30 minutes ago.
Damon watched Elena leave the room and made no attempt to stop her. He felt defeated. Perhaps she was right. Perhaps Katherine's ghost was lingering over their heads. He hadn't thought of her in weeks. But maybe there were unresolved emotions that needed to be settled. Damon's fingers ran across the jasmine flowers that Elena's hair left behind. One of the rosettes from her tiara laid solitarily on the sheets. Damon picked it up and twirled its stem between his index finger and thumb. He slid it into his lapel and stood. He straightened his costume and walked out of the room. Damon turned left out of the darkened hallway and began to head towards the grand staircase. That was when he heard it. A scream, a cry. Damon paused, his ears on alert. He moved with the stealth of a cat as he advanced forward, hiding behind a large column.
"You're disgusting!" She moaned.
"Please! Let me explain!"
Damon recognized the voice of Lord Lockwood.
"There is no explaining, Tyler. What could you possibly say?"
"I…" He trailed off.
"You lied to me," She spat. "You used me."
"No, it's not true."
"It isn't? We were supposed to be married! I was supposed to be Lady Lockwood and instead…Tyler, it's deplorable. It's a sin against God. You're damned to hell."
"You don't know what you are talking about," Tyler's voice was suddenly low.
"Oh, but I do. I knew something was amiss. I could feel it. And I knew of the rumors but I didn't want to believe. I loved you, you bastard. You fed me sweet words—you told me everything I wanted to hear. And for what? Hmm? So I could be the little spy in Princess Elena's chamber? Was that what this was all about?"
"I need you," Tyler said. "Don't you understand?"
"I understand that you need me to be where you can't. I'm the one who alerted you of her opium addiction. I'm the one who discovered that the Princess bedded the Count. Without me, you would never have known that de la Salvatore is some kind of demon from hell."
"Keep your voice down," Tyler whispered furiously.
"Everyone will know," she taunted. "Everyone will know that the Prince likes you to play the role of Princess."
"Stop."
"You've crossed many people, Lord Lockwood. You've finally crossed the wrong one," Her words were ice. "You're finished. Everyone is Sofia will know."
Damon peered behind the column at precisely the wrong moment. Her eyes flickered past Lockwood's shoulder and her gaze connected with him. She saw her blink with surprise but before she could raise alarm, her attention was ripped away as Tyler's hands went around her neck. Her eyes widened with surprise and she was gasping. She clawed at his face, at his hands.
Damon came out from behind the column. She was frantic and was her eyes went from Tyler to Damon. She was silently pleading for Damon to intervene.
"You bitch," Tyler said. "I won't let you ruin this. I won't let you ruin us."
Damon's teeth unsheathed as he watched this predatory act intiated by Tyler.
Help me.
Damon's head gave the slightest hint of a shake. No. He wouldn't intervene. She knew too much. There was nothing he could do.
Her face was beet red and her movements were becoming sluggish. Her knees were beginning to bend under her weight. Tyler tumbled to the floor with her. His grip was an anchor to her neck. He banged her head once against the marbled floor as they lay at the summit of the stairs.
"Why did you have to come looking for me," Tyler's voice was breaking.
Vicki didn't respond. She would never again move her lips or blink her eyes. She'd never laugh or cry or make love. Her eyes stared blankly ahead, as if she was looking at the ceiling. But she wasn't looking at the ceiling. She wasn't looking at anything at all. Vicki was dead.
Damon watched as Tyler stood suddenly. It was as if he finally realized the severity of his actions. Damon pressed himself behind the column again. What should he do? Should he kill him. Yes. He knows too much.
"Oh God," Tyler whispered shakily.
Before Damon could move, the sound of other feet could be heard along the carpet. Their shouts had alerted an audience. This was too dangerous. He had to hide.
"Help," Tyler called out suddenly.
It was a calculated move, Damon could give him that. Damon slid into an empty room as he listened to the stomping feet of the guards. Voices were raised and people began to run. Damon wondered what was happening, but he knew that he had to leave at once or he would end up just like Vicktoria. Dead. Damon slowly opened the door a crack and saw Tyler rushing away from the scene of the crime and heading straight for the royal bedchambers. Damon slid through the door silently and stole out into the night.
