Leona, a small child from Wallachia, had witnessed the burning of Dracula's wife, Lisa Tepes that very morning, and Dracula's rageful, grief-stricken declaration to exterminate the human race as payment for the blood spilled… The only innocent blood in all of humanity, as he saw it.
Now, Leona stood trembling with fear before Dracula's castle, ready and willing to pay for the crimes of her people. His justice will come swiftly for us, the girl thought, but even the blood of the whole human race may not ease his pain, nor sate his anger.
So, though terror tore at her heart, she knocked upon his door, her eyes cast down in shame.
As Dracula opened the heavy door, glaring down at her, the child refused to meet his eyes. Shaking with determination, she spoke, though she knew each word she uttered was another gamble against Dracula's rage… with her very life at stake.
"Sir, I know you are grieving Lisa, and do not wish to hear from a human girl right now. But to leave these words unspoken would be to dishonor her memory."
Dracula's crimson eyes narrowed, his hatred palpable, but Leona was undeterred. She knew what her village had done… what she had been part of.
She refused to lift her gaze from the dirt as she continued, and though her eyes remained trained on the earth she knew she was seconds from rejoining, her voice rang with conviction. She knew that, whatever terrible fate Dracula had in store for her should his anger flare, she would deserve every agonizing moment, because she hadn't spoken out against the terrible injustice that had cost an innocent woman her life. But, she thought, others outside of Wallachia had no choice; they didn't even know the grave sins we committed, so they shouldn't be seen as evil for their inaction.
"We did a terrible thing by not speaking up for your wife. It was an act of unspeakable wickedness and cowardice. Even though no one would listen to an outcast like me, I should have spoken out anyway. We are truly evil, and deserving of your wrath, but those outside of Wallachia had no hand in this. They didn't even know what was happening in Wallachia. So, to hold the entire human race responsible for Lisa's murder would be to drag her memory through the mud. Lisa, herself, was proof that not all of humanity is the same. We cannot know what others outside Wallachia would have done in our place. Perhaps they'd have been braver and stood up for her. But to punish the whole of humanity for one village's cowardice would sully your wife's memory."
The girl risked a glimpse at Dracula's face, ready to accept whatever horrible fate he may deem her worthy of suffering. His gaze had softened, somewhat, but his tone was still harsh and cruel as he addressed her.
But after a moment of hesitation, she risked her neck one final time, pleading for mercy not for the guilty, but for the innocent. She knew Dracula saw no innocents in humanity anymore, but she thought if he were able to see justice for his beloved, maybe, he could begin to heal the aching, bleeding wound her death had left in his heart.
"Please, if you must shed blood to assuage your grief, I understand. But I implore you to punish the guilty, and leave the rest of humanity in peace. Don't stain the memory of the woman you love with the blood of those who never once harmed her. If you must kill, then destroy Greshet. But do not make all of human life pay for the sins, however grievous, of but one village."
Falling to her knees before him, tears streaming down her face in shame, the child unknowingly spoke the words that both stunned and angered the grieving vampire, the very same words that his wife had said when they first met. "You can start with me."