Vampire and the Dayspring Star

4 — Miss Maid's Misleading Dismay



Lycoris’ days had already become quite busy.

Etiquette and training, then washing up, study and rest. While there was no set schedule, and many days the Exaltare left Lycoris to his own devices mid-lesson to tend to her duties as ruler, the structure helped keep him grounded and sane through what was perhaps the most tumultuous time in his life.

It was hard to top getting turned into a little girl by the enemy of the world, after all.

Lilianna made for a far more engaging teacher than the dogmatic scholars of human civilization. Because vampires could perfectly recall any memory from across their entire lifespan, they typically eschewed things like textbooks in favor of spoken words. It suited Lycoris perfectly well; he never put an active effort towards learning how to read or write, outside of the minimum needed to perform his duties as a subcommander of one of the King’s knightly companies.

That said, vampires still produced literature, but the sovereign hadn’t seen fit to supply any for him to read at the moment. She wasn’t kidding when she said that she was going to teach him the absolute basics, which apparently even preceded reading lessons.

It was quite engaging however. He didn’t want to admit it, but he actually had fun when she’d sit him down and explain the ins and outs of how the world worked. Since it was one-on-one instruction, there was no rush to keep up; any time he had a question, she was eager to answer it. And she was a far cry better than Elham at articulating herself, though it pained him to besmirch his deceased companion in such a manner.

Her well of knowledge seemed truly bottomless. Not only was she familiar with practically any subject he could even think to ask about, she could fire off a highly detailed answer almost immediately. Even when she struggled to find a means of putting it in a way he’d grasp, a quick look at her mysterious black glass slate gave her just what she needed, apparently.

She explained things that were commonplace to vampires, like lightswitches and elevators and moving pictures, stores with ready-made clothing that one could just enter and pick something that fit their size and style, instantaneous long distance communication… Though he’d been incapable of wrapping his head around the idea that all of the knowledge available to vampires was trivially accessible from a magic slate that nearly everyone had, and that fit cozily in the palm of one’s hand.

Vampire society seemed… leagues and leagues ahead of everyone else. It dawned on him exactly why nobody could even begin to contest them, even setting aside their superhuman capabilities and seemingly eternal lifespans.

Humanity’s stagnation frustrated him more than ever, now that he had an actual point of comparison. Not a single piece of technology he’d learned of seemed vile or wicked, like the ruins of the past the Church preached about. If anything, it seemed to be a net positive for everyone involved. Did the Goddess really punish and destroy those fallen civilizations for such things?

Was living a life of comfort really that hedonistic?

Surely, the fact they were vampires couldn’t mean that the technology itself was evil too. He’d have to ask a priest, if he ever made it back to the Kingdom.

…If such a thing is even possible.

But instead of lingering on the distant, improbable future, his efforts were better spent thinking about how to manage his time today instead.

For today was the first day in two weeks that Lilianna had a full schedule, and couldn’t spend any time with him at all until the late evening. Which left him with a day all to himself.

She’d woken him early in the morning—earlier than he usually awoke—and tearfully explained that she had no other choice, as there was some sort of celebration being held and her attendance would be expected.

Yes, her eyes had actually welled with tears, even though she’d managed to otherwise retain her composure. He almost thought he’d hallucinated it—the scariest figure in the entire world, called Demon Lord by mankind, the one responsible for all their suffering and oppression, was moved to tears.

Aside from his sleepy-headed astonishment, he wasn’t too torn up about it himself, instead simply acknowledging that he’d heard her while curling up under the smooth sheets.

Despite his newfound (temporary) freedom, he wasn’t sure what to actually do with himself. The idea of sleeping in never even occurred to him. After thirty years in the military, waking at first bell had been engraved as deeply in his soul as any of the Goddess’s teachings.

…Not that vampires rang bells. Instead they used digital clocks, which displayed the precise time of day down to the second. It was frustrating that they even surpassed mankind in timekeeping.

Stretching his arms and legs beneath the sheets, he stared listlessly up at the purple canopy of his bed.

“This would be the perfect chance to try and escape… except I’m not even sure where the front door is. Or how many guards would be in the way. And if I failed and raised the alarm, mother would—”

He smacked his hands against his cheeks, rolling over and groaning.

