Alexander took a deep breath as he readied to impart his secret to her - something so deep that he'd made her promise not to tell Jorick.
"It's my fault. What happened to Bethina." He sighed and his small shoulders sagged under the weight of some burden, his eyes turned sorrowful; eyes far too old for the cherub face they were set in. "I tried to turn her myself. She agreed, of course. I thought it would be wonderful to have Bethina and her funny songs forever and ever, and she was so sick! But I couldn't do it - I'm not strong enough." His voice took a bitter tone. "Mother heard her screams and came to find me bent over her, crying. She finished it for me, but she said it was too late and that it ruined her. Mother said it locked her mind away because she stood on the threshold of death for too long, and that she will always be the way she is now. That's why I try to take care of her, because I know it's my fault."