The next day, we found ourselves marching down the town's streets, our usual procession of dismounted soldiers of the faiths-militant and wagons trailing behind myself and my aide. The journey took us to the seat of the bishop's power — an obnoxiously decorated marble white building that, if these buildings were people, did everything in its power to look just that little bit taller than everyone else. It was hard to miss even from a distance, as elaborately crafted stained glass murals painfully reflected the sun's blinding light right into our eyes. Its interior was similarly ostentatious, with gold-rimmed pillars flanking the wider-than-necessary walkway cutting through the cathedral.

At the end of the walkway was a grand altar, equally obnoxious in its gold filigree, behind which an important-looking clergyman awaited. Obviously, he sported similarly ridiculous gold trims on his white robes, fastened into place by a golden sash tied around his bulging waist so that one long end hung lazily over his gut. On his face was the widest smile I'd ever seen on a person, his eyes uncomfortably calm for such an extreme expression.

"Sir Arborough!" he boomed, waving at me like a fat kid with a toy. "I am most pleased to finally meet you! You're doing well for yourself, I see — good for you. Quite a few of your men are with you, no?"

"Yes," I said, bowing my head respectfully. "They've been quite helpful."

"Good! Good! Very good!" he exclaimed, clapping his hands together with glee. "Now, let's get you inside so we can talk about how we're going to handle this, shall we? I don't want any more trouble in this town, and the local militia is certainly not up to handling it. Not at all."

I stared at the bishop for a few moments, before nodding in agreement.

"Very well, your grace."

"That's the spirit!" the man said as he rose from his seat, hobbling away towards a comparatively simple door to the right of the altar. "Now, come along, let's to business. Your men will await you outside, I assume?"

"My aide will accompany me, but otherwise you are correct."

"Good, good."

We followed the bishop into a room, which, in keeping with its entrance's comparative modesty, wasn't as loudly decorated as the rest of the cathedral. Its varnished wooden furniture and tasteful use of silver accents were of note, giving the small chamber an air of elegance more at home in a modest noble's study. A large mahogany table could be found in the middle of the room, with two dark blue couches on either side.

Two others were in the room with us, taking positions of inferiority behind the couch Bishop Bagley moved to occupy. They were both bulky men, near-uniform in their appearance save for a slight difference in the tone of brown on their hair, wearing complete sets of pristine, glossy plate armour. In other words — the very image of the stereotypical stuck-up noble knight.

"Sirs Marcel Riley, Callum Kennedy, Knights-Commander and Knights-Captain of the Knights Pactum respectively," introduced the bishop, gesturing to me before guiding his hand to the couch across from him. I bowed my head in acknowledgement of the two and took my seat. "This here is Sir Oliver Arborough, a Brother-Knight from the Order of Faiths."

"And what does your order do, exactly?" asked the one named Kennedy, turning to face me with a frown.

"Let us not forget our manners, Sir Kennedy," I said, gesturing to my aide who took a similar position behind the couch I sat on. "This is my aide, Brother-Sergeant Gabriel Augustus."

The two looked the brother-sergeant over before turning back to me.

"To answer your question, however, we've taken on the burden of suppressing the more... malicious manifestations of popular beliefs. We are not be—"

"I suppose it does not include meddling in the affairs of other knightly orders, yes?" interrupted the one called Riley, whose words dripped with the sarcasm of a thousand jealous spouses despite his outwardly impassive appearance and tone. Suffice to say, I did not like him very much.

"No, it doesn't," replied my aide, unaffected by the snide remark. "We came here to help you locals find the vampire, just good fortune that it happened to be there when we arrived. Lucky we even captured the damned thing."

"Watch your language, sergeant." warned the bishop, sending a scowl his way. "Your betters are speaking, and you will humble yourself."

Ah, so he didn't like commoners. I knew my aide well enough to be confident he would take the haughty remark in stride, but I pretended to forestall him anyway with a wave of my hand. He nodded in response.

"As my aide has just said, we were initially sent to provide assistance to local efforts attempting to neutralize the vampire threat. We were lucky enough to have her practically delivered to our figurative laps as soon as we arrived, and it was greater fortune yet that we managed to capture her at all."

"Then that brings me to the purpose of your visit," began the bishop, adopting a vicious scowl as he spoke. "Why did you not kill it while you had the chance?"

I had no response ready, or at least one that didn't boil down to 'I thought she was pretty,' so I stalled for time. "I beg your pardon?"

"It was unconscious, vulnerable. The mercenaries and militiamen we sent failed at every step, even the Knights Pactum's own attempts were rebuffed. Why, then, did you not kill it while it couldn't fight back?"

I took more than a few moments to try and formulate a response, inwardly panicking while I stroked my chin in apparent serious thought, before resting it in the crook between my thumb and a curled index finger. I could remember having made up a reason to take her in after she'd gone unconscious, but it just wouldn't leave the tip of my tongue. From the corner of my eye, I could see Gabriel give me a look that asked if I needed any help. I took him up on the offer.

