Miriam watched the pair long after they themselves could no longer see her.
Yet even as their figures turned a corner and disappeared into the streets now lifted of fog, she continued to stare, mouth wide as she clutched the newly penned letter in her hands.
Miriam had seen a lot of things over the past 500 years.
Most of it pages.
Within a crypt.
In a corner.
But even as a committed hermit, she’d seen things which defied all expectation by sheer virtue of time, accident and the type of people who moved in the literary shadows.
The last time she’d ventured out to personally receive her copy of The Prince Of Wolves, she’d instead witnessed her contact in the Winter Court being beheaded by an elven woman. That was awkward, not least because she also had to help place his head back upon his torso after she left.
Yet nothing she’d gleaned in either the pages of her books or the stunts of thieves in the Fae Realm compared to the sight of a girl several centuries her junior reflecting pure, undiminished light back at a prodigious spellcaster.
Mostly because she really couldn’t see much of anything at all.
It was really, stupidly bright. Even now, Miriam saw blindspots in her vision. But she’d gleaned enough to know what had happened.
This girl had shaped the air before her, each twirl of her blade so fast that the very afterimages had formed a reflective shield.
It was the most ridiculous technique Miriam had ever seen, matched by the peculiarity of the skill’s name.
[Summer Sun Parasol].
Though Miriam was never raised as a warrior, her existence as a vampire meant that witnessing the techniques of would-be heroes attempting to end her evil existence was a common enough occurrence that it could no longer be viewed as rare.
By now, she’d become accustomed to some of the finest sword techniques ever conceived. When it came to vampires, the shared thought process was to only use the most powerful ability available against them. And always immediately.
And yet of all the graceful strikes bristling with light she’d had to flutter away from in her time, none compared to one which simply denied it altogether. Miriam felt like she’d watched a giant batting away a siege boulder, sending it back towards the catapult which had launched it.
The speed was more than her eyes could follow, even had they not been blinded. It had to be an A-rank skill at the minimum. Perhaps higher, as absurd as that was.
Miriam couldn’t be certain.
What she did know, however, was that despite the use of high ranked skills, the girl was certainly no high ranked adventurer.
She hadn’t inquired, but she knew.
Famed adventurers carried themselves in a way which spoke of their vast experience even without the aid of their copper ring. And yet she wore no armour dug from the stolen hoard of a dragon, nor did she lead a band of merry admirers.
She had a single clockwork doll for a companion.
And a magical sword fit for royalty.
Which was fair. Since she was royalty.
Miriam looked down at the letter in her hand. At the black ink neatly penned on parchment partially singed from holy flames.
Dearest Mother and Father.
I hope this letter finds you well. My royal tour brings me to the prosperous lands of the east, where the ingenuity and diligence of our people are as boundless as the bounties they unearth from our land of plenty.
The days grow longer as summer nears, drawing forth the tallest of shadows. Yet we as a kingdom are united in strength and valour, and together we may keep the darkness at bay. Through the joy imparted to me by the sight of our verdant lands and brave people, I shall continue to strive forwards to make our family name proud.
Juliette.
P.S. I have uprooted a sister of the Holy Church responsible for the hole into the abyss. Please relay to Roland the need to tax Reitzlake Cathedral appropriately in the matter.
P.P.S. I have hired a vampire to work in our library. Please do not stake her.
Miriam read the letter several times.
“Pffft … ahahahaha~”
And then she let out the first true laugh she’d elicited in centuries.
Her arms falling by her sides, she faced the moon smiling down upon her and smiled back.
That was hardly the letter of introduction she’d imagined … but then again, when had princesses ever been known to be thorough with the minor details?
Yes. A princess.
She could tell. Not simply from the contents of the letter, nor the fact it was to be delivered to the official residence of the long line of Contzens. But because even up to the moment she left, the girl had never once sought to inform her about her royal title.
She came and went as she pleased, sparing little thought for anything else.
A true princess and her fancies. Just like in the tales.
Except this princess didn’t need rescuing.
