"Mercy but murders, pardoning those who kill. Mercy tears at the fabric of justice, allowing wicked hearts to roam without comeuppance for their sins. Therefore, in the face of evil, mercy must be abandoned in favour of righteousness and equity. Sinners must be vanquished, lest the world remain tainted and impure. Worldly perfection requires this sacrifice."

Count Bleck heaved a heavy sigh, turning away from the Dark Prognosticus, which hovered before him. The front cover fell slowly, closing the book once more with a quiet thump of leather against paper. The Count turned to Nastasia, who was standing idly at his right side. "...So says the Dark Prognosticus."

Nastasia licked her lips but kept silent, opting to nod along to her master's speech. This didn't go unnoticed by the Count, who decided to prod a little bit out of curiosity. "Nastasia," he said in a low voice. "What troubles you? Have you something to say to Count Bleck?"

At first, the Count received no reply. Assuming she wouldn't answer, Count Bleck huffed and readied his hands, intending to flip himself away.

"Wait!"

The Count lowered his hands, swivelling to face Nastasia fully. She was very obviously on edge, avoiding eye contact and even fidgeting slightly. Very unusual, indeed, for someone usually so stoic and composed. "Come then, Count Bleck demanded. There are things to be done today."

Nodding, but still hesitant to speak, Nastasia finally made eye contact. "Um, about that passage from the Prognosticus," she began warily. "Is that... true? Is mercy really that bad?"

Count Bleck smiled faintly, glancing at the book behind him. "Of course, Count Bleck replied. Mercy kills. It says so in the book. And the book is never wrong."

"I know, I know. But, um… I always thought mercy was supposed to be cherished and such, yeah?" She grinned for a moment, remembering something. That's, um, what you told me when you saved me. Do you remember that, Count?"

The smile on the Count's face faded. "...Yes. Count Bleck remembers."

"A—and… um… and..." Nastasia paused as if the words on her tongue had turned to smoke, completely muted. Count Bleck cocked an eyebrow, gazing with a strange intensity as Nastasia regained her voice. "And... Timpani," she murmured with a waver. "Timpani showed you mercy when she found you that day, didn't she?"

Almost immediately after Nastasia uttered those words, the Count's expression darkened. "...Nastasia," he muttered forcibly, gripping his staff so tightly that his hand began to pale. "Nastasia. We do not say that name in these halls. Ever. Do you understand me?"

The woman beside him flinched. "U—um, yes, Count. I do. I just—"

"Just WHAT exactly?" the Count snapped, stomping quickly towards a rather frightened Nastasia. Before she could think to formulate a reply, she was cut off. "BE SILENT! That name is NOT to be spoken of EVER AGAIN! DO YOU HEAR ME?!"

"Y—yes! I h—hear you!"

Count Bleck heaved, stepping backwards and looking away. "Good. Now get out. Now."

Knowing better than to argue, Nastasia quickly fled with tears pricking her eyes. The Count clenched his fist, fighting back the welling pangs of guilt. "No," he told himself, straightening his posture. "There is no room for mercy in a perfect world. She will be fine."

But as he flipped away to find solitude somewhere in the castle, the Count began to doubt that she was fine.

"Mercy but murders, pardoning those who kill."
Romeo and Juliet
William Shakespeare