“Augh! The hell is wrong with me!? Focus, focus. Right, you forgot your morning ritual, Lycoris. Ugh, curse that old vampire for waking me up early… threw off my entire routine.”

Blaming the woman for all his woes, he sat up slowly and crossed his legs meditatively. He closed his eyes and began to picture the faces of those important to him.

“Mizar, Elham, Tatyana… Fawaris, Albireo, Marek, Talitha… People I won’t forget, and people I mustn’t forget. My friends, and those who hurt them… Maybe I should add Lilianna to the list too, then.”

His lips wryly curled as he thought back to the very start of their journey.

It’d all started in a bar, where he’d been slumped over trying to forget how upset he was about… about something, when Mizar approached him. He was certain that another bottle or two might do the trick, but the boy—the Hero was an adult even back then, sure, but he still had a lot of growing to do—had other ideas, and introduced him to Elham. He still remembered the cheery redhead’s first words in the middle of the empty morning tavern: “are you in need of detoxification, Sir?”

That’d certainly gotten many a laugh out of him and Mizar, though he’d been a little peeved at the time. In retrospect, alcohol ended up causing far more problems for him than it solved, so the boys had the right idea. He’d nearly ended up the same as his father—though decidedly less violent of a drunk. It was a thought that unpleasantly lingered in the back of his mind alongside a faint thirst—a hunger, almost—that lingered even now. He owed Mizar for pulling him out of that spiral.

Though, neither of them could have predicted the trajectory that his life would take instead…

He glanced at the door, and the wicked-looking scythe resting against the wall beside it. It wasn’t exactly breaking the mold, but maybe he could sneak off to the training hall to clear his head? Exercise always served him well, and he knew the way there well enough after visiting the place nearly every day in Lilianna’s company.

As he thought about it, another idea occurred to him. Perhaps he could skulk through the palace’s halls, and try to find a way out. It always seemed disconcertingly quiet, though he couldn’t tell if it was because nobody was permitted in this part of the palace or because of something else.

If he accidentally strayed towards other people, he could always duck into a vacant room or down a different hall to avoid being seen—his ears were quite sharp now, in more ways than one.

“Heh heh heh, just you wait ‘mother,’ I’ll wriggle outta your grasp one way or another…”

Chuckling deviously, Lycoris crawled out of bed.

* * *

Even though the red carpet and beige walls had become quite familiar to Lycoris, the oppressive silence weighed heavier without Lilianna at his side. Even though he doubted that she would mind, it still felt like he was doing something wrong.

Well, my motivation is somewhat nefarious in origin… kinda.

He had a perfect mental map leading to the training hall, which meant that he could take a detour here or there to poke his head around, but… most of the rooms he investigated were either locked, filled with strange devices or objects he didn’t recognize, packed with expensive-looking artwork, or were empty and unfurnished.

Bizarrely, he hadn’t discovered anything that looked like a guard station or servant room. Though, he did find another bedroom that looked like his… only twice the size and with a king-sized bed. There were potted flowers and ferns adding color to the lilac-colored room, an empty glass sitting alongside a wine bottle on the bedside, and a notebook and quill resting conspicuously beside them.

He didn’t dare step inside, a bottomless sense of dread filling him as he realized what room he’d stumbled into. Even though there was nobody there, he slammed the door shut and hurriedly looked over his shoulders, his heart rate spiking as he gasped for air he didn’t actually need.

The only places he did hear anyone else were on the other side of a large set of double-doors, which he recognized from when Lilianna had taken him to the armory. He had no idea how to open up the door—much less sneak past them—without drawing any attention.

Perhaps Lilianna already saw through me and posted these guards to make sure I don’t wander out of this wing…

Realizing it’d been a fruitless endeavor from the start, he threw in the towel with a sigh and made for the training hall, deciding to vent his frustrations.

He’d been so distracted by his irritation and the lingering thought of having stumbled into Lilianna’s chambers that he didn’t notice the person inside when he shoved the door open with the butt of his scythe.

Athena Ochros technically belonged to the Seven, but she’d been born with lowly blood, and the Ochros treated fifth-generation children like garbage.

She’d initially been sent by the Ochros family to serve as a potential mole, but Her Majesty Aphtangloa’s policies were vastly preferable to those of her kin, so she felt little obligation to them.

Instead, she’d found an unexpected home among the Exaltare’s staff.

