Of Dusk And Roses

02. the return

BLOOD, to her, was power.

Viktoir stared aimlessly at the glass filled with the red liquid in front of her. The night had been almost intolerable, but thankfully, it was almost over. She just had to power through the headaches, her mother's incessant rambling, and the pesky flashes of memories.

She had too many memories for an eighteen-year-old. Most of them were never really hers.

"Attention, please."

Three heads whipped towards the right end of the mahogany table. The sisters stared at their mother. That night, she organized her blonde hair up and decided to wear a black bodycon dress. With that knowing smirk she always had, she took a sip of the blood in her glass. She didn't even look a day over thirty as the chandelier lights complimented her glowing skin.

Viktoir supposed Iezabel would be the eldest now, even if she was born second. She inherited the mother's somber aura, but her hair was as russet as Viktoir's, just like long, chocolate waves. Serafina, the sister born before Viktoir, looked a lot like their mother. Her long face and green eyes would have earned the adoration of everyone under the realm if she wasn't such a lone wolf. Tonight, the two of them were wearing black Maxi dresses and both wore their hair in crown braids. Viktoir almost scoffed at the humor that was her family, but she held herself back, because as she always said, they were family.

Viktoir Moscovici.

That was her name, and it was, no doubt, beyond powerful.

Anyone who dared to defy her had already dug their grave six feet under the ground, for she was the crown princess of the royal family of purebloods. She knew of the weight the title entailed, and she would be nothing less than that. She was the future queen.

"Viktoir," Catalina Moscovici spoke again, finally matching her green irises with Viktoir's amber ones.

"I really don't understand why you've given me such a name, Mother. I thought you were pretty adamant that we attune to this new age constructed by the humans. Well, mostly by them, anyway," she told her before taking a sip from her own glass. "Couldn't it be something more modern?"

"The name suits you just fine. Besides, there are more important things." Their mother rolled her eyes. "Like news that Sebastian will be arriving here tomorrow." She paused and waited for her reaction. Viktoir said nothing. "By the way, that off-shoulder dress is a good choice. I've been telling you for years that black looks good on you. You should wear one tomorrow."

Her breath hitched for a moment.

She kept her composure as she cut the piece of turkey on her plate. "I still don't see why this engagement has to happen. You haven't even told me why the kingdom needs a celebration. To subdue what, exactly?"

"Why are you so uptight, Vik?" Iezabel asked, making a funny face as if she couldn't believe the way her sister was acting. "Aren't you even the least excited to see Sebastian again? You're the best of friends."

Serafina butt in. "You know how she is whenever we talk about Seb since the event last summer."

Viktoir scowled at her. "I didn't say that I am upset to see him. Sebastian is one of my dearest friends. A few months away from each other mean nothing. I'm only concerned about the problem that Mother and Father here have been keeping from us. I want to know the reason as to why the sudden announcement of this engagement of his and Iezabel needs to happen."

A chuckle from the other end of the table stopped her from saying another rant. All of them turned to Demetrius Moscovici and paid attention, only because this was the first time that he had reacted to anything that night. He just kept eating quietly and listened thoughtfully to the discussions. That was why Viktoir liked being around him. He was more of a listener. Moreover, she resembled him the most, their father, in the family.