Two days after the full moon, Maria stood at her window watching the human workers tending the gardens below. Her strength had returned more quickly than ever before, her body healing with unusual speed after her time in the special room. But as her physical discomfort faded, a different kind of pain grew stronger.

  These people needed her. They needed the Light's message of hope, just like the resources at Blood Farm #17 had needed it. She had been here for days now, receiving kindness and comfort, yet she had done nothing to share the promise of eventual redemption with those who served in this demon's house.

  Maria's fingers went to the wooden cross around her neck. She had been selfish, thinking only of her own confusion and fears. The Light called her to serve others, not just to receive.

  Making up her mind, Maria left her room and headed downstairs. She had seen the workers gather during their midday meal in a courtyard near the kitchen gardens. That would be the perfect pce to bring them the Light's message.

  As she walked through the grand hallways of the estate, Maria rehearsed the words of hope she had spoken so many times before. The promise that suffering had purpose. That the demons would not rule forever. That one day, when all sins were cleansed through blood and pain, the Light would return and bring freedom.

  The kitchen courtyard bustled with activity when Maria arrived. About twenty workers sat on benches and low walls, eating their midday meal and talking quietly among themselves. They looked up in surprise as Maria entered, conversations falling silent.

  "Good day," Maria said with a gentle smile, moving to the center of the courtyard where everyone could see her. "May I speak with you all for a moment?"

  A middle-aged woman who seemed to be in charge of the kitchen nodded cautiously. "Of course, Miss Maria."

  Maria took a deep breath, her hands csping her wooden cross for strength. "I come to bring you hope," she began, her voice clear and earnest in the sudden silence. "Hope that has kept me alive through dark times. Hope that can keep your souls bright even while demons drink your blood."

  Several workers exchanged quick gnces. An older man in gardener's clothes coughed softly, while a young kitchen maid looked down at her hands, pressing her lips together firmly.

  Maria didn't notice their reactions, too focused on her message. "The Light sent me here to tell you that your suffering is not forever. The demons came to punish us, yes. Our blood pays for sins, yes. But when enough blood is paid, when our souls are clean again, the Light will return."

  Her voice grew stronger as she spoke, falling into the familiar rhythms of the sermons she had given countless times before. "The demons think they rule forever, but they are only tools of the Light's punishment. When our punishment is complete, the demons will be driven back to the dark pces they came from."

  A young stable hand in the back made a choking sound that he quickly turned into a cough. The kitchen matron shot him a warning look.

  "I know it's hard," Maria continued, her eyes shining with sincerity. "I know the demons seem all-powerful. But they are not. They are bound by the Light's rules. That's why they need our blood. That's why they keep us alive instead of killing us all."

  She stepped forward, reaching out her hands in a gesture of inclusion. "We are more than just blood bags. We are children of the Light, paying our debt. And one day, we will be free. The demons will turn to dust. The farms will fall. The chains will break."

  Maria touched her wooden cross again. "Until that day comes, we must stay strong. We must help each other. We must remember that every drop of blood brings us closer to freedom."

  She looked around at the silent workers, her heart full of love for these strangers who suffered under demonic rule just as she had. "I know the demon of this house seems different. He gives nice food and soft beds. He doesn't hurt you the way other demons do. But don't be fooled—demons are demons. They feed on our punishment."

  An older woman in the front row had tears streaming down her weathered cheeks. Maria knelt beside her, taking her hands gently. "Don't cry, sister. The Light sees your pain. Every tear brings the day of freedom closer."

  The woman squeezed Maria's hands tightly but couldn't seem to speak.

  "I will pray with anyone who wishes," Maria offered, looking around the courtyard. "I will share the Promise with those who haven't heard it. The Church of Eternal Light welcomes all who seek hope in darkness."

  The kitchen matron stepped forward after a long moment of silence. "Thank you, Miss Maria, for... sharing your faith with us." Her voice was carefully controlled. "I'm sure everyone appreciates your concern for their souls."

  "It's not my concern," Maria said simply. "It's the Light's concern. The Light loves you all, even while you're being punished."

  "Yes, well," the matron cleared her throat. "The lunch hour is nearly over, and people must return to their duties."

  Maria nodded in understanding. "Of course. Work is part of our punishment too. But I'll be here tomorrow at the same time, for anyone who wants to hear more about the Light's promise."

  As the workers began dispersing, Maria noticed their varied reactions. Some avoided her eyes, their expressions unreadable. Others gave her small, awkward smiles. A few looked genuinely touched, particurly the older ones who had worked in blood farms before coming to this estate.

  What Maria couldn't fully comprehend was the complexity behind their responses. Had she known what the workers had been told about her before her arrival, she might have understood better.

  The previous week, Morris had gathered the human staff to prepare them for Maria's potential preaching.

  "Miss Maria comes from a blood farm with very different conditions than our household," he had expined. "She has developed unique religious beliefs that include viewing vampires as demons sent to punish humanity."

  A young maid had giggled, quickly covering her mouth.

  "This is not a matter for ughter," Morris had said firmly. "Her beliefs, while mistaken, come from genuine trauma and provide her with necessary comfort. If she attempts to share these beliefs with you, you are to listen respectfully."

  "But sir," a footman had asked, "what about when she calls the Viscount a demon?"

  "You will not correct her," Morris had instructed. "Father Gabriel—the Viscount—has requested that Miss Maria be allowed to come to understanding gradually. Any attempt to force recognition upon her could cause significant distress."

  "So we just... pretend vampires are demons?" the stable master had asked incredulously.

  "You neither confirm nor deny her beliefs," Morris had crified. "You simply listen with respect to someone who has survived great hardship. Can you all manage that basic courtesy?"

  They had all nodded their agreement, though few had understood the depths of what would be asked of them until now.

  As Maria left the courtyard, Sarah approached from a side entrance. She had been watching from a discreet distance, as Morris had instructed her to do if Maria began preaching.

  "Miss Maria," she said with a gentle smile. "That was a very passionate sermon."

  Maria looked at her with earnest eyes. "I had to share the Light's promise. People need hope, especially in a demon's house."

  Sarah nodded, carefully keeping her expression neutral. "I understand. The workers here have been very fortunate, though. The Viscount is... different from other vampires."

  "That's what makes him dangerous," Maria replied with absolute conviction. "Kind demons trick you into forgetting they're still demons. But Father Gabriel understands. He serves the Light even while living among demons."

  Sarah opened her mouth as if to say something, then seemed to think better of it. "Father Gabriel would like to speak with you, if you're feeling well enough. He's in the library."

  Maria's face lit up. "Yes, I'd like that very much. I have so many questions for him."

  As they walked toward the library, neither of them noticed the kitchen matron watching them go, wiping tears of complicated emotion from her eyes. Tears that came not from fear of demons or hope of redemption, but from witnessing such pure belief in a world that had never deserved it.

  In the shadows of a nearby hallway, Gabriel himself stood motionless, having heard every word of Maria's sermon. His expression was unreadable as he turned and headed back to the library, moving with the silent grace of a vampire who had just been reminded of exactly how the world saw his kind—and how much work y ahead if he hoped to build any bridge across that divide.