Miriam almost felt ashamed.
She was a vampire.
A terrible failure of a vampire, yes. Yet an incarnation of dread she still was. To be a footnote amidst pages was almost galling.
Almost.
Because to instead be viewed with anything other than horror was proof that she may yet find a place more cozy than her crypt–something utterly unimaginable even when this absurd evening began.
To work in a library was a proposition far more tantalising than the fate shorn of books she’d imagined. And yet she’d also long abandoned any aspirations she had for sharing in the warmth of those she read about.
With neither a sister’s cruelty, nor a clockwork doll’s rather frightening eyes upon her any longer, she could escape to her solitude once again.
As was her intention.
The night waited, and few things not from the heavens or the abyss could find her should she scatter to the furthest parts of the world.
Instead, she paused. And not least because she wasn’t alone.
“Will you be taking up on the offer, ma’am?”
Miriam glanced to the side.
She blinked as she saw a familiar sight. Or as familiar as a sight can still be after several decades apart.
“And where have you been?” asked Miriam, hiding the letter behind her. “I do believe I last requested you to busy yourself until the morrow only. That day has since gone, as has a thousand more.”
Before her, the usually cheerful maid in her employ offered a deep bow, her expression one of regret.
“My apologies. I took a wrong turn and became lost.”
“Quite the wrong turn. But at least you’ve found the correct corner again. Did you at least accomplish what you had set out to do?”
The maid’s regretful expression immediately lifted. She glanced towards the distance where two silhouettes could no longer be seen.
“Not in the slightest. I wasn’t able to sell a single flower. The uniform budget will have to remain conservative.”
Miriam groaned. Even over the past 500 years, all she’d accrued were books.
Perhaps she’d need to consider gathering some crowns. Even though for all intents and purposes, the ethereal maid before her shouldn’t be wearing anything which requires crowns to purchase in the first place.
“Fortunately, my last failed customer was generous all the same. What do you think? She helped me with my new hair.”
Miriam carefully looked, then realised she had no recollection of what this maid’s hair used to look like other than vaguely smart. Now it was both elegant and complicated, fit to be paired with a dress and a dance partner at a royal ball.
“It looks far too impractical for your regular duties.”
The maid giggled in response, then twisted as she showed off her uniform.
A new one. Or at least significantly altered. This, at least, Miriam recognised. Those beautiful seams certainly weren’t there before. Her hands as a seamstress were never that fine.
“How did you fix that?”
“I didn’t. The lovely girl did it for me as well. Now the uniform budget can be preserved until the next calamity. Isn’t that wonderful?”
The maid looked pointedly at the corner where the pair had vanished.
Miriam could only feel her shoulders lower, the letter becoming heavier in her hand as she looked on in further disbelief, first at the back which could no longer be seen, then at the competently improved uniform.
“She had time to sew?”
“Well, she had time to stab.”
“Excuse me?”
“Stab. With her sword.”
The maid picked up an invisible weapon, then began to stab herself with it.
Repeatedly.
Miriam’s mouth widened in shock … and yet the fact she wasn’t nearly half as confused as she should truly be said everything.
‘Juliette’.
… Just who was this princess?
“We’ve been fortunate tonight,” said Miriam quietly, glancing at the shattered windows of the chapel. “It’s not often those who have died are given a second chance at life.”
“I think so as well,” said the maid, casually pointing at the poorly hidden letter. “... Will you be taking up on the offer, ma’am?”
Miriam thumbed the ink behind her.
To be offered a position in the Royal Villa’s library was a grand thing. There were few places she could indulge to her still heart’s content and never lack for more. The hallowed troves of the royal family’s own archives was surely one of them.
… Yes, even if she was supposed to be working.
Work. A novel concept, even while she was alive.
Yet if it was to act as the Pink Raven, then it was work she could do admirably.
True, she might not know how to dress the part of a common librarian … but had the princess merely wished that she catalogue books and dust spines, then she could have permitted any vampire to work in her library.
Countess Miriam Estroux was more than that.