The Ochros family was full of hardline Traditionalists—for the worse more oft than the better—and she’d been pushed further away from their philosophies by her blood.

Not that the Exaltare was a perfect shining beacon of modernity herself; she could be just as cruel when it came to domestic policy—the ghoul labor law debacle from twelve decades prior was a perfect example. The Sefer family came out of that one on such poor political footing that many speculated that the Seven might become the Six, while others wondered if it all hadn’t been a ploy by Her Majesty to further consolidate her own power.

From her perspective inside the Exaltare’s palace, Athena could see that Her Majesty had almost intentionally curried favor with the Traditionalists, as though she were planning something big that’d shake them to their core… But that was all beyond the mind of a mere foolish servant like Athena.

Her thoughts wandered through such idle hypotheses to fill the politics-shaped void in her heart, as she scrubbed the marble tiles within the Exaltare’s private killing grounds. She’d heard more than one whisper from the other servants of how particularly clumsy staff would be dragged to this place, crying and pleading, never to be heard from again.

Her Majesty certainly has been making a mess of this place recently… n-not that I have any right to judge!

Such was the terror inspired by the current Exaltare that even one’s blasphemous thoughts fled in fear. Like a trained reflex, she mentally corrected herself.

Of course, had she uttered even one of these thoughts aloud in Her Majesty’s presence, she’d scarcely have a moment to regret it.

But it was strange, why would Her Majesty destroy so many training dummies? It wasn’t as though mythril was a particularly rare material, but… surely she had no shortage of victims to torment instead? It’d been weeks since the last time anyone was dealt with, there was nary even a trace of blood on the tiles—aside from a few days ago when the room looked as though a second Exaltare had sprouted out of thin air and taken personal offense to the floor. Now that was a dreadful thought.

Replacing the tiles had taken her nearly an entire day, they’d need another dozen servants if Athena wanted to have any hope of cleaning up after a second sovereign.

Her Majesty had been staying cooped up more lately, too…

Now that I think of it, everything changed after that break-in… I wonder which family was responsible for that? To lead humans all the way to the top of the Transfixion of Heaven… I shudder to even think of what fate awaits the ones responsible, if they end up caught.

She shivered, standing up and straightening her back out as she dumped the mop back into the bucket and adjusted her coveralls. Given how all-seeing Her Majesty was, it was probably more a matter of when than if.

Fortunately, that had nothing to do with Athena. Her current job was hardly glamorous, but it paid well, and more importantly was safe—so long as she stayed out of Her Majesty’s way, at least.

It’s unthinkable but… did those humans actually manage to hurt her?

She didn’t know who they were, but for a pair of humans to cut down so many of Her Majesty’s personal guards, they must have been exceptional. To say nothing of those bizarre thorns that actually killed a member of the cleaning staff when they’d carelessly gripped the bramble while clearing it out… Could the Exaltare have actually been dealt a serious wound? Was she recuperating and venting her frustrations—

The door slammed open behind her, causing her to freeze in terror.

Huh!? R-Right now!? But I thought she was…

“Ah.”

“M-My apologies, Your Majesty! I shall do anything you desire, please grant this humble fool clemency—not that you’re obligated to, of course, and I’ll do anything you ask of me regardless…”

In a single, perfectly trained motion, she spun and prostrated on the spot, her dark blue fringe covering her eyes—not that she’d dare to make direct eye contact with the Exaltare. Though, she still saw a brief flicker of surprise on the silver-haired woman’s face… …was it just her imagination, or did she seem younger?

An awkward silence hung in the air as Her Majesty stood perfectly still in the doorway.

Was she expecting Athena to get out of the way? The intensity bearing down made the hairs stand up on the back of her neck. The thought of the tiles she’d just finished wiping down being dirtied again, this time with her blood, filled the maid with a vexing blend of indignation and raw terror.

After a long moment, her master finally spoke. “What are you doing?”

…Hm? Is that how she always sounded? No, wait, her pitch isn’t the problem here!

“C-Cleaning, Your Majesty!! It was my error, I’d heard you were attending a ceremony today and would be busy silencing the Idra and Mano families’ pathetic feuding over lumber cultivation. I’d foolishly assumed I could clean the training hall, so that it’d be up to your standards upon your return!”

“Ahh… I— we see…”

Was she disappointed? Angry? She wasn’t betraying any hint of emotion in her voice, other than bemusement.

