, but sometimes it was the people who made it unbearable.

When the show started, however, there was silence.

That’s when Aria started to apply Madame Doroteya’s advice. She had wanted to watch the show so much, but her father’s watchful eyes and, above all, his presence, had killed the mood right from the start.

She then slightly closed her eyes and focused on the back of one of the two guys in front. She imagined herself somewhere else entirely, maybe in a forest, maybe on the seashore. Her thoughts soon deviated until she found herself at the academy, sword in hand, training with Anton.

Who knows, she thought, what she would learn tomorrow. Maybe another slash? Dodging an attack? Or the much-hated but necessary endurance tests. They were running in circles until your legs hurt so much that your score was determined by the number of laps you made.

The first actors took the stage and there was a general round of applause.

What was the show about, Aria wondered. A love story? Maybe a family comedy? A story about soldiers? The latter were particularly popular, so she was sure she would see something like that.

But instead…

Her attention increased when she heard one word in particular.

Hunter.

Had she imagined it? Maybe they meant a boar hunter, or a deer hunter.

“Oh yeah… that must be it.”

Another word.

Vampire.

It was then that her eyes widened and she almost leapt forward, held back only by the comfortable chair.

The first actor was dressed in a military uniform and was unsheathing his sword to strike his opponent.

The second actor, who had just entered the scene, was wearing a black suit with a long red cape that he liked to let flutter every now and then. His skin was white as snow and blood was dripping from his teeth.

The two began to fight and it was obvious to Aria that it was a fight between a hunter and a vampire.

The two actors made funny moves, the hunter the most. The audience started to laugh and so did her father.

“A damn comedy show about a subject like that!?” thought Aria, who was the only one who didn’t laugh.

In fact, seeing a show like that was starting to upset her stomach. The portrayal of the hunter was as wrong as one could imagine. His movements were clumsy and he showed no pride in fighting an evil creature like a vampire. Every fall was followed by a joke.

“The vampire knocked me down! Who does he think he is?” and he turned to the audience, “Does he really think he can beat me?” he got up only to fall again, stepping on a banana peel.

The audience laughed.

“If I don’t get beaten by the vampire, I’ll definitely get beaten by the food! My mom always told me to not to eat too much!”

The audience laughed again.

Aria started to feel dizzy. She didn’t like the fact that hunters were portrayed like that. Plus, the sight of a vampire, even a fake one, brought back those bad memories.

She had to leave.

As soon as possible.

She could feel the people breathing on her and the noise coming out of her mouth. The heat in the theater grew more intense and she was suffocated by it.

“I have to go to the bathroom,” she said to her father, but he was too amused to give her an answer.

So she did. She stood up and struggled through the crowd until she reached the hallway. She quickly turned to look for the bathroom, and after finding it and going in, she immediately ran to the stall.

She threw up.

Not once, but twice.

Aria felt sick.

“Fuck!”

She punched the wall, breaking a tile.

What was that show? Why had no one ever said anything about vampires and now, all of a sudden, they're making a theatrical story out of it?

"Of course... now everything is clearer..." she said to herself, "that my father organized it?"

She was more than convinced that that evening had been planned by her father. In his heart, Ungern was afraid that Aria, after meeting Liza, had allowed herself to be dragged into the world of hunters and that a show like that could scare her from going.

"You were wrong."

Her face had a smile that went from cheek to cheek, while the pain in her stomach was giving way to a sense of beneficial energy.

"Too late." she laughed.

The girl waited for the show to end before returning to her father. He was waiting for her once again at the carriage, and when they got in, Aria apologized for being absent and missing the end of the show.

“No excuses, it was a mediocre show.”

“You laughed the whole time, Father.”

“Yes, but more at the embarrassment of that hunter than at the show itself. I was right, you know, young actors can’t act.”

No more words between the two of them, but a continuous muttering from Ungern as they took the road back.

“Damn hunters…”