Chapter 352: The Master’s House

Miriam Estroux’s mini-arc. 2/4.******

The mist was formed of magic.

Miriam could tell by the tingling in her wings.

To others, it was a cold which sapped willpower itself. A deterrent more effective than any wall. But to her, it was little more than a pleasant tickle. And perhaps it was true for those who lived here as well.

And that meant there was competition.

Miriam knew little about what went on in the kingdom outside of its bookshops, but she didn't need to imagine who would make their homes in the lawless forests where nearby towns were few and unguarded farms were plenty.

She saw them instead. Or at least where they’d slept.

Hints of camaraderie revealed themselves to her as she weaved amidst the mist. Campfires turned to ash. Bundles of tattered bedrolls. Racks of fish now so rotten even the crows stayed away. 

And then she saw the scars.

There were wounds upon trees where they'd been struck by instruments more blunt than sharp. The outlaws here managed to make enemies of each other more than they did of any guards. And their prize was to loiter upon the doorstep of the least welcoming abode in the woods.

An abandoned manor house.

Miriam blinked down at the sight.

Rather than appearing from a distance, its façade of imposing stone, black tiles and pointed chimneys came with little warning. Locked within a boundary of mist, only silence was there to greet her as she lowered herself before the door.

Dread Captain Neritha Blackheart hadn’t downplayed its ominousness.

Ivy had claimed much of the walls, creeping over the balconies and smothering the windows. Or at least those that were visible. 

Despite the presence of the moonlight, all it did was reveal the darkness blinking from within. A feeling of foreboding permeated this place, deeper than any grave.

Miriam nodded … all the while wondering why she never considered having her own haunted mansion.

Despite the presence of brigands, the lack of furniture strewn outside was evidence that solitude was possible. She held no complaints about her cave in Stermondt, of course. It was cosy and warm. And she had even fewer complaints about her tidy bedroom now. But if she knew that a secluded manor drowning in fog was more than just a gimmick, she would have made one herself.

Miriam realised there was much for her to learn.

And she’d begin by finding out whether or not she was the only vampire in the kingdom.

Knock. Knock.

She lifted the door knocker in the shape of a laughing mask and announced her presence.

A moment later, she was welcomed by a door creaking open and a dark hallway lit by the dimmest candles available. She gratefully accepted.

Stepping inside, she waited for the door to close behind her before admiring the atmosphere. 

There were no cobwebs or dust. But there was something more ominous. A malevolence lived within this manor. A chill which seeped from the regal furnishings. And despite the laughing of the masks on the walls, no such sound greeted her.

“... Hnnffghhh … !!”

Only a muffled cry was there instead.

Miriam paused, tilting her head as she listened.

Desperate and faint, it was rather like Miriam struggling to escape the combs of the maids when they saw the sloppy state of her hair moments after waking up. 

All she heard next was the floor creaking as she followed the candles. 

They lit a path before her, winding through the hallways rich in decoration but empty of colour. The chill became more prominent as she went, the pleasant tickle turning into an icy finger against her skin. 

She still didn’t mind. And before long, she arrived at the most foreboding place yet.

A dining chamber fit for a banquet.

Here, a long table draped in white linen was revealed beneath a spidery chandelier. A dozen guests were already seated, each the politest diners any host could ask for.

After all, they were dead.

Skeletons in formal attire sat in various poses of conversation, skulls lifted back in silent laughter or hands raised in a toast. But while Miriam couldn't speak on behalf of the atmosphere, she at least saw that the table didn’t lack in food.

… Just not the type she usually snacked on.

“Mmmmffphh!! Mmnhhhfh!! Nnnphh!!”

A freckled girl squirmed upon the table.

Wearing the simple dress of a common villager, she struggled against the ropes which bound her. Yet despite her frantic movements, she managed to only flop upon the table like a trout upon land.

However, as if sensing the sudden draft through the doorway, she turned her head and blinked at the new arrival. A look of desperate hope filled her face at once.

Miriam was horrified.

She'd made eye contact.

That meant she now had to do something … maybe, probably.

Anything else was too awkward.

Feeling the weight of expectation upon her shoulders, Miriam scooted forwards, then apologised to the skeletons as she reached past. The girl stopped squirming. But not because her inexperienced saviour was now here.

It was because of the figure observing from above.

“... And which burglar, I wonder, would be so crass as to dare steal away my meal?”

Miriam looked up.

There upon a balcony was the spitting image of an aristocrat.

A man who was tall and slim, with an expression as stern as the façade of his manor. 

It fit with his attire. A court tunic as immaculately woven as his hair–pure white, long and wavy in the style of a powdered wig. Except that unlike the actual powdered wigs popular with dukes, admirals and balding men, his was very much real.

He just spent a lot of time on it.

Master Harkus of Revarin.

Keeper of the shadows. Scion of darkness. Count. Lord. Duke. And the person who'd offered Miriam the first leaflet concerning all things vampirism. 

