120 miles northwest of Los Angeles, in the settlement that would soon be known as the city of Santa Maria, another discussion was going on in regards to Sean’s rule of late. Awsha entered the room just as Baron’s servants removed the body of that night’s meal.
“I have some information you may find interesting” she began with a knowing smile.
“I doubt it” Baron returned disinterestedly.
Quickly hiding her scowl as Baron took a seat behind his desk where he had taken up the rule of that territory, unofficially of course; Awsha continued, “you know we’ve been getting a lot of new residents from Los Angeles lately.”
“And?” Baron returned in the same flat tone.
Trying to ignore his disinterest as best she could, Awsha continued, “it seems there are a lot of vampires who have been getting banished from Sean’s territory in the last few years; and from what I hear, the ones who are still there, like his council, are more than a bit unhappy with his lenient rulings lately” she finished with a smile.
“And?” Baron repeated in the same monotone he used at all times except when anger turned it into a serpentine hiss instead.
“There’s a very real possibility of mutiny; none of the Primogen are happy with him from what I’ve heard” Awsha stressed.
“Have they overthrown him?” Baron asked bluntly.
“Not yet” Awsha admitted more quietly.
“Then why do I care?” Baron asked curtly.
Awsha scoffed as she looked at him with disbelief, “isn’t striking when a Prince is weak the best time to do so? I mean, we’ve already waited nearly sixty years to make a move against the lovely new Prince; and now would be an opportune time.”
“Did you happen to notice what I’ve been doing here for those last sixty years?” Baron returned pointedly.
“But you’re not really the Prince here” Awsha dared, only to receive a chilling glare before he spoke again.
“By definition, the Prince is the eldest vampire in a territory; and that is me. Do you need a reminder?” he tacked on with a bit of a growl.
Forcing braveness in the face of his stirring anger, Awsha managed another sentence, “but this territory hasn’t been claimed by the Camarilla yet; once it is, they’ll install their own Prince, like they do everywhere else. And they won’t be likely to pick you” she finished more quietly.
Baron scoffed with growing annoyance and impatience, “and they’ve already installed one in L.A. I believe you know him well. How is my attempt to take over there now any different than it was before? Here, I’ve already established a foothold that will be quite difficult for them to shake if and when they do decide to try and claim my territory.”
“But I am still technically considered Camarilla. And my own blood line is full of Princes. I could legitimately get the throne to Los Angeles now if I were to get rid of Sean’s current heir; which would be that much easier now that he’s lost his council’s respect. It’s a good plan” Awsha insisted, mustering all the confidence she could when voicing any kind of differing opinion than the monster she had been bound to for nearly a century.
Baron laughed derisively, “so you want to be Prince now? That’s a laugh.”
Scowling again, Awsha continued, “They still think I’m Camarilla. I could get the throne and with my bond to you, it would be the same as you being Prince.”
“And how pray tell will you get the throne after having your servants and mine kill your own sire, and Sean’s?” Baron shook his head at her as though trying to explain himself to a child.
“Easy; we get rid of Claire and then Taylor makes me look like her and Sean drinks from me” Awsha stated plainly before adding, “this is the reason we wanted to get rid of Haven in the first place isn’t it? Because he wasn’t stupid enough to drink from one of his own kind, and Sean is. If Sean is bound to me, and I’m bound to you… it puts you in charge.”
“I’m already in charge, here” Baron told her with finality.
“But not officially” she repeated again, though her voice grew smaller yet.
“Oh and having the Prince of L.A. bound to you and you bound to me; that’s official?” he scoffed again, “besides, I don’t give a fuck about what’s official; I have power here and I intend to keep it myself, not go through two other bound vampires to get done what I want done. You’re dismissed” he finished as he shooed her away.
Awsha huffed angrily as she turned toward the door before adding one more complaint, “you could at least let me get rid of Claire.”
“Good luck to you” Baron mumbled before waving her away again. That just caused her to glare back at him once more before slamming the door on her way out of the room.
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In the years since the gold rush had caused the city’s population to explode, the werewolf threat had become virtually nonexistent due to the beasts’ hatred for any kind of civilization. Thanks to this lessened need to hide behind the safety of silver plated and painted walls and gates, all of the increasingly unhappy Primogen had since found their own havens in other parts of the city. Additionally, the need to be near their Prince was even less now that the meetings had also been reduced to bi-annually or only when urgent. The seven clan houses inside the wall were now only used for a period of days or weeks after a new Kindred came to the city, and just until they found their own home.
The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.
It was under a week since Octavia’s arrival when she came to inform Sean that Palmer had located a home for them as well. “Leaving us already?” Sean responded after she had entered his office to deliver the news.
“You almost sound disappointed” Octavia told him with a wry smile. Her Swedish accent was even more apparent now that they had exchanged more than just a polite introduction at their initial meeting earlier in the week.
“Well I must say that you’ve gotten me curious enough to hope I’d learn more about you before you disappeared from my estate” Sean told her politely as his eyes took in that eerie beauty of hers once more.
Octavia chuckled with the same evenness, “something in particular you wanted to know?”
Sean chuckled then as she took a seat across the desk from him, “you just aren’t what I expected.”
