I decided the Count's POV fit in here, so here it is x I hope you like it and please read and review :) xx

The Count's POV

He liked to tell himself that it wasn't his fault. Once upon a time it would have been very different - he would have been proud of her, learning from his teachings like that, but not for this.

He remembered Ingrid as a child, tiny and desperate for approval. He'd given it to her then, because she was his only child and heir.

And then he'd had a son.

It wasn't his fault that he'd been born in a century where to have a son was far more important than to have a daughter, so his reaction wasn't. He'd never kept his want for a son secret - quite the opposite - and Ingrid had seemed almost excited at first.

That changed quickly.

As he favoured his new son, Ingrid quickly learned to loathe her brother and he barely noticed but to praise her new found cruelty. That was last time he'd told her he was proud of her, until he found out who she was using her newfound skills on.

It had driven a wedge between his children before they'd even had the chance, pitting his daughter against his son for affection she would never gain.

The century he was born in wasn't his fault.

But he saw this coming, saw the desperation in his daughter's eyes as she grew frantic for some kind of acknowledgment from her father.

And he hadn't cared.

So as much as he'd like to, as much as he'd like to pretend, he can't forget that this is his fault.

His daughter is something he can't even recognise anymore and that's his fault, not Ingrid's or Vlad's.

And neither of them will forgive him for that.