She was thinking about the past when it happened; lost in memories of the first ball that she'd attended after her own inauguration. All the preparations for Vasilisa's party had left her melancholic, pining for her youth. She wanted to live again… to be young and vibrant. To fall in love and relive those wondrous moments of when it was new and amazing, experiencing emotions so strong that they stole your breath away.

There was a muffled sound of pain behind her, but why should she bother to look? Whatever it was, it didn't concern her in the slightest. Still, she was bored; her curiosity got the better of her. Turning her head, she eyed the young girl who stood on the threshold of all that was left of her domain. The little idiot was tangled in the hedge—it was what she deserved for poking around in places that didn't concern her. The girl yanked her hair free, eyes darting around the garden; of course they passed right over her—she was used to being unseen. She watched with narrowed eyes as the dhampir came closer, wondering who she was and why she had come.

Then the impudent creature had the colossal nerve to sit right down beside her!

Huffing with irritation, she jumped to her feet, moving away to settle herself on the large marble base of her statue; it was quite uncomfortable, but at least it wasn't crowded. Her anger at the intruder grew stronger with each second that passed.

How dare she take off her shoes and socks in the presence of a queen! Of all the inexcusable rude—and now she's sleeping…in my garden!

Tatiana had no way of judging how much time slipped by; even if she'd had a watch, she was too busy blustering over the presumptuousness of the dhampir. Calling her everything from a street urchin to a hobo, she paced the area between the bench and the statue, scowling all the while.

Ah—now she's awake. Good. Leave! Immediately!

Of course… she didn't. Instead, the young girl's eyes wandered from one flower bed to the next, her lips turned up in a strange, pleased little smile—and then she turned to the statue, unaware that the ghost of the woman it represented was mere inches away, glaring pointedly at her bare feet.

Were you raised in a barn? No—probably in a blood whore commune. No wonder you—

"They're too small—they pinch my feet terribly," the girl whispered, her eyes dropping down to the ground; a moment later, she blushed, then laughed—but her words had silenced the Queen, who was staring at her, stunned.

Can you hear me? No… of course not. But… how did you know what I was saying?

"I hope you don't mind if I share your garden for a while... I needed a place to put my thoughts in order... away from my family." The girl stood, moving towards the statue, bending to read the inscription at the base, her long fingers trailing over the raised letters.

Tatiana watched, eyes narrowed as the girl reached down and removed the flowers that Adrian had left several weeks ago; every day he noticed them and promised to bring more—but the poor boy had so much on his mind, his forgetting was understandable.

"I think perhaps these should be replaced, don't you agree your Majesty? It would never do to have your nephew come to visit and find that people aren't taking care of your monument properly."

Why do you care girl? Don't you detest me like the rest of your kind do? Think I was out to kill all the novices, sending them into battle before they'd reached their prime? I wasn't… I had a plan. Not that I had the chance to see it through—Natasha Ozera murdered me before I could set it in motion.

The dhampir's eyes turned to the flowers; Tatiana winced when she realized where she was looking.

Not the lilies—those were my grandmother's favorite. Don't touch them—they honor her memory…that's why I always kept them around the palace.

Almost as if she read her mind—which was quite impossible—the girls hand stretched out, not towards the lilies but to Adrian's roses… with their enormous thorns.

I really don't need flowers, child. Just… go before you—oh…my. Too late. I did try to warn you.

The girl let out a mumbled curse, jerking her hand back as the stem pierced her skin. "Okay... no roses either."

Either… what do you mean by either? You couldn't have heard me—you're not shadow kissed, I can tell. Can you… sense me? Are you… like Rhonda?

No response. was really getting quite tiring—why did she even bother trying?

Watching the girl stare at the sunflowers, the queen found herself wondering if the Academies still bothered with the classics; had the dhampir read 'The Metamorphosoes' by Ovid? Did she know the story of Helios and Clytia and how the poor nymph withered away, suffering from unrequited love—becoming the world's very first sunflower in the process? It was one of her favorite tales—and the reason she'd always loved the plant; they reminded her of the first man she'd fallen in love with and how she had basked in his smiles—growing cold as her hopes and dreams withered away when he had turned the warmth of those smiles on a younger, prettier someone else.

But for a quirk of fate and a fickle man's heart, Janine Hathaway's daughter might have been mine. Yes… that is the root of my intense dislike for Rosemarie—the way she'd treated Adrian was just the icing on the cake.

