The Nobility are troublesome creatures.
They are beings who subsist on “face.” Everything comes down to the name value and power they possess; even if they hold vast wealth, without an appropriate “background,” they cannot receive proper treatment.
Hence, they construct what can be deemed, from an economic perspective, entirely “useless” castles, lay down carpets, and decorate themselves in luxurious attire. Should they be seen as cheap from the inside, their status falls; if regarded as unreliable from below, they lose their influence; if considered unsightly from the outside, it damages the nation’s prestige itself.
This pride further leads to their adherence to the cumbersome formalities of decorum.
They must not meet casually, as they might be perceived as lightweights or as those hungry for social interaction. They only hasten when summoned by their own faction or an overwhelmingly superior one; there are even instances when, due to differing factions, a mere imperial knight can decline an audience with the royal family.
Hence, the aristocracy requires elaborate procedures for meetings. Letters are sent to inquire about schedules, and only then, if permitted, a herald is sent out – barely setting the stage. If things don’t go smoothly, it’s not uncommon for letters and attendants to shuttle back and forth multiple times before a meeting can take place.
In cases where a forced meeting is absolutely necessary, they prepare what might be called an “artificial coincidence” – bumping into each other during a hunt or accidentally meeting during a royal procession after being caught in the rain. Their politics are indeed filled with such tedious efforts.
In short, it’s highly irregular – for a researcher, holding noble inheritance rights from another country to be directly summoned, let alone treated with anything less than extraordinary honor. It’s the Martina Dukes and Thelresia who are abnormal. In truth, it should be entirely unthinkable for a noble to visit someone else’s room unannounced.
Indeed, even among family members, appointments are taken for meetings – so this is an inconceivable event.
“Are you safe, Erich!?”
To the point that they barely showed any hesitation over causing such an impossible situation, Lady Cecilia, a devotee of the God of Night Shadow, was deeply troubled.
Just a few hours of rest after overcoming last night’s chaos, she had been convinced by her great-aunt to take to bed. The manor was shielded by the God of Night Shadow’s blessings, preventing burning under the sunlight even in daylight, but it was still uncomfortable, so staying indoors in a closed room was the norm for any knowledgeable vampire.
However, Cecilia’s light sleep, a mix of the thrill of adventure and relief at the boy’s safety, did not last long.
It was the butler who, half-dead, had handed over the severely injured father to the castle. And it was Metilhit, clearly exhausted to the bone from days of sleeplessness, who woke her up.
Apparently, the chief maid had reported that the grand-aunt was using Erich as a toy.
Without bothering to change from her nightwear or adhere to the various expectations of a lady, Cecilia rushed barefoot through the halls, leaving the confused servants in her wake as she made her way toward the guest room where he had been sleeping.
Though she had intended to wait until the next night to talk calmly. Yet, she knew her grand-aunt’s lack of patience for anything interesting too well. It wasn’t too surprising, considering most of the Erlstray bloodline suffered from this “condition,” and even she herself, relying on divine blessings, often stepped out during the day for her hobby: military chess.
As she entered the slightly ajar door that had been forced open, what Cecilia saw was…
“The skin, appearing translucent yet possessing depth, smooth and supple, with an alluring hue that feels like sinking into a liquid upon touch, made one question if such a color could emerge from a living being. And the lines it created, even under a crimson toga…”
It was the sight of a boy with a deadened gaze attempting to seduce her grand-aunt – that is, her grandmother’s sister.
“Ah, Cecilia! What’s wrong? It’s still rather early in the day, but more importantly, listen to this – this boy here tried to seduce me! Should I still have confidence in myself?”
It’s not that way! Yes, outwardly it might seem correct, but it’s not that way. Don’t look at me with that shocked face. It’s not like I have an affinity for older women or anything. Isn’t that clear from your expression?
But, denying it outright here would be tantamount to lying to a noble, leading to even worse consequences. All I can do is look away. Though I want to explain, there’s a limit to what I can voice out of embarrassment when I know it’s something I shouldn’t do right now.
So there’s only one thing I can do—bite the bullet.
“Does admiration for someone depend on race or age? A truly remarkable one brings forth awe merely by existing. My expression may not do enough justice, but I merely attempted to convey this beauty in words.”