She was a collector, a reviewer, and sometimes an editor.
As a tidier of shelves, she’d be competent. But as a custodian tasked with creating the finest treasure trove of romance novels seen outside of the very workshops they were created … she would prove peerless.
Literally. Day and night, she could function, with the sole purpose of matching the princess’s interests. And she already knew there were more scandalous titles than A Court Lady’s Indiscretion, Vol. 5, upon the horizon.
The princess had asked Miriam to serve the kingdom.
She would do more than that.
She would turn it … into an empire (of romance novels)!
The only stipend Miriam needed. A glorious opportunity to repay the unlife she now owed. If she could have that while granted the protection of the ruling family … then it was an offer well worth the small price of any oath she could swear.
That’s why–
Miriam broke into her biggest smile yet.
“Very well. We have a lot of packing to do. And you’ve reappeared at just the opportune time.”
“How may I help?”
“By not getting lost on the way to the Royal Villa. Although it’s discourteous to assume, I’m hopeful there will be no objections if I bring my own hired help. We’ve quite a significant amount of work to do to repay what’s owed.”
The maid bowed.
Both her creaseless new uniform and her immaculate hair sparkled in the moonlight. Just as it probably did beneath a gleaming sword.
A sword wielded by someone whose will could defy the heavens. And that probably also extended to the vampire hunters likely to visit in the dead of night as well.
And so–
For the first time in almost 500 years, Miriam Estroux suddenly found herself looking forward to the dawn.
She just hoped the guards at the Royal Villa would read the P.P.S of the letter first.
kayenano
Ohoho! Thank you so much for reading!
For audiobook listeners, the release date for Book 2 (Reitzlake arc) is currently scheduled for 30th January. I'll do a formal announcement when it's closer to the date! Yay!
If you haven't already, you can check out the amazing audiobook for Book 1 narrated by the super Brenna Larsen, who many of you will have recently heard as Navia from Genshin Impact. Of course, you can also read the fully edited and polished version of Book 1 on Kindle too!
Miriam watched the pair long after they themselves could no longer see her.
Yet even as their figures turned a corner and disappeared into the streets now lifted of fog, she continued to stare, mouth wide as she clutched the newly penned letter in her hands.
Miriam had seen a lot of things over the past 500 years.
Most of it pages.
Within a crypt.
In a corner.
But even as a committed hermit, she’d seen things which defied all expectation by sheer virtue of time, accident and the type of people who moved in the literary shadows.
The last time she’d ventured out to personally receive her copy of The Prince Of Wolves, she’d instead witnessed her contact in the Winter Court being beheaded by an elven woman. That was awkward, not least because she also had to help place his head back upon his torso after she left.
Yet nothing she’d gleaned in either the pages of her books or the stunts of thieves in the Fae Realm compared to the sight of a girl several centuries her junior reflecting pure, undiminished light back at a prodigious spellcaster.
Mostly because she really couldn’t see much of anything at all.
It was really, stupidly bright. Even now, Miriam saw blindspots in her vision. But she’d gleaned enough to know what had happened.
This girl had shaped the air before her, each twirl of her blade so fast that the very afterimages had formed a reflective shield.
It was the most ridiculous technique Miriam had ever seen, matched by the peculiarity of the skill’s name.
[Summer Sun Parasol].
Though Miriam was never raised as a warrior, her existence as a vampire meant that witnessing the techniques of would-be heroes attempting to end her evil existence was a common enough occurrence that it could no longer be viewed as rare.
By now, she’d become accustomed to some of the finest sword techniques ever conceived. When it came to vampires, the shared thought process was to only use the most powerful ability available against them. And always immediately.
And yet of all the graceful strikes bristling with light she’d had to flutter away from in her time, none compared to one which simply denied it altogether. Miriam felt like she’d watched a giant batting away a siege boulder, sending it back towards the catapult which had launched it.
The speed was more than her eyes could follow, even had they not been blinded. It had to be an A-rank skill at the minimum. Perhaps higher, as absurd as that was.