The dhampir before her was different than Rosemarie; more humble and not as crass. Even now, as she arranged the flowers she'd gathered in a lovely, simple arrangement, she berated her skills instead of boasting. No, this girl would not crow proudly over her triumphs—she would celebrate them privately, with grace and humility.

"I am sorry it's not very pretty your Majesty—but it is better than nothing, I think. Besides, I am sure when your nephew comes he will replace them with something far nicer anyway."

It's perfectly fine—quite nice. Thank you for—

"Ahhh—there now, do you see what happens when I leave you to your own devices? You start talking to yourself out of loneliness."

A voice spoke from behind them, spinning the ghost around; it was him— the one who had played a part in breaking her nephews heart. But… how did he know the girl beside her? Turning, she examined the young dhampir, trying not to smile at the charming blush of embarrassment that flared up in her cheeks.

"For your information, I happen to be talking to the Queen."

Yes—and we were having quite a nice time. So go away Belikov. Patrol the wards or polish your stake or—

"Impossible, kotyonok—I know she has good hearing, but she is all the way at the spa with Mama and Roza, waiting for me to come fetch you."

Kitten…an endearment. What an interesting development—was the Guardian betraying Rosemarie the same way she'd betrayed Adrian? No… that couldn't be. Not if they were meeting up with his mother and the she devil... Belikov wasn't the type to flaunt his mistress in front of his lover—that was more Nathan's style.

"Now you are just being silly Dimka. I didn't mean Lissa at all—I meant Queen Tatiana. She is a very good listener—the kind that doesn't have much to say."

Oh I have plenty to say, child. Unfortunately, no one can hear me.

The Guardian approached, his eyes lingering for a moment on the roses that were so abundant, then he turned to her statue; his jaw tensed as he read the dedication.

That's right—this is my place. The Aunt of the man you helped to ruin. I don't suppose you've bothered to tell your little friend what you did, have you Beikov?

"Be that as it may—we have to go. Unless you don't want to join the others in primping for tomorrow night?" He grabbed the girl's elbow, tugging her to her feet.

Excuse me! Be more gentle! She's a girl, not one of your training dummies!

"But you said I had an hour! It hasn't been nearly that long!" Her lower lip slid out in a sulk, making the ghost chuckle softly.

It has... but somehow it doesn't seem long enough. I don't want to be alone again... not yet, anyway.

"You're quite right—it's been almost two. I gave you a little extra time so you wouldn't have to hear Roza and Lissa bickering back and forth about what beauty treatments everyone should get. Now put on your boots and stop pouting—you know that I can't bear seeing you look unhappy."

Seeing them side by side, she realized her error; not secret lovers, but siblings, the older brother come to round up his wayward sister. Tatiana watched as the girl reclaimed her boots, frowning at the expression of pain that crossed her pretty face; could they not afford to buy her shoes that fit? It seemed a shame she should suffer. As the young dhampir followed after her brother, she felt completely torn; she should be glad the thoughtless creature was leaving, shouldn't she? Yes. She should.

That's right. Go on... leave. You don't belong here—your family has caused Adrian a lifetime of agony. I shouldn't have even paid any attention to you at all.

But then… the girl paused, glancing back at the statue; she turned back, gathering up the dead flowers that were scattered across the grass, then stared up at the statue, unaware that the Queen's ghost was only a few inches away, watching as she bowed, listening to her soft whisper.

"Thank you for letting me share your special place today, your Majesty. It was an honor to tend to your monument. I hope your nephew brings you some nicer flowers soon."

Tatiana's emotions were turbulent and confusing; the girl was a Belikov—and a dhampir, but she was such a respectful, humble child. She was almost sad to see her leave—but she shouldn't be... not at all. She followed the girl slowly, trying to puzzle out her feelings, unaware that she was actually leaving the sanctuary of her garden for the first time in months. She was so wrapped up in the conversation the siblings were having she barely even noticed her surroundings—huffing in irritation at the comment Belikov made when he praised his sister for her actions.

"That was very nice of you Vika."

More a matter of having manners than being 'nice', you big oaf. But since you're in love with that Hathaway tramp, I don't suppose you think manners are important—she certainly doesn't have any to speak of, does she? Oh. Her name is Vika. Vika Belikov... no, I suppose it would be Belikova, wouldn't it? I wonder... is it Viktoria? That's quite a lovely name.

"About that garden... It is relatively new. I was unaware it was a private one. I think perhaps it would be best if you did not visit it again."

