Katherine hadn't been expecting much from her doppelganger. Why would she? The girl barely had a score of years to her name. It was only to be expected that she'd greet her with something as inane as -
"How do we look exactly alike?"
Had she been able to concentrate properly, her reply would have been somewhat different, and no doubt a lot sharper. Katherine's tongue has had centuries of practice in flaying skin from bones and doing it with style. As it was –
"Alike? Honey, look at your hair!"
There was no way she going to let this girl walk around town, let alone hand her over to Klaus, Klaus who has spent centuries among the elite, looking like that. As the elder Petrova doppelganger, she has a reputation to uphold.
She circles, taking this catastrophe in. Had she ever had those doe eyes? Or that incessant shuffle? They'd have to work on posture, get a whole new set of shoes, and judging from her heartbeat, start some confidence exercises . . .
... and then she'd hand her over to Kluas. It'd be a pity, of course, with the amount of work she would've put in by that point, and it was always a shame when pretty things had to die, but it was infinitely preferable to the idea of Katherine dying.