"I believe Sir Arborough said 'it's not every day we get to play around with one of these alive,' when we captured it."

"Play with it?" asked the one called Riley, raising a questioning eyebrow as the beginnings of a smirk formed on his lips. I could sense a misunderstanding brewing as the bishop nearly turned red, and I almost saw plumes of steam blowing out of his ears in his anger and astonishment. "Their kind are known for their seductive wiles, after all."

"Heretic! No wonder you've yet to kill the vile creature, you're under its spell!" screamed the bishop, turning to the two knights who seemed unfazed. Before he could order them to do whatever it is knights do to 'heretics,' though, I raised a hand to calm him.

"What I meant to say," I began, directing an accusatory glare in the brother-sergeant's direction. "Was that our order doesn't get many chances to learn more about the foes we face. I made the decision to take her into custody after considering that she had gone out of her way to avoid killing anyone needlessly, other than her former employers who we assume she intended to kill in the first place. I deemed it an acceptable risk to keep her in captivity until such time that my superiors can send further instructions, which, as I am sure you're all aware, has backfired terribly."

The bishop was still fuming, but I managed to get through to him.

"Besides, I am not under any spell," I continued, hiding the fingers of my right hand under the left to cover my ring finger. "I am wedded, and my wife anxiously awaits my return to my hometown."

"Oh, really? And how long have you been married, then?" asked the knight captain, now looking quite interested.

"Seven years," I replied with the first number that came to mind before turning to face the knight-commander, who was looking rather amused. "Though I fail to see how this is relevant to the topic at hand."

"Sir Arborough is right," agreed the knight-captain beside him. Sir Riley flashed his subordinate a disappointed look that screamed 'you're no fun,' before conceding to his point. "It is my assumption that you appeased the vampire to keep it under control, yes? That would only be reasonable after she displayed the ease with which she could have escaped."

Finally, someone smart enough to get what I was hinting at! I decided to amend my previously negative thoughts on the knight-captain and remember his name for later — Sir Callum Kenedy, was it?

"Yes, that was the only way I could spare my men from needless death," I replied, adopting an appropriately grave expression. "But now that she's relatively docile, I believe we can make better use of her."

"How so?" asked Sir Riley, clearly misunderstanding my intentions as he flashed me another amused look. No, it'd be more accurate to say he perfectly understood my intentions, though the train of logic he used to come to that conclusion was probably way off the mark. Or not, even I couldn't tell at this point.

"We don't know much about why or how these manifestations occur, or how their limits are defined. All our order knows for certain is that they come about as the result of the collective beliefs of many, so I wished to..." I paused, thinking of a word that best suited the narrative I was trying to convey. "experiment on her, and discover what her limits are. That does not even mention her potential use in battle, and I would much rather be on the right side of her superhuman abilities if the mess she made of our holding cell is anything to go by."

"So I heard," agreed the knight-captain, conceding to my point. His superior didn't seem to care very much for my reasoning, though, smiling like an idiot at me with an expression that very transparently said 'I see what you're trying to do.' "I can allow this if you share whatever information you can get about her kind. I do not want to repeat our past failures, not if I can help it."

"Aye, I can also respect your desires," the knight-commander chimed in.

To recap, I had the two Knights Pactum officers on board with the idea that I intended to make use of the vampire, reasoning that I wouldn't be able to outright kill her if I tried. Sir Riley seemed to think I was making excuses to bed Lenora in a taboo extramarital affair, which, while accurate to an extent, apparently amused him enough to warrant his tentative approval, while Sir Kennedy could agree on the logic behind it. That just left the bishop, who was, as expected, positively fuming.

He turned a full shade of red, furious at the way the conversation was flowing without his input. Like all ignored 'great leaders' do, he threw a tantrum.

"No! You will kill it at once!"

"Your grace, I —" Sir Kennedy attempted to ease the old man's ire, to no avail. The bishop continued to rant, his voice growing louder and more heated as he spoke.

"We speak of an abomination! We do not allow our realms to suffer the filth of the enemies of the gods, we dispose of them! We trample them under the heels of the righteous!"

We all shared frustrated scowls between each other, save for the bishop fuming as he stood from the couch, pointing an authoritative finger at all of us.

"I will not tolerate this any longer, I order you — ALL OF YOU — to end the vampire's miserable existence at once!"

He didn't really have the authority to order me around, but he did have the power to put pressure on the order politically, something I was sure my superiors wouldn't like. Inwardly, I was quite happy with this turn of events. I imagined Gabriel would be too, considering how things went exactly as I had planned. Still, though, I had a thinly-veiled mask of exasperated resignation to maintain, so I answered the two knights' weary, apologetic smiles with one of my own before responding in apparent concession.

"Yes, your grace. It will be done."