Oh I'm sure you do feel that way...you don't want her running into my Adrian and finding out what you did to him, do you? It might make your little sister see you in quite a different light.

"I did no harm, Dimka—I only sat and enjoyed the quiet. Besides, you must be mistaken...for a rose to have thorns so large they must be several years old." The girl—Vika—held out her hand, showing off an ugly red puncture. Tatiana winced at the sight; perhaps Adrian had slightly overdone things with the giant thorns.

"Unless someone specifically made them grow that way." Belikov reverted to Russian, making the ghost roll her eyes. Did he not think his sister—who had a noticeable Russian accent—could understand her native tongue. Men... what fools they were.

"Spirit? Did Lissa make them grow? Is that what has you acting like a worry wart—thinking about Roza finding out Lissa has been using Spirit when she isn't supposed to?"

Smart girl... too bad you're on the complete wrong track with Vasilisa. There's another Spirit user at Court, my dear—one that is devastatingly handsome and funny... not to mention the most charming boy to ever walk the earth. Have you not seen him yet? No... I suppose they'd keep someone as attractive you hidden away from him, wouldn't they?

"What do you know about that?" The man looked stunned—did he think his sister was a halfwit?

"I know Spirit can help plants and flowers—sometimes when a plant in Mark's garden is dying, Oksa practices on it. She's been trying different things—researching old tales. I think she knows how worried Roza is about Lissa now that their bond is gone... she's trying to find something that might help. I know Lissa gets a little... unhinged. She did yesterday when we were shopping and I saw it with my own two eyes."

The ghost stumbled, frowning. How long had it been since she visited Vasilisa? The young queen had been fine the last time she'd seen her, taking to her new title the way a duck took to water. Surely... Vasilisa couldn't be breaking already?

Oh dear God... she can't be losing her mind? Our people need her! She is going to change things for the better—that's why I chose her... because she cares about them all—Moroi and dhampir alike!

"Be that as it may, I don't want you returning there. It is a place for the family to mourn in private. Do you understand?" The Guardian gave his sister a stern, determined look that made a knot of fear clench Tatiana's stomach. He couldn't order her about like he was her father... she wouldn't listen... would she?

Don't you dare forbid her... she... amuses me. Don't stop her Belikov. Don't. You. Dare.

"Yes... I understand."

No! You must come back! You're welcome there—anytime. Please... don't leave me all alone again... I can't bear it. It's driving me mad, child!

The former queen moved in front of them, facing the girl and focusing her will, desperate to reach her—then she saw the secretive glint in her dark brown eyes, and instantly relaxed. She had nothing to fear—the girl would be back; she had felt the alluring magic of the little garden Adrian had created out of love and adoration—and she wouldn't be able to resist it's pull.

The dhampirs lapsed into silence, but still, she followed—though she couldn't understand why; the girl was like a magnet, drawing her attention—but her steps faltered when they reached the spa. As Belikov escorted his sister inside, Tatiana hovered in the doorway; she was torn, but she couldn't bring herself to enter.

He's in there... dear, sweet Ambrose. I can't bear facing him again... not yet.

Sinking down on a nearby bench, she tilted her head back, counting the stars and naming the constellations; she hoped the girl would hurry and reappear before the wretched boredom reared its ugly head. When she felt it prickling, the urge to go inside almost overwhelmed her, but instead, she circled the building, passing through the enormous hedge that encircled the small, private terrace where the spa's patrons often retired for a glass of wine or cup of tea. Eyeing the women present, she drifted towards the table where Evette Ozera sat holding court with a mud pack treatment on her face. There were several other women with her—one being that horrid Marcella Badica who was always trying to wiggle her way up the social ladder by claiming to be kin. Sinking down in a free chair, she glared at the cups in their hands; she would give anything to have some chamomile tea. It was something she'd always adored—tea with a drop of whiskey... the perfect way to calm her nerves at the end of a trying day.

"I'm telling you—that girl will be trouble, you mark my words!" Marcella shifted in her chair, clearly agitated as she adjusted the thick folds of the plush robe she was wearing. "First she tried to sit down beside me, then she threatens the council! Honestly!"

