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[h3][color=teal]Part 4[/color][/h3][/center]

[color=4C93C2]Time:[/color] 2nd Ignis, Evening
[color=4C93C2]Location:[/color] The Damien Estate

[hr][color=silver]
Liliane was the first to recover her breath. Her smile blossomed slowly as if nothing in the room had shifted at all. Behind her, servants glided in with the next course, the clatter of silver momentarily swallowed by the vibe Marek had carried in with him.

Calbert’s smile held. He did not ask [i]why[/i] the man had come unannounced. [color=#4C93C2]“Marek Delronzo,”[/color] He greeted, voice rich and warm. [color=#4C93C2]“We are fortunate to have you grace our table. Allow me to formally introduce my children.”[/color] He extended a hand toward each in turn, [color=#4C93C2]“My daughter, Lady Violet Damien…My son Cassius, Sorian's newest Lord and bachelor.”[/color]

His gaze subsequently fell on Violet, meeting a pair of deep red eyes looking back at him. [color=#4C93C2]“Mr. Delronzo is the head of operations of the Black Rose Trading Company.”[/color] 


A smile graced her lips in a practiced manner as she offered him a slight bow of her head. [color=firebrick]” It’s an honor, Lord Delronzo. I have only heard tales of your great deeds; it's a pleasure to put a face to the name.[/color] [i]Just the man she was looking for…[/i]

[color=Gold]“Let’s not forget the precious Crystal and the venerable Countess Liliane Damien.”[/color] Alexander was quick to undermine his friendly rival. He had to in the midst of this surprise. These two, who had just walked in, were not supposed to be there. He remained poised and neutral, anticipating that they were only here to aid him.

[color=palevioletred]“I can always count on Alexander to be extra thorough.”[/color] Lianna had beamed with a pleasant smile. [color=palevioletred]“Especially with women.”[/color] Alexander’s eye shifted sharply toward his wife with that added comment.

[color=#4C93C2]“Of course. Thank you, Alexander.”[/color]

Her eyes drifted to Alexander with an unhurried, knowing sweep. There it was, the smallest of cracks in his veneer, the slip in his carefully curated narrative. Lianna’s tone had not been the tone of a woman merely teasing her husband.

It had been a warning.

Violet’s smile thinned, so subtly it could have been a trick of the candlelight, but the shift was there. A soft pull at the corner of her lips, the kind that signaled thought more than warmth.

Of course, Alexander hadn’t mentioned his [i]lovely wife[/i] would be joining him tonight.
Or Marek Delronzo, for that matter.  Her gaze lowered briefly to the table. 

Two empty places. No plates, no glasses, no cutlery. It was not an oversight.

An unexpected arrival.

[color=firebrick]” You must forgive our staff, I don’t believe we were expecting you, but we can rectify that immediately. Please, take a place at the table where you feel most comfortable.”[/color] Violet gestured to a member of the staff as they quickly began to prepare new table settings for the unexpected guests. 

[color=firebrick]” You’re just in time, the second course has only just arrived.”[/color]

Marek’s gaze did not brighten the way a courteous man’s ought to. It simply rested upon her, unblinking.

[color=7D2933]“And I,”[/color] he murmured at last, voice oddly resonant, [color=7D2933]“have awaited our meeting for quite some time...”[/color]

He raised his chin and smiled—the kind of smile that gave another chills. [color=7D2933]“Lady Violet Damien.”[/color] He let the words linger as he spoke them, as if tasting them.

Cassius tried to listen to the words around him, but he couldn’t shake the uneasy feeling that had washed over his form. It was something about the way the man moved. Cassius knew that walk. He knew that type of confidence all too well… And the depth in the man’s eyes was even more telling. Even more chilling. Cas’s jaw tightened as his fingers stilled against the table, his beloved wine forgotten in an instant.

There was something old about this man; older than he appeared, and ancient in its own way. He wondered if the man revealed as Marek Delronzo was the same as Alexander and Violet. Was he another vampire in some kind of sick coven? If so, he was their leader. Cassius could tell without doubt, without ponderance. This man was authority incarnate. [i]Head of Operations[/i] he had been called. Bullshit. Cassius knew what the Black Rose really was, and this Marek Delronzo wasn’t just the head of a trading company… No, this man was the Don of one of the world’s most dangerous syndicates. To finally see the head of such a legendary serpent there before him felt like an honor as much as it did a curse. Cassius allowed his patented smirk to cross his face. The pleasantry was forced, and he knew damn well their new guest would clock it, but what other move did he have? 