“And what exactly did you expect?” Octavia told him with another faint smile which seemed to be the only kind she ever managed.
“Another version of Radek?” Sean offered with his own little smirk.
“Well, Radek and I have our differences; despite sharing a clan” she stated simply.
“I can see that; I mean, you’ve been here almost a week without insulting me” Sean teased, “and that’s even more surprising, since you’re almost seventy years older than he was.”
“I don’t recall sharing my age with you” Octavia smirked in return.
“It was difficult, but I managed to find that answer” Sean admitted with another wry grin.
“Meaning Palmer told you or meaning you pulled it from one of our heads?” she asked pointedly.
Sean allowed another chuckle, “well Palmer did tell me his own age; but it was surprising that your embrace was only three years before his.”
“And only nine years after yours” Octavia replied pointedly.
“But I can still get the faintest read on you, so I assume that means your sire was younger than mine” Sean returned in the same pointed manner.
Octavia scoffed with another faint smile, “If you can read me, then I’m not sure what it is you need me to tell you after all.”
“Like I said, it’s faint” Sean admitted as she allowed another smile.
“So what is it that you’re so curious about then?” Octavia continued.
“Well, for one I wasn’t expecting a female; I’ve met very few female Ventrue” Sean began.
“Oh, there will be more,” Octavia told him with another faint smile.
“So you’re a Malkavian now?” Sean teased again.
“My clan is renowned for only picking those that are rich and powerful and respected; most females don’t fit those prerequisites… yet,” she added pointedly.
Sean couldn’t help an honest chuckle then, “Suffragette are you?”
“Oh I plan on doing a hell of a lot more than voting,” Octavia returned confidently.
Another smile from Sean, “My wife would like you.” To that, Octavia only raised a brow. Remembering his manners then, Sean reached for a bottle of red at the corner of the desk, “would you like a glass?” he offered.
Octavia narrowed her eyes at that, “Can’t; Ventrue, remember?” she told him, reminding him of that strange quirk their clan had. Every clan had a weakness such as the Toreadors’ entrancement when faced with stunning beauty. As for the Ventrue, they could only drink from one very specific type of prey of their choosing, or other Kindred; not that any of them would ever willingly do that unless facing starvation.
“Sorry, I always forget about that strange diet your clan has; Radek and I didn’t share a lot of dinners, or well, any” Sean replied with another small smile.
“Doesn’t sound like a solid friendship at all” Octavia returned wryly.
“Are you friends with many Toreadors?” Sean asked smartly.
“Haven’t met any of use until now” Octavia answered without missing a beat.
Sean chuckled again, “if you find me useful, that’s already a glowing compliment compared to anything Radek ever said to me in nearly two centuries.”
“Like I said, we have our differences. Radek was born male and into a family of nobility; so he got everything handed to him. He never had to worry about working for it or making any of the right connections. I had to claw and kick and fight my way to respect; I know the value of having the right allies” she stated plainly.
Sean smiled at that as well. But then he had to add, “Isn’t your husband’s last name Cantarini?”
“It is” she stated in the same dry manner.
“I’m not that knowledgeable about Italian nobility, but I believe that was one of the names I’ve heard associated with such” Sean stated.
“It is” she repeated with another smile, “like I said; I know the value of making the right connections.”
“Ah, so you and Palmer have a purely political marriage then?” Sean asked with another curious glance over her.
“Aren’t they all?” she smirked again.
“Mine never was” Sean admitted with only slightly less volume.
“I’m guessing yours was for love or some such thing?” Octavia returned, the smirk deepening at what seemed to be such a quaint thought to her.
“Some such thing” Sean told her with a bit of bitterness at her tone in reference to something he held such high regard for.
“And therein lies the difference between a Ventrue and a Toreador” she told him wryly.
“I wasn’t a Toreador when I married her” Sean had to point out.
“And therein lies the difference between a human and Kindred; well, most Kindred” she corrected with a touch of sarcasm.
“Ah, now you’re beginning to sound like Radek after all” Sean called her on it.
Octavia allowed a slight chuckle then, “I never said I wasn’t just as practical as every other member of my clan; I just said I know the value of not alienating those that could be allies.”
“So how did marrying and embracing Palmer become the practical thing to do? I don’t know many Kindred, other than those of my own clan, who embrace their spouses or lovers” he had to inquire.
“Most other Kindred don’t have spouses or lovers” she chided, and then continued, “and as I said, I started with nothing but this body; it got me a very rich old man who fell completely in love with it. He married it and made me very rich” she began as though reading a passage from an encyclopedia. She then continued, “he then died and I got his wealth but none of his respect; so I had to marry again. That’s when I found another rich young man instead. I decided I still couldn’t depend on Palmer’s age as my sole assurance of him not getting himself dead too. So I used his power and resources to find someone who could make sure death wouldn’t be a problem anymore” a slight pause, “that someone embraced me, and then I took the time to make sure Palmer understood exactly what his role really was to be in this marriage from then on. When he was trained well enough, I made sure I’d have his name and power for eternity. And here we are 250 years later” she finished with a satisfied smile.
Sean couldn’t help scoffing, “sounds very clinical.”
Octavia chuckled again, “but how many other marriages have lasted over 250 years?”
“Mine” Sean stated simply.