What! Who would dare—

"She didn't know about the seating... she's a visitor, for God's sake, Marcy. And it wasn't a threat. Do you think Guardian Belikov would have brought her to Court if she was the type to cause trouble?" Evette sipped her tea; grimacing, she set it down, adding two more cubes of sugar. "I think the girl is a seer. Guardian Anosov told me she collapsed in the corridor as soon as she left the council chambers. I remember Rhonda doing that once when we were in school. We'd been playing with a Ouija board and it overloaded her… second sight… or whatever the hell it's called. I think Viktoria saw something… that's what caused her outburst… and I'm going to find out exactly what she saw."

Tatiana leaned forward in her chair, instantly alert. They were talking about her dhampir—she'd been right. There was something different about the girl… but why had she been to a council meeting? And what was the threat she'd made?

"Well then—you can't seriously be entertaining the thought of putting in a bid for her to guard Clarissa. Imagine if she had a vision in the middle of a fight?" Katherine Conta stood up, preparing to go back inside.

"I already decided she's not going to be for Clarissa—I want her for myself. I have other Guardians to protect me… but a seer? Those are hard to find. With Vasilisa starting to slip… I want to be prepared for anything. Viktoria Belikova can help me with that… and she'll be an even bigger help when I become Queen."

You? Queen? Using that sweet girl as a tool? I think not! Over my dead— oh. Well… regardless. It's not going to happen.

"You heard what she said in there… she won't accept a charge."

"I'm willing to bet if it means more rights for her people, she'll do it." Evette leaned back in her chair, smiling smugly, "I can make empty promises and then blame the other Royals for being slow to act on the changes... and even if she outright refuses… there are ways to force her to comply. After all… there are twelve of us on the council, and I can always change my vote to side against Vasilisa on every dhampir related proposal she brings up. Right now the council is evenly split… my vote will make a difference. All I have to do is mention that to the Guardian council and they'll make her serve."

Oh you horrible, horrible bitch. We do not force them to serve—if we did it could cause a revolution. You moronic, conceited woman!

Her eyes darted from one woman to the next, disgust filling her as she realized they all approved of the wretched, despicable scheme. Didn't they realize that if they forced dhampir women into service, the men would protest? They did their duty so their mothers and sisters wouldn't have to, wanting to keep them safe and out of harm's way, These idiotic fools were going to ruin everything she'd spent her life achieving, shattering the harmony she had tried so hard to preserve.

"Princess Ozera? I'm ready for you now." There he stood, practically beside her—the one person she had been determined not to see. His voice hit her like a slap, misery welling up and eating away at her insides. Even here, working, he looked so…sad. She could tell the happy, carefree tone he was using was forced—his haunted eyes betrayed him.

"I'll be there in a moment Ambrose, thank you. Just let me finish my tea first." Evette watched him walk back inside, turning to smile at her friends. "Perhaps I'll start dropping hints to Novice Belikova today. Maybe I can convince Ambrose to sit her next to me."

Marcella made a sound of disgust. "She's here ? As a client? What in the… I am so tired of dhampirs invading everything around here. They used to know their place, but now it seems like there's nowhere we can escape them."

"Vasilisa invited her… the Hathaway girl is here too, along with two older dhampirs. So watch what you say when you go inside—don't let your big mouth get you in trouble."

"I heard that Rosemarie practically attacked her after the session. Stacy saw them at the Café—she said Rose jerked her out of line and started screaming in her face about how she acted towards the Council." Aria Zeklos leaned forward, her voice an excited whisper. "Apparently the Belikova girl wasn't taking it though—she yelled right back. Guardian Belikov had to break it up. Stacy said she thought they were going to start beating the hell out of each other."

"Stacy talks too much." Evette stood up, tightening the belt on her robe. "Charles was there—he said Hathaway was teaching her about respect. Commendable, if it were true, but I can't see that girl taking up for the Royals—unless Vasilisa is involved."

Tatiana sneered; as if Hathaway were fit to lecture anyone on how to behave in public. The tramp had spewed out profanities at her in front of half the Court. Her fondness for the Belikov girl grew as she pictured her standing up to Rosemarie; apparently she hadn't let the bitch bully her—and she hadn't backed down… both very admirable things.

As the women dispersed, she sighed, returning to her bench near the front door; she thought about just going inside—after all, she'd already seen Ambrose and was aching from the encounter. Half a dozen times she stood, approaching the building—only to retreat back to her shadowy bench, trembling at the thought of being around Ambrose for an extended period of time. Thankfully, her dhampir saved her from exposing herself to seeing him again; she walked out the door before Tatiana had the chance to make up her mind. The ghost stood, moving closer, eyeing what had changed since she'd went inside. The girl's hair was sleek and shining, catching the glow of the streetlight as she moved; it was really quite flattering—a lovely brown shade that was warm and rich, matching the color of her large, sparkling eyes.