[color=lightsteelblue]“As my sister says, Mr. Delronzo, you’ve made your entrance at the perfect time. Thank you for gracing my family with your presence.”[/color] 

Cassius stood, leaned across the table, and offered his hand to Marek. 

[color=lightsteelblue]“In truth, I feel honored to have you join us. I can’t imagine that a man with such a busy schedule often attends such events.”[/color]  

Marek looked at the offered hand as though it were not a greeting, but a specimen placed on a table for his inspection. His gaze moved slowly: first Cassius’s fingers, then the line of his wrist, then the pulse-point at his throat. Slowly, his eyes rose to meet Cassius’s. Then, finally, Marek extended his hand and took Cassius’s hand in his grasp, palm to palm, as any gentleman might…But Marek’s grip was steady in a way no mortal hand ever was. It wasn’t tight nor crushing, but something about it was [i]absolute[/i]. His thumb pressed once lightly against the inside of Cassius’s wrist, feeling his pulse. 

He then smiled at the younger man. [color=7D2933]“Lord Damien,”[/color] Marek said. [color=7D2933]“How prompt.”[/color] He released Cassius’s hand as if concluding a contract. His eyes darted about as he took in the sight of the servants setting down silver platters of meats and other fineries. They were slow, hesitant, as if suddenly clattering the items in their hands would cause them to lose their heads.

Roasted pheasant arrived on a platter lined with citrus, its skin brushed with honey until it shone. Venison followed, sliced thick, bathing in a berry reduction so dark it looked like spilled ink. A tureen of pumpkin soup was placed near Liliane with a swirl of cream. Crystal dishes came next: carrots glazed with butter; green beans dressed in lemon and oil; potatoes whipped so smooth they held their shape like silk. And then the wine: decanters that caught the light and held it. A servant poured with a steady hand. The servants then withdrew in silence once their job was complete.

With a contemplative hum, Marek turned his head back to Violet, and the room seemed to follow his attention without meaning to. 

[i][b][color=7D2933]“Where is her blood?”[/color][/b][/i]

Violet's eyes snapped to Marek, her chest tightened as the breath seemed to leave her lungs.

Calbert’s fork stilled mid-motion; the faintest pause in his breath betrayed that the question had struck exactly where it was meant to. [color=#4C93C2]“Excuse me?”[/color] Calbert could not hide his feelings from his cadence this time. [color=#4C93C2]“You forget yourself, Mr. Delronzo.”[/color]

Marek’s expression did not shift. If anything, a faint amusement touched the corners of his mouth. It was an indulgent look. [color=7D2933]“Do I?”[/color] he replied mildly. [color=7D2933]“It is astonishing how frequently men accuse others of amnesia when what they truly fear is acknowledgment.”[/color]

His gaze slid toward Violet again, meeting her crimson eyes. [color=7D2933]“You host a tableau of abundance,”[/color] Marek continued, his tone polite, [color=7D2933]“and you expect your cursed daughter to admire the brushstrokes.”[/color]

[color=#4C93C2]“My daughter’s needs,”[/color] Calbert replied tersely, [color=#4C93C2]“are addressed privately. Not exhibited at my table for… theatrics.”[/color]

[color=7D2933]“Theatrics,”[/color] Marek echoed, as if turning the word over and finding it insufficient. [color=7D2933]“No, Count Damien. Necessity.”[/color] He leaned back as though the point were self-evident. [color=7D2933]“You may drape the matter in discretion,”[/color] he said, voice like silk, [color=7D2933]“but discretion does not transmute physiology. It merely delays consequence.”[/color]  

The realization left Violet momentarily speechless. She knew that she should be furious. Her father clearly was. Everyone likely expected her to be. But beneath the initial shock, anger never quite arrived. Instead, something unfamiliar stirred in its place. Not comfort. Not relief, but recognition.

Her gaze flicked to her father, then back to Marek, and for the briefest instant, she understood the divide laid bare before her: concealment versus acknowledgment. Shame versus truth. And she found, to her own quiet alarm, that she did not entirely resent the latter.

Then came a small, strangled sound, and Marek followed Calbert’s gaze to the youngest daughter, the ill one.

Crystal was staring wide-eyed, trying to make sense of the conversation as though it were a language she’d never been taught. Then her face drained of its color, and her hand flew up to cover her mouth. She looked from Violet to her father, and then to her mother, silently pleading for someone to tell her this was a joke.