“Hear that, my dear niece! Indeed, the old hag here isn’t innocent herself—it’s a sin to be this charming to an innocent young soul!”
The delighted noble laughed heartily, while the young lady’s gaze toward me became colder in stark contrast. Oh, so this is it. Is this fake noble our midpoint climax in the battle? Give me a break, I’ve already expended my resources, and my mental integrity is barely hanging on.
Though it seems incomprehensible how such praise can make them happy, it’s still better than offending the one with the highest rank in the room.
Thus, at the cost of my eyes turning a little hazy, I managed to regain my composure and return to the matter at hand.
“Beyond simply witnessing such a magnificent presence and being granted the honor of admiration, I would humbly request further indulgence. Would you allow me the privilege of knowing your esteemed name?”
“Hmm? Oh, that’s right, I haven’t introduced myself, have I?”
As if having just realized this now, she pondered, tilting her head with her finger to her chin, as though in deliberation.
And then, after a brief hesitation, she introduced herself.
“Franziska. I am Franziska von Bernkastel.”
Carrying a surname, huh? Of course.
In the Threefold Empire, surnames carry immense weight, and only the nobility or those close to them are allowed to possess or use them. At the very least, something as light as a village head might receive one by commendation for stable agricultural operations over years, but it is indeed hard work to earn it.
In other words, even without verbosity, simply bearing a surname makes one of higher rank. Still, it’s quite a taste she shares with my favorite prose poet.
“Uh… Great-aunt…”
“Now, now, dear niece, just go along with it. Well then, your interest in my identity means you’re quite curious, doesn’t it? Of course, if you wake up in an unknown manor with nothing on, explanations would be warranted, wouldn’t they?”
Someone in my situation would have caused trouble long ago, Franziska said, chuckling and covering her mouth. There was something slightly concerning in the exchange—was it her casual introduction or did the young lady feel alarmed?
“This is a long story. Surely you’ll find it hard to rest in bed while hearing it? Rest assured, we won’t capture and eat you, so take your time to compose yourself. I’m feeling quite well today, so feel free to prepare leisurely, with special permission.”
Franziska’s expression clearly brightened as she stood up, and she instructed Kunigunde, who had thus far completely erased her presence with the attitude of “I have nothing to do with this,” to prepare her a change of clothes. Of course, even in noble manors like this, there are plenty of extra garments available.
“Also, this won’t do, niece… what kind of attire is this?”
“Eh? …Ah!”
Only upon being pointed out did Cecilia seem to realize her state; the blood rushed to her fair skin, painting it with a blush like flame.
She must have been in a tremendous rush to get here—so much so that she was only dressed in a thin silk underdress. The degree of exposure compared to the grand boomerang-wielding Franziska was negligible, but the semi-transparency under the light revealing her silhouette perhaps made it even worse—a subtle exposure that somehow seemed more inappropriate.
Her youthful, healthy limbs were entirely exposed, with the semi-transparent cloth hinting at her maturing beauty—a kind of allure stemming from its very invisibility. This contrast alone could be best summed up as… well, yeah, it’s pretty enticing.
It’s not my fault! In my previous life, I was Japanese. There’s nothing wrong with being drawn to something that seems visible but isn’t—the concept of glimpsing.
Plus, she’s at a middle-schooler’s level!
Thank goodness for fainting when I did.
“…”
With futile movements, her hands fluttered to cover her body, her overheated brain shutting down, words dying out. She attempted speech a few times but failed, opening and closing her mouth like a stranded fish before finally dashing off without a word.
The carpet was pulled and scorched with the force of her escape; the intense sound made it seem like the friction was immense, and the rising burnt smell seemed to echo the shame she felt.
“Hmm, how innocent. It’s incredibly refreshing, isn’t it?”
“Though I might be young, I sincerely apologize, but I can hardly fathom such sentiments.”
“Huh? Have you forgotten how many years you have served me?”
“Rounded to the nearest value, about an infant’s age, you’d say?”
“This one’s in the hundreds…”
Ignoring the silly exchange between master and servant, I shook my head and rubbed my tear ducts. I wasn’t so much trying to banish distractions as I was attempting to erase a very vivid visual from my mind. Honestly, I react more strongly to the modest concealment of a young girl’s physique than to any dangerously seductive display from a beauty—yeah, it’s quite a mental toll.