Miriam couldn’t be certain.
What she did know, however, was that despite the use of high ranked skills, the girl was certainly no high ranked adventurer.
She hadn’t inquired, but she knew.
Famed adventurers carried themselves in a way which spoke of their vast experience even without the aid of their copper ring. And yet she wore no armour dug from the stolen hoard of a dragon, nor did she lead a band of merry admirers.
She had a single clockwork doll for a companion.
And a magical sword fit for royalty.
Which was fair. Since she was royalty.
Miriam looked down at the letter in her hand. At the black ink neatly penned on parchment partially singed from holy flames.
Dearest Mother and Father.
I hope this letter finds you well. My royal tour brings me to the prosperous lands of the east, where the ingenuity and diligence of our people are as boundless as the bounties they unearth from our land of plenty.
The days grow longer as summer nears, drawing forth the tallest of shadows. Yet we as a kingdom are united in strength and valour, and together we may keep the darkness at bay. Through the joy imparted to me by the sight of our verdant lands and brave people, I shall continue to strive forwards to make our family name proud.
Juliette.
P.S. I have uprooted a sister of the Holy Church responsible for the hole into the abyss. Please relay to Roland the need to tax Reitzlake Cathedral appropriately in the matter.
P.P.S. I have hired a vampire to work in our library. Please do not stake her.
Miriam read the letter several times.
“Pffft … ahahahaha~”
And then she let out the first true laugh she’d elicited in centuries.
Her arms falling by her sides, she faced the moon smiling down upon her and smiled back.
That was hardly the letter of introduction she’d imagined … but then again, when had princesses ever been known to be thorough with the minor details?
Yes. A princess.
She could tell. Not simply from the contents of the letter, nor the fact it was to be delivered to the official residence of the long line of Contzens. But because even up to the moment she left, the girl had never once sought to inform her about her royal title.
She came and went as she pleased, sparing little thought for anything else.
A true princess and her fancies. Just like in the tales.
Except this princess didn’t need rescuing.
Miriam almost felt ashamed.
She was a vampire.
A terrible failure of a vampire, yes. Yet an incarnation of dread she still was. To be a footnote amidst pages was almost galling.
Almost.
Because to instead be viewed with anything other than horror was proof that she may yet find a place more cozy than her crypt–something utterly unimaginable even when this absurd evening began.
To work in a library was a proposition far more tantalising than the fate shorn of books she’d imagined. And yet she’d also long abandoned any aspirations she had for sharing in the warmth of those she read about.
With neither a sister’s cruelty, nor a clockwork doll’s rather frightening eyes upon her any longer, she could escape to her solitude once again.
As was her intention.
The night waited, and few things not from the heavens or the abyss could find her should she scatter to the furthest parts of the world.
Instead, she paused. And not least because she wasn’t alone.
“Will you be taking up on the offer, ma’am?”
Miriam glanced to the side.
She blinked as she saw a familiar sight. Or as familiar as a sight can still be after several decades apart.
“And where have you been?” asked Miriam, hiding the letter behind her. “I do believe I last requested you to busy yourself until the morrow only. That day has since gone, as has a thousand more.”
Before her, the usually cheerful maid in her employ offered a deep bow, her expression one of regret.
“My apologies. I took a wrong turn and became lost.”
“Quite the wrong turn. But at least you’ve found the correct corner again. Did you at least accomplish what you had set out to do?”
The maid’s regretful expression immediately lifted. She glanced towards the distance where two silhouettes could no longer be seen.
“Not in the slightest. I wasn’t able to sell a single flower. The uniform budget will have to remain conservative.”
Miriam groaned. Even over the past 500 years, all she’d accrued were books.
Perhaps she’d need to consider gathering some crowns. Even though for all intents and purposes, the ethereal maid before her shouldn’t be wearing anything which requires crowns to purchase in the first place.
“Fortunately, my last failed customer was generous all the same. What do you think? She helped me with my new hair.”
