I Am Not The Only Monster In This Story

Igor stood outside Maisie's room, the tray balanced in one hand, his expression carved from stone. The tension between them hadn't broken; it had just gone quiet.

Ever since the rally, Maisie had kept to herself, barely speaking, barely eating. Igor hadn't seen her leave her room in days. And that morning, when she didn't show for breakfast, something told him it wasn't just sleep keeping her in.

He knocked once. No answer.

After a pause, he let himself in.

Maisie sat on the edge of her bed, fingers curled tight around the blanket like she might unravel if she let go. Her eyes were red-rimmed, and the shadows beneath them looked weeks deep.

Igor stepped forward, setting the tray on her desk. "Good morning, Mistress."

His tone was formal, but not cold. A touch of caution threaded through it.

Maisie didn't look at him at first. "Morning," she murmured, voice scratchy.

He glanced at her, noting how her shoulders stayed rigid, unmoving.

He tried again, more gently this time. "Did something happen?"

Maisie gave a breathy, humorless laugh. "That's one way to put it."

Igor hesitated, his brow faintly furrowed. "I remember the rally. I remember the vans. And then… nothing. We both blacked out. But when I woke up, I was back here."

He watched her closely now. "Did something happen after that? To you?"

Maisie's eyes flicked toward him, then away again. "I don't know," she said after a long moment. "I think something did. But I can't remember it clearly."

Igor didn't press further. He didn't have answers. And pressing wouldn't make them come faster.

So he stood there, quiet, giving her space. Sometimes, silence said more than questions ever could.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Maisie broke the silence. Her voice was barely more than a whisper. "Do you remember what I told you… About my mother? About Leo?"

Igor nodded slightly, careful not to interrupt. Her fingers were working the blanket in her lap, twisting the fabric so tight it looked ready to tear.

Maisie's throat bobbed as she swallowed. "She slept with an Alucard. Back before she married my father, before she was even out of college. He worked at the estate, one of the first servants my grandfather assigned to her. She said it started as a crush."

Her voice dropped, more bitter than she meant it to be. "She always did like pretty things."

Igor blinked. He didn't comment. Her tone suggested she wasn't just talking about her mother anymore.

Maisie exhaled slowly, shoulders drawing in. "I think he was the reason she stopped trusting herself. Stopped trusting… any of us. She said he was 'charming,' 'dangerous,' and 'not meant to love.' But she did love him. For a while."

Igor shifted his weight. He didn't know what to say to that. He wasn't used to Maisie being vulnerable, fractured like this. It felt wrong. Like watching a statue crack.

"Did she say his name?" he asked finally.

Maisie shook her head. "No. She never does. But she told me one more thing."

She paused. Her breath hitched.

And then, without warning, she gasped. Her chest rose and fell too fast, her hands clawing at the blanket like she needed something to grip, to hold on to.

Igor took a cautious step forward. "Maisie?"

She shook her head, blinking fast. "I'm okay," she said, barely getting the words out. "Just, sometimes, it's hard to breathe."

He didn't move closer, but he didn't retreat either. Just waited.

Maisie calmed herself. Just enough.

"She had a child," she said quietly. "His child. That's what she told me. That's what she wanted to confess before… before everything went sideways."

Igor stilled. The implication was immediate, but Maisie didn't say the name.

She didn't have to.

Igor's expression didn't change, but there was something behind his eyes that flickered with understanding. He had heard whispers over the years, pieces of conversations not meant for him. Enough to suspect there was more to Leo's story than anyone let on. But for Maisie, this was fresh. The shock clung to her skin like frost.

"Go on," he said softly.

Maisie swallowed. "Leo…" She exhaled his name like a bitter wind. "Leo isn't my father's son. He's the product of two different species." Her voice curled into a dry, mirthless laugh. "No wonder our family's so fractured. My father… he doesn't love Leo. Not the way he loves Dash or me. To him, Leo is unnatural. A mistake he's been forced to keep under the same roof."

Her eyes met Igor's, wet, wide, disbelieving. "And now I can't stop seeing it. Every memory. Every silence. Every time, Leo stood apart."

Igor nodded slowly, saying nothing at first. Letting her speak.

Maisie's voice cracked. "I thought it was just tension. Just… distance. But now I know. Leo's never felt like he belonged, because he doesn't. And no one ever told him why."

"Leo is still your brother," Igor said gently. "No matter what blood runs through his veins."

Maisie flinched at the word.

"The past is a graveyard of mistakes," he continued. "We visit it too often and wonder why we can't find peace."

Her face twisted, part disbelief, part shame.

"I thought I could be better than them," she whispered. "But when she told me, when my mother admitted it, I lost control. I called her a slut. I told her she was disgusting. I didn't even think. The words just came out."

She buried her face in her hands for a moment. Her voice trembled. "She left crying. And I just… I stood there. I didn't go after her."

Now, Igor stepped closer, slow and measured. "You're angry," he said, not unkindly.

Maisie nodded, her breath shaky. "I'm angry at her for lying. At my father for pretending. And Leo, for not trusting me enough to say anything." Her eyes turned to the wall, unfocused.

Her voice dropped to almost nothing. "But that's not the only reason I've been crying."

Igor's voice was quiet. "Yes?"

Maisie didn't look at him right away. Her fingers moved restlessly, tracing invisible shapes on the blanket.

"This morning… my mother hit me," she said softly, almost like she didn't believe it herself. "She said she knew about the White Angels. That she should've stopped it earlier. Then she told me I couldn't go anymore. That as long as I live under her roof, I do what she says." Her jaw clenched. "It's so unfair. I'm twenty. I'm not a child. She can't control me forever."

Igor stayed still, his gaze steady. "Did you ask her why?"

Maisie swallowed. "No. She left. Crying." Her voice wavered. "I think it's because of what I said last night. I called her immoral. A liar. I… I was awful to her. Maybe she hit me because I made her feel like a monster."

Igor was quiet for a long moment. Then he said, "Or maybe she's just afraid."

Maisie blinked. "Afraid?"

"Yes." He sat down across from her, voice calm but firm. "She's hidden the truth for decades. Now it's out. She can't control how people see her anymore, not your father. Not Leo. And not you."

Maisie stared at him.

"If she can't control the story," Igor continued, "maybe she's trying to control you instead. Because losing your trust might scare her more than anything else."

The anger in her eyes faltered, replaced with confusion. Then a flicker of realization.

"You think that's what this is about?" she asked.

"I do," Igor said. "It doesn't excuse what she did. But it might explain it."

Maisie looked down again. Her voice was quiet. "I need to talk to her."

Igor nodded. "Yes."

She sat a little straighter, tension slowly draining from her posture. "I'll apologize. For how I acted. But not for wanting to choose my path."

"That seems fair," Igor said, rising.

Maisie let out a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding. Her chest felt lighter, like a knot had begun to loosen.

"Thank you, Igor," she said softly. "You always know how to make things clearer."

He met her eyes, and for a second, his usual reserve gave way to something warmer, gentler.

"It's what I'm here for, Mistress," he said, voice low. "Always."

He turned to leave, and Maisie sat still, watching him go. Something between them had shifted. Not loudly. Not dramatically. But meaningfully.

Like the beginning of a thread finally being pulled loose.