My aide had arrived just in time to find me massaging the back of my neck as I stood on the opposite wall from Lenora, who was now calmly sat on her bed as we spoke. Apparently, the guards heard the commotion happening inside and were too scared to intervene, the damned cowards. Instead, they sent for my aide and had everyone regroup in their barracks after donning their weapons and armour.

Naturally, my aide was a little less apprehensive about doing the order's work under threat of death, so he charged in with them as soon as he heard about what was happening. That was one of the best things about Gabriel — if I had to describe him in one word, it would be reliable.

"Everything alright, sir?" he asked, looking at the vampire's docile form before resting his gaze upon me. His face scrunched up a little when he noticed the blood all over my neck, his grip on his weapon tightening to the point it made his knuckles appear just as pale as the woman who caused my injuries. I stopped him before he could say anything more, though.

"Yes, everything's alright," I said, letting a tinge of exasperation penetrate my voice. "Had a bit of a spat, but everything's resolved now."

Gabriel sheathed his weapon at once and stepped through the threshold with some hesitation. The rest of the men stayed by the threshold, probably in fear of the vampire inside, except Agnes — who pushed through the mass of bulky, heavily-armed men many times her senior and size with commendable ease. She seemed used to doing that, and her being so different from the rest of her unit was a little weird now that I thought about it. Guess I'd have to ask later.

She ran to my side, bandaging up the wound on my neck just enough to keep it from bleeding without restricting my breathing too much. She looked like she was worried sick, and that was pretty adorable, so I gave her a few gentle pats on the head she barely even noticed. Before I could tease her about it, though, Lenora chose to speak up.

"If you touch her, I'll rip your throat out."

Agnes' eyes widened, and she turned to me with an apologetic look on her face before flashing an adorably threatening glare in the vampire's direction.

"It's fine, Agnes," I said, smiling reassuringly at her. "Don't worry about it."

"Right," she mumbled, stepping away and walking towards the door. "Well, I guess I should get back to my post then..."

She turned to me with a strange look on her face, one I could only describe as a weird mix between hope and pouting before leaving with a curt nod. I flashed her another nonchalant smile, if a little strained, and turned to the vampire as I addressed Gabriel.

"We've come to something of a compromise, I hope," I said, directing my snarky tone towards the vampire. "She's agreed to behave for the time being, at least until the Abbey tells us what the hell we're supposed to do with her. She does want better furniture, though — bring a spare bed in here and whatever she asks for, as long as we have it."

"And you're staying away from Agnes," the vampire added.

I could only sigh in response. Though that did put a damper on my plans to relieve some stress in the company of said fair woman, it wasn't like I didn't have other options to tease — like, say for example: this lethally dangerous creature of the night. Preferably from afar, with a really long stick.

I turned back to my aide, who despite having sheathed his weapon seemed to have something else to say. I nodded at him as if to say "get on with it," and he wordlessly gestured for the rest of the troops to exit the room and leave us in relative privacy. He approached me, handing out a letter with an affixed wax seal bearing the falcon-and-scroll icon of this country's biggest group of dicks in white robes — the Aserian Church of Creation.

"This arrived for you earlier today," he began, his voice grave. "From the local Bishop."

He handed the letter over to me, and I broke the seal, unfolding the sheet of paper and reading the contents aloud.

Sir Oliver Arborough, exalted Brother-Knight of the Order of Faith — I greet you well.

I am most delighted to learn of your recent success in the vile heretic's subjugation today, but I feel I must have you address certain rumours I have been made privy to by devout members of the town's militia. My confessional has received many interesting pieces of information from the day I first listened to the sins of my brothers in faith, you see, and among those were puzzling accounts of the events that transpired in your barracks this morning.

Specifically, I wish for you to explain why you have yet to correct the matter of the vile vampire's existence.

I demand your presence in my humble cathedral as soon as you are able to. Let it be known that our own holy knights stand at the ready to correct heresy at the clergy's order — at my order. I am certain you do not wish to antagonize them, however, so I patiently await your attendance.

- Bishop Agathon Bagley

I sighed the deepest sigh the world had ever heard, crumpling the letter up in a tightly-wound fist.