Dangerous. She’d somehow gone beyond merely disappointing the Exaltare and had bewildered her.

“Do you intend on staying there the entire time we practice? It would be rather difficult to avoid striking you like that.”

Oh crap, is she saying she’s going to cut me down!? Aughh, Athena you really screwed up this time! Have you learned nothing?

Her relationship with Her Majesty wasn’t bad, but she was hardly the sovereign’s favorite. Still… given how unusually casual her manner of speech was, it felt like she was mocking the foolish maidservant.

She still couldn’t shake the feeling that something about her voice felt off, but this was no time to concern herself with such matters.

Just, stay calm Athena, think! How do you get yourself out of this one? I can’t just pass it off and say I’ll leave after a threat like that! There’s no way she’d stand for such insolence at this point!

“Have you… passed out? No, I— we see you trembling on the floor still. What is the matter? Do you feel ill?”

She sounded almost… gentle? Her tone was far too familiar to be wasted on someone like Athena. Was this a comfort she reserved only for her victims in their final moments?

She heard the matriarch pacing around on the ceramite tile, standing directly behind her.

Eight hundred years is hardly long enough at all! I wanted to at least live long enough to marry my way into some other family!

She felt something cold prod her in the back.

“Answer us. We’re speaking to a person, not a training dummy, correct?”

“I-I-I’m sorry, Your Majesty! I was merely too awed by your magniferousness to find any words!”

She sat straight up, legs pressed together beneath her as she stared at the doorway. If she turned around now… she would undoubtedly lose her head.

Her Majesty may have been more progressive than most, but Athena was still just a fifth generation nobody abandoned by her family. If not for the connections that saw her in this position to begin with, she wouldn’t even be fit to reside in the palace’s garbage compactors. She had no special value to the Exaltare, her death would mean nothing.

“And… that’s all?”

“Gh—! P-Please, state your wish, Your Majesty! This foolish insignificant servant shall gladly carry it out at once!”

“M-Mmn…” she sounded… disappointed? Confused? “Then go. Quit dawdling and remove yourself from this place. We wish to practice.”

“Huh? …I mean, of course! Right away, Your Majesty! A thousand thanks for your benevolence and understanding!”

Not daring to question why she was being shown such mercy, she grabbed her bucket and mop and rushed out, spilling a slight amount of water as she nearly stumbled over her numbed legs.

“Hahh… I sure hope she didn’t get a good look at me… she kept her face down the whole time but… Ah, crap. I forgot to ask what her name was.”

Lycoris let out an exaggerated sigh, sitting down on the floor and staring up at the ceiling.

His nerves were shot after trying to imitate Lilianna, his hands feeling jittery even as they wrapped tightly around the scythe; the idea of having to replicate her attitude and poise left an anxious tension in his shoulders. He didn’t think he’d been remotely convincing, but the servant at least pretended to buy it.

Perhaps the monster knew he would come here, with nothing else to occupy his time alone, and had intentionally set things up to test how he’d handle interacting with one of the custodians?

No, that doesn’t make any sense, why bother testing me when she’d be unable to gauge the reaction? Unless that servant already knows about me. I don’t think Lilianna had lied about keeping me a complete secret but… I didn’t actually sound like her, did I?

The thought of it left a sour taste in his mouth, the irritation at anyone finding him similar to that woman compelling him to jump up and drive the tip of his scythe through an innocent mannequin’s neck.

“There’s no way I sounded like her! I barely even remembered the overly-dramatic way she refers to herself! …Stupid stuck-up rulers, why are they all like this?”

He stared at the decapitated mannequin, putting a palm to his face as he felt his stomach clench. He already felt exhausted, despite having barely even swung his scythe once.

I don’t even feel like training anymore… but I already kicked her out. Maybe I should’ve just left and let her keep cleaning.

He felt nauseous. And slightly dizzy. Was he coming down with a cold? Did vampires even get sick? He’d never heard of it happening before, but it wasn’t as though Lycoris had much experience with them to begin with.

“So much for a free day… what do I do now? I wish Lilianna were—” he winced, shaking his head violently. “No, Goddess no! The hell am I saying!?”

Irritated with both himself and the humidity in the training hall, Lycoris flopped onto his back and stared at the ceiling.

“Ugh, this sucks.”


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