Affirmed

Execution

Seeing Abbas' head on the floor didn't upset Camilla. She expected him to be first to fall. Charlotte's rapidly rising shoulders, sharp inhales and open hands told Camilla that her anger was barely controlled. Excellent. Getting her off balance worked in Camilla's favor.

"We were just talking about you," Camilla straightened herself on the couch.

"Charlotte?" Robert's eyes were wide in alarm like he was seeing a ghost.

Charlotte wisely kept her eyes on Camilla and Ahma. "Dad, Mom."

"Would you prefer to tell them how we got here or shall I?" Camilla tilted her head. 

Charlotte stepped forward. Ahma did the same and Camilla's sword floated closer to Rebecca's eye.

"I would not do that," Camilla advised. "No one is fighting. Have a seat."

A wooden chair from the dining room floated from behind Camilla and planted itself next to Charlotte. Camilla motioned towards it like Charlotte was an old friend. Charlotte kept Ahma in her sight but Camilla could tell that her golden eyes were locked on her. Camilla respected that.

Camilla snorted. "We are talking now. You will know when we start fighting."

Charlotte's barely calm demeanor was exactly what Camilla wanted. If this Regent was as powerful as Vlad, Camilla would not wait for her to learn of her other abilities...especially when there were some she did not know. Coming to her childhood home wasn't random. Camilla learned who Charlotte was before the Hand made their move. Camilla anticipated that her presence in Charlotte's childhood home and threatening her parents would lead to a lack of self-control. But their strained relationship made Camilla's plan much easier—she just had to fan the anger Charlotte already had.

When the Regent did sit, Ahma stepped back behind the couch Camilla sat on. When Camilla sat back, she heard the ripple-like sound of Ahma's shadow.

Camilla folded her hands. "Charlotte is what most vampires would call a Regent. The most powerful vampire in the world they would say. Rebecca, don't you think that's funny? She wasn't pretty enough for your circles and now she's an outlier with ours."

Camilla shot a look of approval at the Costas but watched Charlotte with her peripheral vison. Her face was neutral but the blood rain intensified.

"Not that she earned it fairly," Camilla continued. She gave Robert and Rebecca a look of pity. Rebecca's eyes were fixed on the sword. Robert tightened his grip on Rebecca and her chair, doing his best not to look at his daughter. They were more concerned about her than Charlotte. Wise.

"You see, the mate of a previous Regent turned her into a capable killer. Charlotte, how many did you kill to become Regent?"

Charlotte stared at her.

"I already know," Camilla said. "But I'd like your parents to hear it."

The Regent scowled. Robert and Rebecca risked a glance back at her.

"13," she said after a moment of tense silence.

"Just because a weaker vampire told her to do so," Camilla continued. "Then let's not forget the slaughter at her first Turn. It's just like you said Rebecca: no aim, no goal, just gallivanting. Instead of creating the environment for our kind to flourish, she fled, allowing herself to grow weaker and weaker, locking herself away, working on silly art projects, not appreciating anything she received—not blood, the title, even the life you sought to give her.