Prologue

"Green sleeves was all my joy
Green sleeves was my delight,
Green sleeves was my heart of gold,
And who but my lady green sleeves…"

Klaus froze.

His arm was pulled back, ready to strike at the kitchen window with the crowbar in his hand. Elena wouldn't have even seen it coming; she still hadn't seen him.

Slowly, as if in a trance, Klaus dropped the crowbar, as the lilting words of the song floated gently down from an upstairs window. He couldn't breathe. As the angelic voice continued to sing, he drifted away on a dreamlike cloud, remembering the courts of the beautiful, lavish Tudors. They'd had musicians that sounded like the heaven's choirs but none were as beautiful as this-this voice singing Henry VIII's lament and once again sending Klaus down a memory lane he didn't want to tread.

His next thought was almost murderous in his violence: he wanted to cut the throat of the singer, whoever she was. He knew it was a female. He wanted to silence that voice before he became a slave for it. With the utmost effort, Klaus buried his fingers in his hair and shook his head as if trying to get rid of it.

"Your vows you've broken, like my heart,
Oh, why did you so enrapture me?
Now I remain in a world apart
but my heart remains in captivity…"

"Shut-UP!"

It was out of his mouth before he could stop it- loud and furious.

The singing abruptly stopped and he realised his mistake a split second later when Elena stopped moving around in the kitchen. When she frowned and peered through the window, the garden was empty.

"Funny," she said to herself, "I could have sworn I heard something."

Upstairs, Virgil had heard the enraged voice perfectly well and it had done nothing for her self-confidence. It had sounded like a pissed off neighbour but seriously? That voice sounded nothing like you average pissed of neighbour. None of the neighbours were British with a deliciously sexy Cockney accent. Strange how two words could tell you so much about someone.

She went over to the window and leaned out.

"Whoever just told me to shut up- go to hell! 'Cause I'm singing whether you like it or not, so go somewhere else!" she shouted out at the empty street.

She was starting to feel stupid at the silence she got in reply, when a voice sounded to her left.

"I wanted you to stop because you were stripping away all the common sense that I am proud to be master of, love."

Virgil screamed and nearly fell out of the window. Perched on the tree just outside, looking as if he'd been there all his life, was a blond haired cutie with a mouth to die for and dimples that had the potential to send a crowd of women insane. Not that they looked as if they come out a lot. But wait- what-the-hell?! He was sitting in a tree, like right in front of her face!

"What-are-you-doing?" she tried to say calmly but hearing a strange quiver in her voice anyway. Elena had a lot of strange friends, including that hottie Damon, and they all had a very weird way of doing things- just like this guy here. They were also all beautiful- again, just like this guy here.

He was looking at her keenly, as if trying to guess what she was thinking. Then, the dimples disappeared slightly to give way to a more wondrous look.

"I've never seen any like this before," he murmured, leaning forward.

Virgil abruptly leaned back. "What?"

"Your eyes, pet….they're violet."

Oh. Of course, the eyes. It always was the eyes. Every time she was at a public gathering, people would skip the hellos and simply stare at her eyes with a double take. She couldn't blame them- they had reason to be surprised. Her eyes were the colour of fresh lavenders outlined with a dark purple ring at the edge. It was the trademark feature of her beauty- where people instantly called Elena gorgeous, they described Virgil as beautiful. Maybe the second word had the benefits of sounding dreamy.

The man in the tree however, didn't look as dazed as most other people usually did. He only looked as if something had pleased him a lot.

"Right, now we've got past the eyes, who are you and why are you sitting in a tree outside my window?" she said boldly.

He raised a delicate eyebrow. "Your window? I thought this was Elena's house?"

"Are you a friend of hers?"

He gave a brief chuckle. "You could say that. Are you?"

"I'm her half-sister."

All traces of his dimples disappeared and suddenly he was glaring at her. "What do you mean. "Half-sister"?"

Virgil recoiled from the sheer malice of the growl in his voice. "H-half-sister as in we only met a few months ago!"

"Oh." He relaxes visibly and sat back on the branch. "Are you the older?"

"No. Younger."

"How old are you?"

"Sixteen."

"Nice."

Virgil retreated even farther into her room. "Are you a paedophile or something dude because I'm gonna' go and get Elena right now and-"

"No, no, no," he laughed, "I'm not a danger- to you anyway. You don't need to call Big Sister."

"Can you just get off the tree and go then? I'm not in the mood to entertain guests especially when they choose not to come in through the front door."

"Well- can I come in then?"

"You must be joking. No offence but I've been tutored about the entire 'don't talk to strangers' thing and that includes not letting them in. if you're a friend of Elena's, go downstairs and tell her you're here."

He sighed theatrically and rolled his eyes. "I guess I'll just leave instead. Oh-one more thing- you've forgotten all about me and our little conversation, okay?"

Virgil felt a strange falling sensation in her mind, before she automatically replied, "Of course. See you."