"Well that doesn't sound too good, now does it?"

"No sir, It doesn't," replied Gabriel, his idea of sycophancy apparently manifesting itself in the form of honest responses to rhetorical questions. I'd posited making slight changes to his no-nonsense demeanour more than a few times, even going so far as to ask him to tell me inconsequential lies every now and then, but none of it ever seemed to stick. Other than this, of course. "What will you do?"

I glanced at the vampire sat on the bed across from me, visibly tense from the letter's thinly-veiled animosity. I didn't fail to notice her claws poking out a little further than usual, though her response seemed to be aimed at the ball of paper in my hands instead of the usual target — me.

"We'll have to go see him, of course. The order's only able to operate this loosely because of the locals' tolerance."

"What of me?" the vampire asked, squinting her eyes at me in suspicion.

"Won't know, though we've already established that I'd much rather keep you alive."

"He's bringing the Knights Pactum into this?" my aide added, clearly worried about such a development. Our knightly Order of Faiths wasn't the only one of its kind affecting our kind upon the world — there were others, all of whom almost always owed fealty to some faction or the other. The Knights Pactum of Aseris were no exception in this regard, essentially fulfilling the role of the white-robed-dicks' military arm.

Ah, a village turned to heresy? Send in the Knights Pactum to burn it all down. A vampire killed a few of your beloved wealthy citizens? Send in the Knights Pactum to kill it or die trying. They were a brutal bunch, their devotion to their cause unwavering even in the face of some of the atrocities and gruesome sights they were known to cause.

"Can't imagine the perceived ease with which we captured Lenora made them too happy. If anything, the bishop's probably trying to hold them back until he can find a better time to let them loose on us."

"I see," Gabriel said, his voice neutral as he considered the possibilities. "And what exactly is the plan, then?"

"We can't afford to antagonize them, so telling him he can't have a vampire's head is out of the question," I mused, earning me a withering glare from the vampire in question. "I've already decided on getting as much utility out of Lenora as possible, but we can't exactly do that if her head's not attached."

"Naturally, sir."

"What if she escapes, then?" I asked, thinking through the idea as the two directed eerily similar suspicious squints in my direction. It wasn't hard to imagine what they were both thinking right now; my aide probably thought I was letting my loins steer me again, the vampire woman likely wary of my intent, as always. Her expression softened almost immediately, though, approving of the sudden shift in my narrative. "Need I remind you we're probably the only way you're ever going to live without fear of someone constantly hunting you down, and that I'm the probably the only person in the order brilliant enough to entertain the idea of working with you. You're coming back to us when we tell you to."

The vampire frowned imperceptibly at my rebuttal, raising her hands in front of her as if to say 'alright, you got me.' I sighed again in exasperation, a reaction I seemed to be doing more often.

"Let's say we play along with the esteemed bishop's request. The rumours have probably given him some idea of what she's capable of, so it shouldn't be too unreasonable to think she could escape, no? In that case, it'd boil down to me convincing him that I'm just stalling for time, and when he insists that I try and kill you off anyway, you escape when we make the attempt."

"That would work," Gabriel agreed.

"You don't like the plan?"

"It's workable, but you're missing something."

"The abbey, right," I conceded, remembering that I was still beholden to whatever decision they would make regarding the vampire in our nominal custody. "I'll send a letter over. Still have to convince them that keeping Lenora alive's worthwhile at all, so we probably won't be going into specifics with them just yet. Takes ten days to make the trip back-and-forth, anyway, so we should have enough time to get this all under wraps before we need to worry about them. Anything else?"

"No, sir." my aide said, nodding solemnly. It wasn't the worst plan in the world, not by a long shot. The only problem was that much of its success relied on how well I could lie to the bishop and whether he'd buy it at all, which I'm sure you can imagine is somewhat nervewracking given how badly things could turn out if the one point of failure (myself) buckled under the stress. This was a balancing act — maintaining the order's political standing on top of facilitating my interest in the gorgeous vampire I'd managed to convince to work with us instead of tearing us all apart, which she was absolutely capable of.

My heart would be very much in the work. After all, the potential reward could include some much-needed stress relief at some point in the near future, if I played my cards right.