Miriam carefully looked, then realised she had no recollection of what this maid’s hair used to look like other than vaguely smart. Now it was both elegant and complicated, fit to be paired with a dress and a dance partner at a royal ball.
“It looks far too impractical for your regular duties.”
The maid giggled in response, then twisted as she showed off her uniform.
A new one. Or at least significantly altered. This, at least, Miriam recognised. Those beautiful seams certainly weren’t there before. Her hands as a seamstress were never that fine.
“How did you fix that?”
“I didn’t. The lovely girl did it for me as well. Now the uniform budget can be preserved until the next calamity. Isn’t that wonderful?”
The maid looked pointedly at the corner where the pair had vanished.
Miriam could only feel her shoulders lower, the letter becoming heavier in her hand as she looked on in further disbelief, first at the back which could no longer be seen, then at the competently improved uniform.
“She had time to sew?”
“Well, she had time to stab.”
“Excuse me?”
“Stab. With her sword.”
The maid picked up an invisible weapon, then began to stab herself with it.
Repeatedly.
Miriam’s mouth widened in shock … and yet the fact she wasn’t nearly half as confused as she should truly be said everything.
‘Juliette’.
… Just who was this princess?
“We’ve been fortunate tonight,” said Miriam quietly, glancing at the shattered windows of the chapel. “It’s not often those who have died are given a second chance at life.”
“I think so as well,” said the maid, casually pointing at the poorly hidden letter. “... Will you be taking up on the offer, ma’am?”
Miriam thumbed the ink behind her.
To be offered a position in the Royal Villa’s library was a grand thing. There were few places she could indulge to her still heart’s content and never lack for more. The hallowed troves of the royal family’s own archives was surely one of them.
… Yes, even if she was supposed to be working.
Work. A novel concept, even while she was alive.
Yet if it was to act as the Pink Raven, then it was work she could do admirably.
True, she might not know how to dress the part of a common librarian … but had the princess merely wished that she catalogue books and dust spines, then she could have permitted any vampire to work in her library.
Countess Miriam Estroux was more than that.
She was a collector, a reviewer, and sometimes an editor.
As a tidier of shelves, she’d be competent. But as a custodian tasked with creating the finest treasure trove of romance novels seen outside of the very workshops they were created … she would prove peerless.
Literally. Day and night, she could function, with the sole purpose of matching the princess’s interests. And she already knew there were more scandalous titles than A Court Lady’s Indiscretion, Vol. 5, upon the horizon.
The princess had asked Miriam to serve the kingdom.
She would do more than that.
She would turn it … into an empire (of romance novels)!
The only stipend Miriam needed. A glorious opportunity to repay the unlife she now owed. If she could have that while granted the protection of the ruling family … then it was an offer well worth the small price of any oath she could swear.
That’s why–
Miriam broke into her biggest smile yet.
“Very well. We have a lot of packing to do. And you’ve reappeared at just the opportune time.”
“How may I help?”
“By not getting lost on the way to the Royal Villa. Although it’s discourteous to assume, I’m hopeful there will be no objections if I bring my own hired help. We’ve quite a significant amount of work to do to repay what’s owed.”
The maid bowed.
Both her creaseless new uniform and her immaculate hair sparkled in the moonlight. Just as it probably did beneath a gleaming sword.
A sword wielded by someone whose will could defy the heavens. And that probably also extended to the vampire hunters likely to visit in the dead of night as well.
And so–
For the first time in almost 500 years, Miriam Estroux suddenly found herself looking forward to the dawn.
She just hoped the guards at the Royal Villa would read the P.P.S of the letter first.
kayenano
Ohoho! Thank you so much for reading!
For audiobook listeners, the release date for Book 2 (Reitzlake arc) is currently scheduled for 30th January. I'll do a formal announcement when it's closer to the date! Yay!
If you haven't already, you can check out the amazing audiobook for Book 1 narrated by the super Brenna Larsen, who many of you will have recently heard as Navia from Genshin Impact. Of course, you can also read the fully edited and polished version of Book 1 on Kindle too!