And she replaced those wretched boots. Thank God. Maybe now she won't walk around barefoot.

She watched as the girl and the she-devil waited for the rest of their party; first Vasilisa appeared, chatting with an older dhampir woman, followed by an aged crone… that stared straight at her with dark, knowing eyes that looked slightly dazed.

Good God! Another one!

Hesitantly, she nodded her head, not daring to let the hope she felt gathering inside her free; it was an idiotic gesture, one that made her feel foolish—but then… the woman nodded back. Their gazes locked for a moment, but the dhampir's eyes went unfocused. The woman staggered, leaning against the wall, letting out a soft moan.

"Yeva… you ok?" Rosemarie dropped back, her hand moving to the woman's elbow.

"I'll be fine Roza… I just need a minute. Sometimes I see… things I am not meant to see." It was a tired whisper, filling the ghost with guilt. She wanted to be seen, but not if it meant killing the woman in the process.

"Oh God. Here we go. What was it this time? Let me guess… I'm gonna have triplets? Quintuplets?"

Still no respect. She would never change.

"A great woman cut down in her prime. That is what I saw. The vision has faded." The elderly woman took hold of Rosemarie's arm, her expression troubled and weary. "There are restless spirits here… you are lucky you can't see them anymore."

"I didn't know you could see them at all. Why didn't you mention it before?"

"And have you question me incessantly? Why would I?"

Tatiana chuckled, amused by the woman's abruptness. She walked beside the crone, but did not try to reach her; she'd save that for the young one, not wanting to risk harming the old woman further.

It wasn't a surprise that Vasilisa had housed them lavishly; the girl was very forward thinking when it came to such things. For a moment, she was torn—tempted to follow the old woman who had seen her, but she finally decided to stick with her dhampir, following the girl into her apartment and settling herself on the couch.

This is quite nice. I had no idea the rooms were so quaint.

The girl—Viktoria, she reminded herself—was in a tizzy, pacing the floor and huffing about some dress that she was missing. After a few moments, she disappeared into the bedroom, returning with a book and plopping down in a chair, finally beginning to write. Eyeing her frantic scribbling, Tatiana was tempted to move, to see what was so fascinating that she filled page after page—but realizing it must be a diary, she refrained herself. Some things were private, after all. Viktoria wrote and she wrote until they came to take her to dinner; Tatiana didn't follow, she was content to stay and wait. Now that she knew the Belikov women could glimpse the unseen, she wasn't about to abandon them. The old one had seen her… and the younger one sensed her… so perhaps in time, she would find a way. She had to believe it was possible, unwilling to accept the misery of being alone and unnoticed forever.

Eventually, the dhampir returned, going straight into the bedroom and preparing herself for sleep; Tatiana was prepared to spend the night waiting, but she realized something that had escaped her notice in the excitement of the day—Adrian hadn't made an appearance… unless he'd gone to the garden when she'd been wandering. She moved to the door, prepared to hunt him down—just to reassure herself that he was alright—but a sound from the bedroom stopped her in her tracks; a soft, sad whisper that was almost heartbreaking.

"Happy birthday Vika."

What? But… why is she sad? Did they not celebrate? Surely they got a cake and cards and all the tiny tokens she had always made sure Adrian always had on his special day… that was what you did for the ones you loved… wasn't it? One year she even got him an elephant and threw a circus themed party! Did they… not remember? They didn't remember! Not one of them—not even her mother? It was unthinkable to forget such an important thing! No wonder she's crying—what wretched, wretched people!

The ghost moved into the darkened room, sinking down on the edge of the bed; she watched the girl cry, trying to ignore the way it tugged at her heart. When Viktoria finally drifted off to sleep, Tatiana Ivashkov leaned forward, gently stroking her translucent hand across the soft waves of the girl's long brown hair, wishing she could comfort her in some small way.

Happy birthday child. May you have many more… and may they be happy ones.

She left, promising herself that she would return in the morning and do her best to make herself known in any way she could. It wasn't until she reached Adrian's apartment and found him slumped over, asleep in his favorite chair—with an empty bottle of whiskey dangling from his hand—that she realized something she had missed; it was something so enormous that it buckled her knees, making her sink down on the floor beside him.

She had actually been able to feel the dhampir's hair… soft and silky beneath her ghostly palm.

But… HOW?