Tyler had walked into Matthew's bedroom, taking a final glance back at the departing Princess. His nerves were pudding. Elena knew about him and Matthew. She confirmed it before she walked away. And yet he stood outside the door and listened to his moans, her moans.
"You fucked her?" Tyler asked.
"She's my wife."
"I know but…"
"But what? Why are you here? Did you find our voyeur?"
Tyler sat down on the settee and stared across the room at Matt, who was lounging in bed.
"We need to talk about what has been going on in your absence," Tyler said darkly. "And yes, I found the person."
Matthew felt himself tense with anticipation. Tyler brightened the oil lamp and thought of how to begin.
"You're bleeding," Matthew said.
"I know." He noticed fleetingly that Elena didn't seem to notice.
"Tell me," he said seriously.
Vicktoria always knew she was meant for the finer things in life. She was meant for champagne and jewels. She was meant to be waited on hand and foot. Though she was born into a slightly upper class family, Vicktoria was by no means royalty. She kicked and clawed her way into Sofia society. She had to be noticed. She had to be beautiful. If she couldn't be born into privilege, she could marry into it. This was exactly how she set her sights on Lord Tyler Lockwood.
Tyler was beautiful. He could have had any woman in the court. While he occasionally gave some of the ladies attention, he never seemed to commit. She had heard the rumors that the Prince and Tyler were inappropriately close. She refused to believe it. No. He just hadn't found the right woman. She called on him constantly. She showered him with compliments. She gave him trinkets of affection. And although he seemed to appreciate her, he made no attempts to secure her love.
As fate would have it, six months ago, everything changed. The Prince had just left abroad, leaving Lord Lockwood to be his emissary in his absence. And it was as if over night, Tyler began to court Vicki in private.
"Why can't we announce our engagement?" Vicki asked one day, annoyed.
"It's because we need the blessing of the Prince, my love. It's disrespectful if we announce it before. You haven't told anyone, have you?"
"You told me not to!"
"That's my girl."
Tyler pulled Vicki towards him, kissing her expertly on the mouth.
"Oh," Vicki breathed. "I've learned of something that may interest the Prince."
Matthew…
Tyler's demeanor changed instantly.
"What news?"
"The Princess has been overindulging with opium again. Bonnie told me she was nearly catatonic."
"Isn't she on bed rest? Maybe she's just tired from her condition?"
"Oh no, love. It's not her pregnancy. It's the opium. From him."
"Sir John?"
"Who else?"
Tyler smiled inwardly. He had recently mounted enough evidence of Sir John's misgivings to remove any affection that Matthew had for him. Vicki noticed the light that flickered life in his eyes.
"Are you pleased?"
Tyler pushed Vicki on to the bed.
"I'll show you the extent of my pleasure."
Making love to Tyler put Vicki in a haze. Granted, the first few sessions were awkward and for Tyler…he had difficulty performing. But she felt that they had hit their stride. They were to be married soon. Everything would be right as rain.
When Vicki first began to spy on Elena's deeds, she had felt guilty. She had been a lady in waiting for several years now. Elena confided in her and considered her a friend. Vicki just had to remind herself that the end justified the means. All she wanted was to be Lady Lockwood. Never in her wildest dreams did she think she would be the bearer of such scandalous information. While she occasionally felt disloyal, she also felt superior. Tyler valued her. She knew that knowledge was indeed power.
From the moment that Vicki laid eyes on Count de la Salvatore, she knew that he was a man to watch. He was beautiful, she couldn't deny it. Everything about him was seductive. The way he looked at the Princess was scandalous—he made love to her with his stare. She noticed they had begun to spend time alone together and she made sure to pass along the information to Tyler.
"Do you think she's taken him into her bed," he had asked.
"No," she shook her head. "Not yet."
"I need to know the moment she does."
"Of course, my love."
The night of the opera, Vicki knew that this was it. He made no attempt to hide his hungry gaze towards Elena. Vicki stood in the corner with Bonnie and clicked her tongue softly.
"The Princess is besotted with him," she whispered.
"What," Bonnie shook her head. "I don't think so. She can barely stomach the sight of him."