Violet turned at once, the tension in her shoulders easing as she reached across the table. Her hand found her sister’s warm and trembling hand. She gave it a gentle squeeze, grounding, steady.

[color=firebrick]“It’s alright,”[/color] Violet said softly, her voice meant only for Crystal now. She offered her a smile, real and reassuring, unburdened by ceremony. [color=firebrick]“Truly. There’s nothing you need to worry about.”[/color]

Her thumb brushed lightly against Crystal’s knuckles, a silent promise.

[color=firebrick]“I’m fine,”[/color] she added, meeting her sister’s wide eyes with calm certainty.

[color=7D2933]“Pardon me,”[/color] Marek said smoothly as he took in her demeanor. [color=7D2933]“I was under the impression everyone at this table was already acquainted with Lady Violet’s… predicament.”[/color]

[color=gold]“Mr. Delronzo…”[/color] Alexander cleared his throat as he drew attention amongst silence while addressing the most powerful man in the room. [color=gold]“This dinner is not the time or place for her yearnings. Right now, she practices patience and poise so that she might demonstrate the same in front of her peers in public.”[/color] Alexander kindly argued before stealing a glance at Violet. 

[i][color=7D2933]“Yearnings, hmm?”[/color][/i] Marek repeated with the slightest head tilt.

[color=lightsteelblue]“And here I had so foolishly assumed that Lady Violet could speak for herself at this table, but yet all I hear are three men speaking for her. [i]Very interesting.[/i]”[/color] Cassius' words summoned a quick scowl from Alexander, that was so sharp, the man might as well have told him to “shut his fucking mouth.”

[color=#4C93C2]“I am in accordance with my son. We shall let Violet decide what she needs and speak it for herself.”[/color] Calbert promptly agreed.

[color=7D2933]“My defense of Lady Violet does not silence her—she is welcome to speak her truth..”[/color]

[color=palevioletred]“The food smells lovely tonight.”[/color] Lianna’s hand reached beside her, finding Alexander's arm quite easily. [color=palevioletred]“Let’s not spoil it with this… [i]talk[/i]”[/color] She grimaced at the idea of discussing Violet’s desire to drink blood, but in truth, it was all part of the theatrics. Lianna only wished she could see Violet fizzle and writhe like a slug sprinkled by grains of salt.

Calbert’s brow lifted, but he regarded her politely all the same: [color=#4C93C2]“Please help yourself, Ms. Deacon... My apologies for the choice in discussion.”[/color]


To Violet, Lianna’s sweetness was too polished, too carefully placed. The hand on Alexander’s arm. The delicate grimace. Violet had lived long enough in this house to recognize cruelty when it wore perfume. 

She did not rise to it.

Instead, Violet drew in a slow breath, letting it settle her before she turned her head just enough to acknowledge Lianna’s presence. Her expression remained composed, but something in her eyes cooled, almost darkened.

[color=firebrick]“The food does smell wonderful, almost as good as it looks.”[/color] Violet agreed quietly. Her tone was mild, almost pleasant. [color=firebrick]“The kitchen has outdone itself.”[/color]

She reached for her glass, fingers steady, and took a measured sip before continuing.

[color=firebrick]“And you’re right,”[/color] she added, meeting Lianna’s gaze at last. [color=firebrick]“There is little point in lingering on topics that make others… uncomfortable.”[/color] 

[color=firebrick]“But discomfort,”[/color] Violet went on, her voice still soft,[color=firebrick] “is not the same as impropriety. And silence has never made anything less true.”[/color]

[color=palevioletred]“Hm,”[/color] Lianna replied, the vagueness of it difficult to read. Acknowledgment, dismissal, interest, [i]feigned[/i] interest, or perhaps an attempt to pretend she grasped what was said? It was hard to tell with that faint smile and those glossy eyes peering back. 

Her gaze lingered for just a second longer before Violet looked away, her attention returning to Crystal, her hand still resting protectively over her sister’s. [color=firebrick]“I do appreciate your concern and consideration for me, Mr. Delronzo.”[/color] Her eyes glanced to look at him with a warm smile, to which he returned with a seemingly genuine smile of his own.

[color=lightsteelblue]“As do I, sister. I can’t imagine a downside to having the concern or consideration of a man as renowned as our esteemed guest.”[/color] The sarcasm from Cassius was subtle but not entirely hidden. Those that he wanted to perceive certainly would, and the rest… Well, it wasn’t important if they caught on or not.