At each shake, the earrings clicked in admonishment…
【TIP】 In the Threefold Empire, the concept of female chastity weighs even heavier than in modern times; even accidents leading to certain incidents can often result in multifaceted responsibilities.
“Could you please explain?”
Her composed face twisted into an unpleasant frown as the niece hastily changed into a monk’s robe and scathingly confronted her great-aunt. Without waiting for the change of clothing to finish, the niece stormed in and questioned her with the fan ambiguously covering her smile.
“A very simple reason, my beloved niece. Since this old hag hasn’t lived to no avail, I feel inclined to guide you.”
The words of the empress lounging on a long chair were no different from the logic of worldly adults.
Adults were once children, and because they made mistakes in their youth, they lecture children and try to restrain them. It is precisely because they’ve done it before that they understand its undesirability.
“Your understanding of our blood is less than you may think.”
As Cecilia’s tongue prepared to respond, she stopped just in time.
The arched, cunning smile in her eyes wasn’t laughing at all.
“Blood makes a person, and people follow the blood they inherit. This is a timeless truth. Just as one gives appropriate work to appropriate animals—horse work to horses.”
Laughing without humor, she laughed until she shook, yet her essence wasn’t laughing at all.
The words detached from emotion spoke a singular truth.
People are made by their blood. That is to say, birth makes a person. Just as a horse used for agriculture cannot perform like a warhorse, commoners cannot conduct themselves like the nobility.
And so, commoners live and die in accordance with their blood. The nobility follow the bloodline they were born into, and the two bloodlines shall never mix. No matter what.
If forcibly mixed, tragedy ensues as surely as adding a single drop of filth turns a barrel of fine wine to waste, or how a drop of fine wine cannot cleanse sewer water.
“Since you like him so much, listen well, dear girl. Don’t needlessly expose your blood’s heavy burden. Blood makes, flows within, and overwhelms the will of those who carry it.”
If so, then one should stay silent about being part of the royal lineage. There are those who might accept, or even continue to respect one as a person.
But inevitably, the “otherness” of such a lineage will categorize you.
The more astute and wise the one recognizing you, the more this “position” will be definitively altered, even if personal interactions might remain unchanged.
Who has the capability to mingle freely with the most honored blood of their homeland?
Someone of the same noble rank could. History gives examples of loyal servants transforming into sworn friends.
But, he is a commoner. Unremarkable, no background, just a typical human youth. One of many, easy-to-overlook subjects of the Empire.
No matter how much the child treasures a shiny pebble, adults wouldn’t assign it much value. It would be taken away and cast into a river without much thought.
Once taken, the stone so dear to the child will never return.
One should treasure things that fit. Or, if impossible, at least make an effort to meet halfway and “descend.”
“Besides, being attracted to fleeting life is a disease all young immortals inevitably contract. A sweet, temporary sickness.”
Snap! The fan closed with a click, and the cold severity disguised by the full smile captured her niece’s attention. Sinister words like venomous snakes coiled around her mind, leaving behind unforgettable echoes.
“Don’t complicate things?”
At the pressing words, the young monk realized—yes, she likely still wrestles with her inner turmoil, and so takes such great care of the younger generation.
“Anyway, with this much warning, feel free to indulge in your feelings for now… ah, your father should manage the headship for a century or so. Live a little while you can. You’ll be more at ease as a house-born youth than as a princess.”
She reopened the fan and returned the smile to its apparent facade as the elder vampire stood up.
“That should be enough time to satisfy your curiosity and lack of sufficiency, no?”
She circled behind the monk, still processing the “venom” from the elders’ teachings, and placed a hand on her shoulder with a smile.
“See it as a present from your old grandmother for your hard work over these hundred years… Well then, learn quickly. The setting crafted by the playwright here took only five minutes; no cracks should appear.”
And so, she temporarily assumed a false identity, out of consideration or perhaps another motive.
Her name is Cecilia. Cecilia von Bernkastel.
【TIP】 In the Threefold Empire, unions between nobility and commoners are harder than a snake and a bird becoming husband and wife.
Amid fevers and headaches, while bemoaning overtime, I find myself with such a large gap between updates.
So, here’s a late update.
Apologies. I thought I collected enough resources, but it seems I’ve been struck down by some infection instead.
