The Petrova Diaries

KATERINA Petrova

All hail the Queen.
This is a fresh take on the life of the devil sweetheart , Katerina Petrova  aka Katherine Pierce. Better say it's the author's Cinderella take on her story. Every story has two sides. This the other. The one you and me believe exists. Every devil was once an angel . And Goodness is the only constant  in a human, though subdued. Every action of hers had a reason, a story. And I bring  it forth.This is just the beginning. 
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"Katerina , It's time you give up the comfort of the warm blanket of yours for your mother strictly demands you to. " Came  a squeaky voice of a petite middle- aged woman who announced with an air of finality and threat to the one who dared to defy her command.  The deftness with which these women possessed surprised Katerina . She tossed in her bed and groaned clearly not wanting to leave the warm embrace of the bright morning sun that tried to force it's way through the heavy velvety red curtains. Her mother could be a difficult woman.

"Yes Mother. In a moment.  " Katerina responded in a hoarse voice.

Katherine "Katerina" Petrova was a petite brunette of seventeen who lived in a majestic manor deep within the mystical woods of Bulgaria. They were rich.  And she hated her family.  Katherine always said, "Embrace your curls, or you don't deserve them." , for her brunette curls were her pride. All was good. 

Amidst all this, Katherine had drifted back to sleep lost in the arms of her prince charming.

"It's all his fault, your father . Unchecked freedom and irrevocable love will  ruin your future and your present. Like Father, like daughter.  I will have to have a  talk with father. Katerina I demand you out of that featherbed of yours at once or you will face consequences. " Shrieked her mother lost in the click and clatter of utensils.  The smell of baked cake wafted into her room jostling her out of her reverie. While her mother prepared her throat for some ginger treatment, Katherine lay wide awake in her bed.  Face buried in her feathered pillows , tears running down her cheeks.  That's how her days began.  You wouldn't know.  you would if you were her. loved, lost and
tortured. Yes, that indeed is what she is . Tortured.

"Yes mother." She whispered and buried her face harder to stifle her sobs. Her mother said that crying is an attribute of the weak.  And,  weakness has since long lost it's way from the Petrova bloodline. 

Katherine washed herself up, changed corsets, donned a pretty green gown that complemented her curves, elaborate hat with laces, vines and beads, long white gloves available and her blue lapis lazuli pendant that never left her neck bare.  It glistened unnaturally bright in the sun. 

She was beautiful.

"Thank the Lords Katerina you're here.  Now, whip the cream, and skin the poultry Katerina. The Salvatores are due soon. "

Katerina liked to be called Katherine for that provided her the distance that she needed from herself ,her lineage She hated her mother. The squeaky hypocrite that she was.

"KATERINA!"

"Keep your head in your  work. The Salvatores have all the riches in the province. They like it their way. Make sure you don't disappoint the name that we have earned."

She nodded.

"And, keep your eye on the Salvatore boy." Her Mother whispered.

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This chapter of Katherine's  life is an  ode to SarcasticVamp144. Do grace a look on her take on Vampires. And yes, this was your surprise. Delays ask for forgiveness.