“No, I don’t think you are aware what entails to me to accept you as my servant of sorts and this… courtship,” Integra affirmed with an unwavering gaze and a firm voice. “While it’s true, my motivation is what you say because I hold not such feelings towards you. I am compromising the role that had been his to you and thus all he had meant in my life.”
She crossed her arms. “Alucard was the moniker my father baptised him with. He wasn’t your son, he was the Count, my Count and he finally found release from his curse.” She loathed admitting how much it hurt her to see him smiling in pure bliss when he bided farewell.
“Do you believe yourself the damaged party? Your own intentions aren’t as selfless,” she remarked. “Your interest in my person is based solely in how convinced you are I am this dead wife of yours regardless of the type of woman I have become. If I was another person, you wouldn’t care as long you see her supposed soul in a familiar face.” His idea of romance was, to put it bluntly, disturbing even to her. “Learn to appreciate me for what I am and I may grow to do the same, one day.”