Be Careful What You Wish For

Chapter Twenty-Three

1 "So, I clearly passed your test," Irina told Aro. He'd led her away from that terrible corridor of 'precious rarities' and to something resembling a reading room from an eighteenth-century English country estate: beige and textured wallpaper, thick curtains covering non-windows (this was a subterraneous keep, after all, but nice of them to keep appearances), bookshelves made of dark and heavy wood, and comfortable, patterned sofas circling a round, little table. It was nice. Irina had tried to keep up as he led her there, but of course, she knew that such an effort was completely futile. At least she wasn't in one of those ghastly cells. One had to be grateful for the little things in life.

"Indeed, you did," he said, smiling warmly at her. He was sitting opposite her on the smaller sofa, whilst she occupied the larger one. Both were flanked by armchairs. All in all, it was a nice little corner of a terrifying stronghold. Well, at least they made an effort to live comfortably.

The same could not be said for the girl in the cage.

Just thinking about her made Irina feel like running again. Of course, she didn't even try. It wasn't as if she weren't a fighter – she wouldn't have survived for a millennium if she gave up easily – but she knew when to call it quits because resisting had zero chance of success. She was at the heart of the highest vampire authority. Butting heads on purpose with who was basically vampire Caesar wouldn't only be a waste of time, but criminally stupid, too.

She said, "I would like to know who she is."

His smile froze a little. "Hm," he made, rested his elbows on his thighs, and briefly ran his pale fingers through his dark and unruly mop of hair. "You do understand why we keep that thing...her like that, don't you?"

"I do," she said, trying and failing to not think of the girl, of Renesmee, of Vasilii. "I also understand why you'd keep a live dhampir in your fortress, but..." Unsure of how to phrase her questions (so, so many questions!) in a proper manner, she trailed off.

His smile thawed again, and he leaned back in his seat, crossing his legs. If not anything else, the effort to seem non-threatening at least was admirable. There was no physical need to lounge around on couches, and yet, he did it to keep her mind at ease. Either this was a way of making her lower her guard, or a genuine attempt to be friendly – well, as friendly as suited his purpose, but who was keeping score? Certainly not Irina.

"You're wondering why we didn't pick one up that wasn't as threatening," he said, "or, alternatively, why we didn't simply replace it...her after we found a less powerful specimen. We have, by the way. There are three in the Amazon that we have recently discovered and that will have to be taken care of soon – powerless when compared to Renesmee or to Fiora. They have influence over a limited amount of people, but they seem to have been around for over a century, and we've only now heard of their existence. There's not much of a hurry."

"Fiora," Irina echoed, savouring the name for a moment. It was lovely. The girl probably had been, as well, once upon centuries ago. She probably still could be.

"A common name during the time of its...of her birth," he said, his tone and expression wry and strangely wistful. "She is a product of the love between one of my people and a local human."

"Oh." Irina arched her expressive eyebrows. "You probably didn't even know what was happening until it was too late, did you?"

"We did not," he said, chuckled, and shook his head. "I have spent much time wondering what I could have done differently, how I could have prevented the disaster from striking. I asked myself if I was even still fit to be a leader."