Viorica felt her ire rose at Mithias’ accusations. Matriarch? She was seeing to the survival of her own species! How dare he come stomping in [i]her[/i] castle, accusing [i]her[/i] of trying to further her own gain? Snarling, she realized that he would have to be put into his place. This was probably not the first. Viorica took a moment, calming herself before she spoke.

“Careful how you speak to me, heathen. I am your elder and more powerful than you! I am the daughter of Dracula and I assure you, it is with good reason. For such an old soul, you don’t think, Mithias. If you believe that I do this for my own gain, then you are wrong. I am already a matriarch, if you have forgotten. Every one of you in this room is [i]mine[/i]. I may not have turned you, but the moment you stepped into my castle you were [i]my[/i] clan, [i]my[/i] family. And as the mother of this family, I will not have some fool come in here and tell me what I can and cannot do, creating chaos within my family. If you have a problem with it, Mithias, the door is that way. Do not forget you are the one who wishes not to be a vampire, not us. Do not force your opinion on others! You know nothing of the reason why these three were turned. They could have been dying, they could have asked me, they might not have even been turned by me but I took their fledgling asses in! Your disgust with your own kind is repulsive. We vampires have as much as a reason to live as humans; yes we might have to hurt them to live, but humans have to hurt animals to live and so is the way of life.”

Despite her attempts to calm herself down, the rage began boiling in her gut and, in the middle of her speech, she had stood up. She looked at Evelyn and Christof and wondered silently if they were not as happy in their life as she had previously thought. Her hand shaking, Viorica dipped her cup straight into the bowl of random blood and took a long drag of it. Crimson liquid poured down her hand messily and onto her extravagant dress as she attempted to smother her anxiety.