Tatjana lifted her eyes and gazed at her husband, a smile on her slightly curved lips. How much she loved him. When she looked at him now, her memories came back. Memories of the day, when they decided that nothing would ever part them again. The day when he asked her to marry him. Of course she said yes. There was no other possible answer for her. Blood Marriage wasn’t an unknown oath, but it was very rare. There were too many rules applied to it, and many kindred couples decided not to go that specific step. Their predatory nature and their acceptance that feelings must decay weakened these couples.
In fact, her research about this oath showed some strange similarities between the couples that engaged in marriage. All of them knew and loved each other since their mortal lives. Just as Marcus and her. None of them were sire and progeny. Just as Marcus and her. But most of them belonged to the same Clan, which they didn’t. But once her blood was the blood of Clan Ventrue. Not only through Craises Vitae, but as a birthright. She hated the Vitae she had now, even if she saw the advantages, her heart and soul were still Ventrue, and some Daeva seemed to feel that.
She wasn’t sure which of them, but in fact she was sure that both of the Daeva she paid respect knew. And while lesser Daeva would despise her for those feelings, it almost seemed like Toreador, the Antediluvian Elder of her Clan, could understand. Not just understand, but… as if he would admire her feelings.
When Malachi left, it was Toreador himself who watched over her studies whenever he could make the time. Secret meetings behind closed doors, so none of the other kindred would think that she was his darling progeny. She wasn’t. She just had something that he appreciated. And at some point she realized that it wasn’t her stunning beauty. He had beauty around him all the time. It wasn’t her rebellious behaviour, even if that seemed to amuse him. It was the intensity of her feelings. When he showed her a new work of art, she wasn’t just able to appreciate how it was executed. She was able to feel what these artworks infused. She was able to laugh, smile and cry. And sometimes… just sometimes it felt like some of this moved over to her Elder.
She shook her head and her thoughts returned to her husband. Did he ever doubt that they made the right decision? For him - for a Ventrue - it must be even harder than for her. Which was why she usually tried not to outshine him. He was the right, full blooded Ventrue. And this meant something. She was just… just a broken mirror. A twisted image of what should have been.
Her eyes turned to the mirror at the wall and she studied her face, her body. Delicate, elegant. She moved with the grace of a panther, and had an aristocratic face. She didn’t even know if she looked like her parents. Not talking about knowing who her parents were. Everything she managed to figure out was that she had noble blood, and her father was among the best of all Ventrue. Specifically selected to sire a child. Her. She had a strong connection to the Clan all her life, and when Craise took her with him, it was like coming home again. His progeny wasn’t just his family. It was hers. When he allowed her to be with Marcus, it was so clear that he hoped for this connection. He hoped for their love. And how awesome that would have been. His progeny, not only strong, but even stronger because they belonged to each other.
And then… then Selania took her and broke that mirror. She turned a true, born Ventrue to a Daeva. Now, over a century later, it felt like she was the one who made a whore out of her. Not Craise. Sure. She had been working on the streets to figure out how to guide and manipulate human men. She has been out there to hunt and feed. But she never felt used or tainted. When Selania assigned her to one guest after another, Ventrue, Gangrel, Mekhet… it was different. She felt like a toy. Tatjana never told anybody about this. Not even Malachi.
She didn’t tell him about many things. Not about being accepted to the tower when she was still a mortal. Not about her feeling hollow when she was at Selanias home. She kept personal things in her marriage, and Marcus was still the only one knowing about the demons haunting her.
Marcus came over to her, bowing down to her and kissing her softly. “You are brooding again, Darling.” She smiled and answered: “No more, I am all yours.” Thinking about these things could wait. She was with her husband again, and that was all that mattered.