"Perhaps you're right…"
The Count and the Princess had had a silent duel the entire duration of the play. And as they rode home in silence, she knew that rain nor wind would keep the two of them apart. As she watched Elena go up to her bedchamber alone, Tyler stood at the bottom of the stairs with Vicki. He squeezed her hand reassuringly.
"Follow her," he whispered huskily. "And then come find me."
His hand drifted over her suggestively as he leaned in and kissed her quickly.
Vicki walked slowly up the stairway. She removed her shoes-she couldn't afford for her heels to click along the marble. She crept silently towards Elena's bedchamber and ever so slightly opened the door to peek in. Elena was standing in front of the open window, standing in a chemise. What was she doing? Her heart nearly jumped in her throat when the Princess turned and sprinted towards the door. Vicki flew back and pressed herself against the wall, shutting her eyes. Oh, God. Please don't see me. Elena flung the door open and ran down the hallway, away from her. Vicki's breath escaped from her lips like a deflating balloon. She saw her disappear downstairs and run towards the kitchen. Vicki thought to follow her but instead she wandered into the bedroom. The curtains were opened wide, which was strange to see in a bedroom that was often suffocating itself. The thunder rumbled fiercely as the raindrops pelted the glass on the window. Vicki was drawn forward, lightning illuminating the room is dramatic bursts. She saw her then—a white lily floating in the darkness of the garden. Her eyes traveled with Elena as she ran through the rain.
She's gone mad, Vicki thought.
But no, she hadn't. There to catch her in a fierce embrace was unmistakably Damon. Though they were a great distance from Vrana, it was surely him. Vicki was frozen in her spot as she watched them. The passion, even from here, was palpable. She saw his head bent towards her shoulder, his body thrusting forward—Elena's legs curled around him. There was no denying what she was seeing. Vicki's breath was caught in her throat. Her heart was pounding in her chest. Her hands fisted her skirt in her palm. Whatever they had between them was something so powerful. Something so foreign. It was then her turn to run—run down corridors and down stairs. She burst into Tyler's room, looking feral.
Tyler sat up in bed suddenly, naked underneath his bed sheets.
"What did you see," he asked suddenly.
Vicki breathed loudly.
"What did you see," he asked again, urgently.
She tore off her clothes and climbed on top of Tyler. Words could be spoken later. Now? Now she had needs that must be met. After an animalistic session of sex with Tyler, Vicki smoked a rolled cigarette as she retold what she had seen. Tyler was in disbelief.
"I have to tell the Prince," he shot out of bed.
"Love, it's late. There is no way you could reach him now. Write him in the morning. Better still, tell him when he is home. Don't ruin his trip. He is on important business. This could distract him greatly. It will devastate him."
Tyler weighed Vicki's words. She had no idea how little Matthew cared for his wife.
"I have things to attend to," he said finally.
"Are you dismissing me?"
"I have pressing things, darling," he kissed her forehead absently and handed her her clothes.
"Fine. I'll go check in on Caroline before bed," she grumbled.
Vicki hadn't been in Caroline's bedroom but for a few moments before she heard the sound of someone coming. Why she hid, she couldn't say. But Vicki wrapped herself in the thick curtains that fell over the window. Considering what she saw, it was a miracle that she was able to keep from screaming.
Damon stood over Caroline, his face contorted in a demonic mask. His teeth, sharp as a canine, ripped into his wrist before pressing his wound into Caroline's mouth. He was forcing her to injest his blood! Vicki held her breath. If he saw her, she knew she was as good as dead. God shined on her that night, she knew. He didn't see her. And now she was more than sure that he was the culprit that had attacked Caroline, not an animal. Did Elena know? Of course she had to know! How couldn't she know? The next morning, Vicki began to doubt what she had seen. It had been late and she knew that had been she exhausted from her day. Though, Elena's incoherent opium babblings on Wednesday night all but confirmed it to Vicki. While at the dressmakers, she mentioned a demon and fangs and her dark prince. While her words meant nothing to Bonnie, they meant very much to Vicki. It was then that she revealed it to Tyler who seemed overly pleased and somewhat frightened.
"What do we do," Vicki had asked.
"We wait. