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Chapter 155: Evil Turns A Page
🕑 Added 2023-09-17 03:26:22 +0000 UTCVampires.
There was no corner of any kingdom which did not know of their terror.
Their insidious presence, unholy charisma and foul spirits made them masterminds of plots stretching back since the first pages of history.
They were destruction incarnate. Intelligent schemers gifted with both patience and the lifespans to see their dark deeds to fruition.
Natural adversaries to law and order, some worked to satisfy their inherent craving for control, while others delighted in the simple revelry of calamity, watching from the shadows as the world spun to satisfy their amusement.
As spellcasters with the martial strength and resilience of a troll, those unfortunate enough to meet them in battle rarely told the tale.
And if they were lucky, it was because they were killed.
Thus–I held Starlight Grace aloft, illuminating the dreadful foe before me … and also the wide range of literature clearly being used to enthral me!
Indeed!
Bending down within a cramped yellow tent serving as the vampire’s lair, I assessed the litany of embossed texts amidst the endless covers … and I realised the true strength of my foe!
“Scandals Of The Incorrigible Viscount … Musings Of A Wedded Lady … The Duchess And The Tramp … Lost In A Knight’s Slumber …”
Both my words and my sword began to quiver, as though striking against an unbreakable shield.
As I cast my eyes around at the chaotic pile of books crammed into each and every inch of space like cream in an éclair, I glanced across covers more staggering than any demonic texts or treatises on sacrilege.
The sturdiest defence any vampire could use against me
Why … it was romance novels!
Adventure romance! Mystery romance! Crime romance!
Here, all the derivations of the world’s most popular genre lay gathered around me. Though a minor effort had been made to preserve genres within their own corners, the scattered books painted a picture of a group of gossiping baronesses throwing a tantrum for each time their favoured rogue failed to set their hearts aflutter!
Such a collection of low-brow entertainment …
It was … It was utterly scandalous!
“Fffft.”
Hence, why I absolutely did not make a disgraceful noise while sucking in a line of drool–an act of sloveness that I, as a noble princess, would never make!!
“The 3rd book,” said the vampire, holding out a familiar title towards me. “You may read here if you wish. I apologise for the unsavoury mess. It’s highly disorganised compared to my crypt. As a bibliophile, I mourn the lack of shelves. And also my beanie bag.”
I pretended to understand what a … beanie bag was.
All the while, I stared down at the offered cover in utter disbelief.
A Court Lady’s Indiscretion, Vol. 3.
Identical to the copy which had last seen usage tossed into a shrub. And now found in a tent. In the bottom of a hole. Freely loaned by a vampire.
Squeezed next to me, Coppelia waved a hand in front of my eyes as I attempted to recall the events which had led me here. Then, she picked up the book from the vampire’s hands and rapidly flicked through the pages.
“Done,” she said, cheerfully planting the book down on top of the nearest pile. “Want me to give you the short spoiler or the long one?”
I stepped back in horror.
A copy of A Princely Escort immediately landed atop my head. I batted it away, shuddering at both the lack of standards in this makeshift library, as well as my own handmaiden’s offer of casual betrayal.
“Ahaha~ just kidding! Don’t worry, I already flushed the memories away. Nothing in that book was worth remembering.”
“W-Wha–! How dare … well, I suppose, technically, there’s no inherent need to remember art … yet even so, culture is knowledge that as a handmaiden, you’re readily expected to know!”
“Hey, I know lots of culture! I know how in this kingdom, there’s a tradition that states a fruit slime must be rubbed every waxing moon, otherwise misfortune falls upon you.”
“... Who says that?!”
“Everyone? … Because if not, I’ve scared away a lot of fruit slimes.”
I was aghast.
So that’s why I never saw any fruit slimes anymore! To think she’d been frightening them away! Why, I needed them for punting practice!
“Excuse me,” interrupted the vampire. “I require the corner.”
Beside us, our host remained impassive and expressionless, her scarlet eyes filled with the same hollowness as mine 5 hours into one of my mother’s lectures. There was no concern there. Only apathy, boredom and a complete loss as to what counted as a typical conversation between a princess and a handmaiden.
Clearly a powerful being, even amongst vampires.
Why, she was not only confident enough to invite us into her unholy sanctum, but didn’t even feel the need to hiss as we raised our voices in the world’s smallest, darkest, but by no means emptiest library.
Indeed, such was the vampire’s lack of concern, that she merely proceeded to …
Fwump.
Flop on top of a pile of books, face first into all ten volumes of Scandals Of The Incorrigible Viscount. She made no effort to right herself.
After a moment, I turned to Coppelia.
“... Is the vampire dead?”
“Eh, that’s a matter of definition. I think she’s dead in the soul.”
“Naturally. Vampires have no soul.”
“Well, this one’s in the negative, then. I’ve seen that expression before. It’s the face someone makes after being put on spine cleaning duty one too many times.”
“What is … spine cleaning duty?”
“It’s what it is. You clean the spines of books.”
“Specifically the spines?”
“They’re the bits that get the most dirty. Especially for the books in the enchanted forest. A lot of splat to clean after a tree sees a tourist jumping the queue.”
I was halfway through deciding which particular sound of distaste I should be uttering when the vampire stirred.
However, it wasn’t to correct her awkward posture.
Instead, she reached out for the book nearest her face, then raised it before her as she lifted her chin.
Fwip.
She flipped to a page.
And then, she started to read.
For a moment, I did nothing but observe the bizarre sight. And I wasn’t merely referring to the vampire’s reading posture.
“Coppelia.” I turned to my source for all things strange. “What attire is she wearing? Some cultist’s vestments?”
My loyal handmaiden blinked at the pink thing she was wearing.
“Those are pyjamas.”
“Pyjamas? … Are you … Are you saying this is sleepwear?”
I looked again at the pink abomination, my mouth widening in horror.
Why, it looked nothing like the soft gowns I wore! It wasn’t even the slightest bit tailored to fit! Everything, bar none, was so loose that only daily prayers to the darkness below could keep them from simply creasing away on the spot!
“Yup. Those are pyjamas. Pink and comfy. Cotton and baggy.”
“... Baggy? Why do you use that term as though it were anything other than a gross negative resulting in instant dismissal of the seamstress responsible?”
“Because baggy’s good. At least when you’re trying to sleep. Loose pyjamas are great for rolling around at night. If they’re loose enough, it basically means having a portable pillow around you.”
“Why should I require my attire to resemble a pillow? If I wanted a pillow, I’d click my fingers and demand it from the maids. This … This is horrific! I couldn’t imagine being abducted in the middle of night in such slovenly wear!”
“I mean … is that really a priority while you’re being kidnapped?”
“Naturally! I certainly won’t rely on my abductor to possess a sufficiently varied wardrobe! It’s my own responsibility to ensure I’m dressed for all occasions. Whether being stolen through the window or escaping down a tree, all midnight flights require a certain dress standard to be met!”
“... Sooo, how many trees have you escaped down before?”
“Why, the garishness of the pink is an eyesore! And the fabric’s wrinkled beyond disrepair! Not even my [Dressmaking Needle] could hope to solve it!”
I shuffled nearer towards the fallen fashion dysfunction.
A traditionally unwise thing to do concerning vampires. Yet this one, in her baggy pyjamas suitable only for drawing scoffs from gossiping towngirls, was not in keeping with my expectations.
In fact, she lacked the primal terror those of her kind usually encouraged in others.
I leaned over her prone figure. As did Coppelia. I batted away her hand as she went to poke her.
“Excuse me,” I said, adopting a far politer tone than necessary. “But by any chance, do you believe your strength to be so formidable that you can instead disregard my presence and the threat of my enchanted sword? Because if so, I can prove my worth by basking you in the burning light of my righteousness.”
Silence met my offer.
“Haaaaaaaaaaah ……”
The vampire opened her maws, fangs and all … and sighed.
“Go on. Do it.”
“Excuse me?”
“By all means. Burn me with your righteousness. Or stake me. I don’t mind.”
The vampire scanned her eyes across the lines of her book at a slightly faster pace, seemingly wishing to end her existence at a natural stopping point.
“I thought life was tragic, but unlife is even more so. First it was my crypt, now it’s my tent. It’s clear you won’t be the only visitors, merely the first. I thought I could manage if I could still read my books. But this is untenable. Heroes will come seeking to root me out. My evil presence is an advertisement to adventurers everywhere. Yes, I see the ring upon you, as bright as your sword. So go on. Stake me and be done with it. To become dust is a better joy than being pushed around by that woman.”
I looked at her in utter confusion.
Then, I turned to Coppelia for assistance. As a resident of Ouzelia, she was far more learned in the ways of eccentrics than I was.
“I’m unfamiliar with these tactics. What is this subterfuge? Is the vampire attempting to deceive us with such a wantonly pitiful display?”
“Actually, I think she’s just tired.”
“I was under the impression that vampires couldn’t get tired. Why, are they not creatures of the night, their stamina for evil as endless as their thirst for deceit?”
Coppelia blinked as the vampire raised herself slightly, scratching at her tummy.
“I dunno … I even think this one’s pretty much done.”
“I … I see. Well, if it’s tiredness she feels, then I can endeavour to put her to rest.”
I stepped forward, Starlight Grace bristling with enough light to ward away even the abyss itself.
In response, the vampire raised a foot in the air, complete with a frilly sock.
“Wait a moment. I’m almost done. I refuse to turn to ashes until I find out in what manner Lady Moxen’s affair with the sous chef will be decried in the court of public approval.”
She flipped a page.
In that moment, the smallest hint of a smile played on her lips as her eyes took in the scandal amidst the lines.
I was stunned.
Why, I recognised the eagerness in her voice! The anticipation as she shackled herself to pages well beneath her vast years of learning and maturity!
The gloom briefly left her tired eyes, and in that moment, I witnessed someone whose joy spoke of standards lower than the quality of the paper her piles of romance were inked upon!
This … This was no mere reader indulging in a passing fancy.
This was a true connoisseur of low-brow entertainment. And in her posture of utter disregard to social norms, I discerned a part of myself which remained expertly hidden behind the history grimoires upon my bookshelf.
This vampire … was a kindred spirit!
And I would not be so crass as to impale a fellow reader halfway through a book.
Indeed, I’d wait until she was done … or at least until the first grumblings began. Few scandals were equal, after all.
“Vampire, for what reason do you reside in a tent in Stermondt’s mines?”
“Oh, you finally ask. I was actually wondering if there was some obscure law preventing you from doing so.”
I raised my sword. Kindred bonds were so fragile, after all.
“I was dragged here by a sister of the Holy Church,” she answered instead, turning her book to shield her eyes from my sword’s light. “I found her highly unpleasant.”
I reacted with the appropriate amount of disbelief.
Frankly, she could have told me that satin cushions in brown weren’t vile and I would have been rendered less speechless.
“A sister of the Holy Church?” I repeated.
“Yes. Sister Rieze. She possesses a consecrated crossbow, prodigious holy magic and unparalleled strength. Enough to steal into my crypt, then imprison me for some wicked scheme involving the town of Stermondt upon the surface. Rejoice, adventurer. Machinations are afoot.”
For a moment, only silence reigned.
And then–
Uuuugggghhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh.
I let out a silent groan.
“Dun, dun, dun~”
“Not now, Coppelia.”
“Sorry~”
I paused to gather my thoughts, then considered the vampire’s unlikely words.
The logical part of me instantly dismissed any words she said as a fabrication. Yet every other part of me wondered why mine was the only kingdom in the world where even sisters sought to earn an express passage on The Gentle Princess.
Thus, I creased my brows for the coming assault against my sanity instead.
“Ugh. Very well. Explain to me in five words or fewer what scheme would possibly involve a sister with a consecrated crossbow imprisoning a vampire in the bottom of these mines.”
The girl lying on her stomach blinked.
“I cannot. It is senseless.”
She flipped a page.
I could find fault in neither her answer, nor her adherence to word allowance.
Assuming there was truth to this, then there was little reason why the Holy Church would move against my kingdom.
At least to this extent.
I trusted them as much as I trusted a weasel not to tunnel under my marigolds. But I at least had faith in their ability to be discreet about their wrongdoings.
After all, the Holy Church didn’t do blatant machinations. They did insidiousness and discretion, winning over as many of my kingdom’s officials as they did a constant stream of followers drawn towards their donations trays.
Indeed, only one thing was certain … and that was their infatuation with crowns.
The Holy Church were equal to the Adventurer’s Guild. An insult which few deserved. They were long-lived parasites, squeezing out donations as efficiently as the guild wringed copper crowns from any fruit slime Coppelia hadn’t frightened away.
They were masters of patience. Artisans of guile. Professionals in the art of conniving.
But a vampire held in a tent?
This did not scream any of these things. Not in the slightest.
… And that meant right now, I could hear the rubbing of hands as some poorly assembled scheme was seeking to pry the coins from my family’s pockets!
Oh yes–I could taste it in the air like a burned tarte aux pommes à la frangipane!
I may not know the method! But I knew the stench! I didn’t need a vampire to inform me about the whiff of opportunism as odorous as the droppings of an undisciplined goat!
Whether hatched from the barnyard of a countryside hovel or behind the altar of a cathedral, my princess senses were infallible in this regard!
Right now, at this very moment, someone was seeking a slice of cake reserved solely for me!
… I refused to condone it!
“My highly trained senses for duplicity are tingling,” I declared. “Something is amiss. And yet for all my low opinions of the Holy Church, I’ve never heard of them utilising a vampire to see out any of their schemes before.”
“If it makes you feel any better, neither have I. And I’ve lived 500 years longer.”
“Is that so? And what did you do during those years to make the Holy Church dislike you so? Did you consume too many unwashed peasants, perhaps?”
The vampire appeared indignant.
Not enough to pause in her reading. But enough to wrinkle her face in distaste. As she should. After all, if she was going to eat humans, then there were far more suitable candidates for her palate. Even now, I could suggest a very notable list of nobility who … no, no, no, I simply couldn’t.
Why, the stomach ache I’d induce in her would be unthinkable.
“Please. I did not become a vampire to consume peasants. The thought’s as unappealing now as it was when I was alive. I became a vampire for the eyesight which doesn’t degrade no matter how tiny the words I read.”
I waited for the further reasoning for bartering her soul.
It never came.
“Did I hear that correctly? You became a vampire for the undiminished reading ability?”
“Yes.”
I carefully considered the truthfulness of the claim.
And then … I offered a nod.
My, such unshakable commitment!
So she’d chosen to live a life of undeath so as to never miss a word of scandal to the passing of time? If so, that made her a rare peer in the world of gaudy literature!
An understandable choice. Yet it came at a price. Being victim to a scheme involving heavenly conspiracy in my kingdom was one of them. A prospect which invited my grief more than hers.
After all, the Holy Church were more than purveyors of weddings and village gossip.
Not much more. But they were still guardians of artifacts more ancient than the stones of their cathedrals, shepherds of worshippers more numerous than armies, and keepers of more crowns than even dragons possessed in their hoards.
To have them as foes was a grim and uncertain prospect.
As an institution as old as the heavens they claimed to serve, few entities could prove a greater threat to my kingdom’s fragile economy. Boasting as much political capital as they did wealth, they were a force as vast as any empire.
An omen as black as these mines. Yet I couldn’t deny the presence of a junior celestial knight, doubtless summoned by a powerful practitioner of holy magic.
If the Holy Church truly were involved, then that would be … that would be …
Why … it’d be utterly …
Wonderful.
“Ohohoho … ohoho … ohohohohohhhohohoohohoho!”
“Um … ?”
Because if so … then they had stumbled at last!
Indeed, were I a lesser princess exiled from her kingdom, I would turn my eyes away and pray for a vampire’s cruel deception!
But I was Juliette Contzen, 3rd Princess to the Kingdom of Tirea, and where others saw despair, I only saw a means to right a wrong!
The Holy Church!
The instigators of every long-winded lecture in morality!
And now there was a suggestion that this holier-than-thou group was subverting the rule of law? That they were utilising a vampire for some inane ploy?
Ohhohohohohooohohoho!!
The utter fools!
The smirking clerics wrinkled from ambition and carelessness!
How heavy their crowns must weigh if they wished to be rid of them so desperately! Did they not know their place? Their purpose in the world? They existed at our leisure as merchants of banal advice!
How dare they scheme and plot like noblemen, when they did not even have the status to shame the lowest rungs of aristocracy?
I didn’t know the method. But I didn’t need to.
All I had to know was that by transgressing in my kingdom, they had stripped themselves of all privileges. No longer would they sponge off our tax rebates and highly affordable tenancy arrangements. From this point onwards, every crown they received would be scrutinised as the business they were.
The tax windfall … why, it’d be glorious!
Ohhohohohohhoho!
Indeed … whatever sordid schemes were brewing upon the horizon would prove their undoing.
Because by daring to test the laws of this land, they had now made themselves subject to it. No longer would eyes turn aside as sisters pilfered with their wiles and clerics pocketed crowns with their every word.
My kingdom was ever the gift horse being spat upon.
And for that, it was time to trample them instead.
Comments
Soap made by members of the Holy Church should sell for a premium so many crowns to be made.
Vega
She should offer thst vampire the librarian job for her castle.