He looked around the table with a smile, taking in each person again, one by one. His gaze lingered on that of Calbert with an air of disappointment. Then, his eyes found Crystal last among the table as he offered his most reassuring nod and grin before turning his attention back to the man in the room with the most presence. A dark presence at that. Meeting Marek’s eyes felt like a combat maneuver; something that held risk each and every time, but he did it anyway.

[color=lightsteelblue]“While the topic of discussion is on you, Mr. Delronzo, I am curious. Since I’m the newest member of this family and obviously rather uninformed about all the Damien’s dealings… What exactly is your relationship with my father?”[/color]  

Marek’s smile was rather saccharine as he bestowed his attention on Cassius, however, it was Liliane who cleared her throat and spoke up first. An attempt to regain decorum in hopes to shift the topic of conversation away from less [i]tense[/i] matters. [color=teal]“For the sake of clarity, my daughter has never been deprived of what she requires. Her needs are anticipated, attended to, and met within the walls of this estate. “[/color] Her smile warmed as she held his gaze.

[color=teal]“Your concern is… thoughtful,”[/color] she continued, inclining her head just enough to acknowledge him, [color=teal]“and of course, appreciated. But rest assured, Violet has never lacked for anything under our roof.”[/color]

[color=7D2933]“How reassuring, Lady Damien.”[/color] Marek murmured. He raised his head as he looked down at her the way a scholar would regard a page of a book filled with inaccuracies.[color=7D2933]“ Yet do not mistake provision for permission, Lady Damien. To feed her in secrecy is to instruct her that her survival is an indecency. That what keeps her alive must be hidden like contraband.”[/color] His gaze drifted unhurriedly toward Violet, as though acknowledging a truth the room had spent years avoiding. 

[color=7D2933]“At this table,”[/color] Marek said softly, [color=7D2933]“you and your husband indulge abundance without apology.”[/color] His eyes lifted at last slowly, [color=7D2933]“Why, then, must she dine only in the shadows in the comfort of her own home?”[/color] Alexander glanced his way, confused by what the man’s objective could be. What he said sounded more ridiculous than something Duke Vikena might spout! With a noticeable exhale, he returned to spoon-feeding his wife who looked much too delightful in her indulgence. Was it the thick tension or the tender meats?

Marek’s gaze slid to Cassius next, [color=7D2933]“Now let’s return to that [i]excellent[/i] question of yours…”[/color]

The man leaned in his seat, the irises of his eyes darkening as they bore into Cassius, as if seeking to look into his very soul just for a moment,  [color=7D2933]“ Well Cassius, quite simply,  I [i]work[/i] for him.”[/color] 

Calbert had just lifted his glass to his lips, and the bit of wine he had consumed immediately went down the wrong way. He coughed once involuntarily as he brought a hand to his mouth. Cassius noticed. 

A single drop darkened the linen beside the Count’s plate.

[Color=gold]“That is probably the best way to describe the year-long relationship.”[/color] Alexander piped in to agree, granting little room for doubt. 

Cassius shifted back in his seat more comfortably, a suave grin painted his expression as he let Marek’s words and Alexander’s comment hang in the air for the slightest moment. 

[color=lightsteelblue]“Interesting.[/color] He spoke simply, clearly amused. The way Marek’s presence alone held such an antediluvian and uncanny effluence unsettled him, but he knew better than to show those cards.  [color=lightsteelblue]“And, if I may… What kind of work does a man, who runs an empire of his own, do for a Count like my father? Investments? Trade deals? Perhaps something more…off the books?”[/color] 

Even beneath the candlelight’s warmth, nothing seemed to soften about Marek Delronzo’s face. He regarded Cassius as though measuring what kind of calamity the title had merely disguised.

[color=7D2933]“Off the books?”[/color] Marek echoed, faintly amused. [color=7D2933]“My work is to ensure your father’s intentions survive contact with the world.”[/color]

His eyes slid briefly to the linen by Calbert’s plate.

He returned to Cassius, his tone courteous. [color=7D2933]“Learn the difference between power and its theatre, Lord Damien. Secure your own interdiction—before you are given one.”[/color]

Cas’s eyes narrowed as he allowed a grin to soften his face. His gaze did not leave that of Marek. 

[color=#4C93C2]“Mr. Delronzo,”[/color] Calbert interjected evenly, [color=#4C93C2]“my son doesn’t require tutoring at my table. If you have counsel, you may address it to me.”[/color]

Then, with the same calm, he gestured toward the food. [color=#4C93C2]“Now, before it cools.”[/color]

Violet’s gaze lowered to the table then, to the spread laid out in careful abundance. The dishes were rich, thoughtfully prepared. And yet, none of it stirred anything in her.