He had all of these titles and more. It didn’t matter. His first was superior. 

He was a master of his own kind, whose name had outlasted even the kingdom he was born in. Even if few would ever guess that. Only in his eyes was there a hint of his true age.

They were dark and sunken, like wells which had yet to find the bottom.

“Speak now,” he said, the icicles practically forming in his words. “Or forever hold your peace. I do not entertain unexpected guests. But I do permit them to leave—in soul, if not in body.”

A moment later, the mottled skeletons around the table began to labour in their seats.

Miriam didn’t pay them any attention. She blinked at the frowning figure above.

Then, she offered a wave.

“Hello, Mr. Harkus. It's me.”

The skeletons paused. As did the lips of the master vampire which had begun to curl into a smirk.

A moment later, he squinted while leaning over the balcony.

And then—

“... Why, if it isn't the young countess herself!”

Fwooooosh.

All of a sudden, light filled the dining chamber.

Both the darkness and the ominous atmosphere was brushed aside as torches, braziers, candelabras and no less than three additional chandeliers burst to life.

It was nothing compared to the delight upon the master vampire's face.

He hopped down without reservation, gracefully landing beside the skeletons and the girl whose eyes were wide with terror. Especially as a small flock of bats appeared seemingly out of nowhere.

“Miriam Estroux!” said Master Harkus, his arms raised in joy. “How little you've grown! I do apologise. I expected you to be … well, not quite dressed like that. What manner of attire are you wearing, may I ask?”

Miriam lifted the sleeve of her pyjamas.

“It's modern fashion.”

The master vampire hummed, then nodded regardless. The warmth not in his blood was very much in his voice.

“Is it now? Goodness me, how swiftly these things change! It's a wonder how the feeble minds of mortals even keep up. But then again, I suppose that's why they're permanently underdressed. Not like you. You look spiffing … if also somewhat pale. And not in a good way.”

Master Harkus leaned forwards and studied Miriam’s complexion with academic curiosity.

“... You look parched. Peasants not to your noble taste, I take it?”

“Well, no,” she said truthfully.

“I see. Understandable. Standards once raised cannot be lowered. But that's why we only pick the best. I see you've already experienced the issues with that. Have you made a farm yet?”

“A farm?”

“Of those containing suitable lineage. I'd be stunned if you haven't. With your familial connections, it should be relatively simple.”

Miriam shook her head.

“I'm a countess in name only. My former holdings are long lost.”

“That shouldn't matter. Your title is more important than any jumble of chimneys. And I doubt kowtowing will change no matter how many centuries pass. If you haven't begun work on your farm yet, I advise it.”

“Um, actually—”

The master vampire instantly held out his palms.

“Oh, please don't think I'm pressuring you. I understand well the thrill of the hunt. But I'd be remiss not to say that all vampires are doomed to realise that convenience and sustainability are things that can only be achieved over several centuries of social engineering. Just something to bear in mind.”

Miriam nodded.

“Thank you for the advice. But if you don't mind, may I ask why you happen to be here?”

“You certainly may! I've been resting. Or indulging in triumph, I should say. The downfall of the Rozinthe Imperium was a tiring affair. But equally some of my damn best work. You should have seen it. An empire collapsing. Rebellion on the streets. Flames in every window. And all because I convinced Empress Halyconia that cats were the devil's pets. The plague which happened? Beyond my wildest expectations. Didn't need to lift a finger. It was marvellous.”

Master Harkus smiled so broadly that even the jaws of the skeletons seemed to shift into a grin.

Miriam simply stared.

“Oh, I see. It's just that I thought you might have been destroyed.”

“Well, I admit it was close at times. The Cowled Magisters began to suspect interference almost immediately. Luckily, I convinced them that a necromancer was at work. Which was excellent, since there was actually was. Completely accidental. Never felt so guilty about an execution before. His plan was better than mine.”

Master Harkus offered a nod of acknowledgement.

Then, all was promptly forgotten as he gestured before him.

“But let's not indulge in dullness. You are far more exciting. How has the young countess fared in these past few centuries? I promised I wouldn't pry, but curiosity is ever my weakness after a slumber. Have you subdued any kingdoms or—”

Suddenly, the master vampire paused.

His eyes widened. And then his palm slapped himself theatrically upon the head.

“—Countess Miriam, I am ever so sorry.”

“Excuse me?”

“It's only natural you'd make this kingdom your first choice of subjugation. The utter thoughtlessness of me. I had no intention of interfering in your schemes. This is so embarrassing. Of course you'd be here to query my presence. Please tell me I haven't ruined anything.”

“You haven't ruined anything.”

“... Truly? In that case, perhaps I might be bold enough to offer assistance? I still feel regretful about being so busy last time. If nothing else, we can ensure our plans don't conflict. Naturally, I'll concede to you on every point. It's your kingdom to subdue, after all.”

