She was a nanny who was required to care for a Tiefling child. She disliked Tieflings, the whole race were nothing but demons, but her lord ordered it. It was his daughter after all. The child rarely got smiles, save from her parents, rarely got a kind word, except her parents, and then a stranger came to the palace and gave the nanny a hard, cold, lesson in caring for children. One the nanny ever forgot, especially after what that man did, and now she had horns and tail, too. -- Anon Guest
Goodie Hardweather had to obey the word of her lord. It was, in some ways, her own fault for having a good reputation for fostering so many otherwise unwanted children. According to the good word, she took in all sorts. Half-elves, Half-orcs, even Goblinoids and Kobolds. She took in all sorts, except one. Tieflings. She just couldn't stand those little demon-spawned devils. Monsters, every single one of them.
But now, because of that good word, she had to look after one of those horrible little creatures. The young Duchess Merrimeet Goldstaff Crucible VonSchaulten, fourth of her name, had sharp teeth and claws to match. She bore crooked, twisted horns and a wickedly evident tail that lashed about at all times. Only her parents spoke of her golden skin or luminous emerald eyes that were slotted like a goat. Her parents were busy, running the Duchy. Which was why his lordship had sought out the kindest and most generous woman in the realm to be the young Duchess' nurse.
Goodie Hardweather immediately set about fixing the little monster to at least attempt to be less monstrous. Every day, there were rigid and firm lessons about being more human than she was. Couched, of course, in the formalities of also being a lady. "A lady does not permit others to see her teeth," Hardweather snapped. Or, "A lady would hide that tail under her skirts." Little could be done about the horns. Thank the many gods for the invention of fashionable hats. Elaborate braids could conceal the devils' points of her ears, but no power on this world or beyond could make Hardweather touch that black void she called hair. Then that damnable Cleric arrived.