"Deep in her eyes;
I think I see the future.
I realize this is my last chance."

- Shut up and Dance

{1860: Mystic Falls, Virginia}

The Veritas Estate had reached full bloom as the Salvatore brothers tossed a ball around, seeing which of them could catch it the farthest. They had to spend the afternoon at home, because a guest was to arrive soon – a young lady. According to their father it was of utmost importance to make a good first impression with the newcomer. The lady in question and her brother were quite wealthy, as they were left a hefty sum after their parents' passing, further increasing as they both invested wisely each year. The brothers knew their father wanted them to enchant the girl, in the hopes to procure an engagement. Though neither of the boys had marriage in mind, it still did not mean they couldn't be friendly with their soon to be neighbor.

Their father had chatted with the young man, and since he had a business venture towards the north, Giuseppe Salvatore reached out with open arms, stating it would be much safer and provide better peace of mind if the frail young lady would stay with them at the Veritas instead of spending it in an unattended hotel in the town. And as promised, they would be cordial, but that didn't mean they couldn't pass the time having fun on their own for a while.

The two spent the afternoon wrestling the ball from one another to the point they had both become panting, sweating masses collapsing on the lawn. At that time, a bell could be heard; this one in particular meant a carriage would soon be approaching. Both boys groaned aloud, taking notice of their uncouth state.

"Told you we shouldn't have horsed around. Father will probably have our heads when he finds out."

Damon snorted, "If I recall, brother, you weren't exactly putting up a fight when I brought you out here. Besides we'll just tell the girl that the stable hands needed help with something. We can't be faulted if we were giving help to someone in need, now can we? Father will never know."

Stefan frowned in disapproval, "She has a name Damon, and is it really a good idea for our first meeting with her start on a lie?"

Damon rolled his eyes, obviously becoming annoyed, before saying, "Fine, we wouldn't want your precious Miss Graice to think we were just a couple of fabricators. She'll learn that later on anyways."

"She's not my anything."

"Of course she is. She's closer to your age than with mine, so we know father's counting on you to become her betrothed –"

"I'm just stating we should treat her kindly; it's not her fault father's hell bent on setting us up."

Damon didn't seem angry to be interrupted, in fact he looked amused. "Hell bent? My, my, our little Stefan is growing up isn't he? Better watch that tongue in front of the ladies."

"Please Damon, just behave, she's not one of your girls from the tavern."

Damon hopped up from the ground as the carriage came around the bend. "Whatever you say, Master Salvatore." He quickly turned, giving Stefan a mock bow.

When the horses settled to a stop, the driver silently stepped down and put on the ground a footstool so that whoever was inside could easily get out. The first had to be her handmaiden, though her clothes looked to be in the range of high end the style seemed to lean towards those who took on household work. The young girl was beautiful, with olive skin and dark hair. Yet she looked too stern, too cold for someone her age. Her eyes set on them, already calculating the two. Steering her gaze back to the carriage, she lent her hand to help the other girl out.

As the girl came into full view, Stefan could feel his heart drop; and if the gasp from Damon was any hint so had his. The girl was striking; in a few more years she could be downright beautiful: a petite frame with whitish blonde hair. But that wasn't it, beautiful girls seemed to come and go by the dozen in Mystic Falls; something emanated from within her that made her glow transcendentally outwards. Stepping down, she caught sight of the ball, now lying forgotten in the yard, and gently scooped it up. After pitching it overhead a few times, she approached them.

It was then that the brothers were taken aback for a second time. Up close they were able to see her eyes: one the brightest blue, the other a rusted, reddish brown. She curtsied with the ball under her arm, the act more for their stunned states rather than their manners.

"You must be the Salvatores; your father has told me a lot about the two of you. I would like to thank you both for letting us stay here until our home is finished." The girl had a thick accent, and the boys couldn't quite place where it was from. She turned to the girl who was still looking at them with a curious distaste, "This is, well, I was going to say good friend, but a better word is sister, I think. Her name is Miyu," the dark-haired girl curtsied to them but then straightened immediately. "And I am Rosemary Graice." Instead of another curtsy, she shook both their hands, again surprising them, since ladies weren't supposed to be so crass as to shake hands like a man.

They waved it off; she was from another land after all and perhaps did not know the customs yet. She held the ball out to them with a gleam in her eyes, "I can see you have already been through a round, but is there a chance you boys could go for another?" No, this young maiden had no idea how off kilter this was. But who were the Salvatores to refuse a lady?