Miriam blinked.

“I have no interest in subduing the kingdom.”

“No?”

“It sounds tiring.”

“Oh. Well, I suppose starting slowly is suitable too. What do you have planned, then?”

“To work.”

“... Work?”

“I've secured gainful employment as a librarian. In return, I'm offered a weekly salary.”

For a moment, the master vampire did nothing but stare at her.

And then—

“Bwahahahahahaahaha … !!”

The bats which were hanging from the ceiling fled as the master vampire lifted his head, mimicking half the skeletons behind him in riotous laughter.

“A librarian!” he said between bouts of amusement. “Quite the interesting disguise! Goodness, I confess I've never even considered using that before!”

“It is not a disguise. I am a librarian.” Miriam tilted her head slightly. “... I did say that I only wished to become a vampire so I could read.”

The laughter faded at once.

Instead, a look of utmost exasperation appeared so suddenly that it was like a river had patiently waited to pour forth from just around the corner.

“Excuse me? Do you mean to say that your vampiric instincts haven't shovelled that away yet … ?”

Miriam nodded.

The grief expanded ten fold at once.

“Good hells, Miriam! I don't know whether to be impressed or horrified. I did not humour your request for unbridled power only to see it wasted on literature! I did it because I saw talent! How has your desire to consume the world from the shadows not emerged? … Even the merest taste of blood should be enough to awaken it!”

“I don't drink blood.”

“You don't drink blood?” Master Harkus's jaw dropped. “How do you even survive?”

“I substitute blood with a diet of tea and sugar.”

“That is atrocious.”

“I like it.” Miriam yawned while stretching her arms. “I also like working in a library. It's fulfilling. But it does mean I have schedules at threat of being delayed. I'm sorry, but is it possible for you to conduct your own work elsewhere? I’m worried about the budget.”

The master vampire looked like he was about to self-combust.

“Is it possible? Certainly so. Will I do it? Not for that.” 

Miriam had no response.

After all, her only words now were to be directed to the king and queen. She'd need to inform them that a master vampire was present. And that now meant making her excuses, leaving, and then avoiding wherever in the Royal Villa all the silver crossbows were going to be stored.

There was just one problem.

Bwam.

The bound girl as she rolled off the table.

She gave a small groan against the rope in her mouth, then did her best to flop away. It wasn't very good. She was as mobile as a tied up ham ready to be roasted.

“Excuse me,” said Miriam, pointing at the girl. “But may I ask who this is?”

“Hm?” Master Harkus turned, then nodded. The grief on his face lessened at once. “... Ah, this would be my needless indulgence. I hope you won't tattle. It's not good to indulge so soon after waking up, but this one is special. Perhaps you can tell?”

“She looks like a village girl.”

“Oh, she very much is. But her blood is particularly pure. More like a sister's than a common villager's. You come across it more rarely these days. Would you like to partake? She'd be an excellent choice to wet your fangs. I’m certain that’s all you need.”

The girl looked up, her eyes slightly swollen and red. She shook her head as much as she was able.

Miriam looked awkwardly away.

“Thank you, but I must decline.”

Master Harkus nodded without disappointment. On the contrary, he wore a renewed look of satisfaction as he peered at the squirming village girl.

“So be it. In that case, I suppose I'm simply forced to observe the most sacred traditions of our kind for the two of us.”

“Hmmmfghh … !! Nnngff … !! Nnnnmfh … !!”

Miriam plucked at the end of her sleeve as the girl looked desperately at her.

Unfortunately, there was nothing she could do.

She had to warn the kingdom. That was the most important thing. Attempting to rescue a village girl wasn't in her interests. She had no means to fight a master vampire even if she were at full strength.

Moreover … Miriam simply wasn't a heroine.

She had never once appeared beneath the moonlight to save those in need, just like those in the stories she read. Just like a certain princess.

That wasn’t her role.

Thus, her shoulders drooped as she readied her excuses … all the way until she pointed at the girl attempting to snail her way to the window.

“I will do it,” said Miriam simply.

“Excuse me?”

“I wish to partake in doing vampire things with the tearful village girl.”

Master Harkus looked at her in shock.

Then, he raised his arms in joy.

“Why, so you could sense her purity! Absolutely marvellous! I knew it was only a matter of time! By all means, indulge to your heart's content! You've no need to worry on my account—please, consider this a belated welcoming gift!”

Miriam smiled. And then she waited.

“... Will you be watching?”

The master vampire blinked.

A moment later, he gave a hearty laugh, mimicking the masks upon the walls.

“My apologies, Countess Estroux,” he said, offering a short bow. “I forget my manners–as well as something urgent I happen to need to do. I shall return when it’s appropriate.”

With a merry smile, his form became a flock of bats, taking to the balcony where he had first appeared and leaving only a horrified village girl behind.

Miriam nodded.

Then, she leaned down, scooped her up and ran.