Not hunger. Not want.

Her thoughts drifted, unbidden, to blood. Warm, alive, and necessary. The ache followed close behind, familiar and patient. It had been some time since she had truly enjoyed anything at all. She could feel that familiar voice calling to her, trying to shake it from her mind. 

She reached for the serving spoon anyway, out of habit more than desire, drawing a modest portion onto her plate. The motions were practiced, graceful, convincing enough for anyone who cared to look no closer than etiquette required.

Instead of lifting her fork, Violet’s fingers curled around the stem of her wineglass.

She brought it to her lips, savoring the taste as though it were something more than it was; letting the sharpness linger, grounding her. Marek had unintentionally reminded her of the one thing she was trying to push away again. Since Lord Fritz, she hadn’t found anyone to fall in his stead, making her situation not as convenient as her family painted. 


The expression on her face seemed to drift as her eyes glossed over in deep thought at the glass resting against her bottom lip. Her crimson eyes glancing over to Alexander, holding her gaze on him for a beat longer than appropriate. And, just like they always had, his eyes caught hers as if he had felt her gaze from across the table. From where he sat, she appeared stuck, like a carriage’s wheels rolling into thick, slowly drying mud. He flashed a grin her way, an attempt to ease her mind that might have been at its limit. 

[color=gold]“I think a much lighter subject is due for this table.”[/color] Alexander commented with a pleasant smile after a few moments of silent eating. He placed his utensils down and leaned in Cassius’ direction, putting every ounce of his attention on the man. [color=gold]“You’ve asked your questions. Now, I believe it’s my turn, and I’d like to start with the most curious of us at this table.”[/color] The attack was warm and friendly. [color=gold]“You must tell me how the courtship between you and Lady Vikena is going? I mean, her father might be a lunatic, but Charlotte is…”[/color] He made an uneasy face. [color=gold]“[i]Plain[/i] is probably the best word, which probably makes it that much easier for you, being a Damien. You could probably do better, but the Duke of Vermillion’s daughter that everyone overlooks might be a great choice in the longterm. I might be lucky enough to see a Duke Damien in my time.”[/color] 

Cassius finally allowed his gaze to slip away from Marek as Alexander addressed him. The man’s comment about Charlotte was an obvious barb meant to stir the coals within him. He did not give Alexander the satisfaction of a response outside of the slightest scoff of a chuckle escaped him. 

Marek’s fingers stilled against his glass, the smile at his mouth thinning as though something inelegant had just been spoken aloud.

[color=palevioletred]“Does it not have a nice ring to it? Duke Damien,”[/color] Lianna repeated with a thin smile.

[color=gold]“It’s the D’s, I think.”[/color] Alexander nodded to his wife.

[color=palevioletred]“Yes, the D’s. It’s quite nice.”[/color]

Calbert shifted back in his chair, the wood giving the faintest sound beneath him. He had been about to speak up, but his wife beat him to the punch. Lily had smiled suddenly, folding her arms on the table. [color=teal]“My, my,”[/color] Countess Damien said pleasantly, folding her arms atop the table. [color=teal]“I have indeed noticed the way Cassius looks at Lady Vikena.”[/color]

Her smile did not falter.[color=teal]“Which makes it rather interesting that you should raise the subject at all, Mr. Deacon—considering how frequently your own name has been whispered alongside hers of late.”[/color]She tilted her head, as if recalling the details. [color=teal]“The art gallery, in particular, seems to have inspired quite a bit of discussion.”[/color]

Her eyes met his, bright and curious. [color=teal]“Rumors, of course. But care to enlighten us anyway?”[/color]

The ironclad grip Cas had formed on his composure slipped ever so marginally as he listened to Lily’s insinuations. His grin all but fell away; the eyes that had been calculatedly softened by that smile hardened as they broke from Alexander and moved instead to his plate of food. The thought of a vile thing like Alexander alone with Charlotte began to heat his blood. 

Though curiosity festered within him like a nagging wound, he dared not wait to hear any revelations. It was time for him to remove himself from the moment. 

[color=lightsteelblue]“Please…continue on with such fascinating conversation, however I must excuse myself for the moment. I fear the holiday’s [i]sporting[/i] has finally caught up to me. I’m in need of a bit of fresh air.”[/color] Cassius spun the narrative with charm, though inside his blood was not far from reaching its boiling point. He did not wait for permission or response as he walked away from the table in the direction of the front door. 
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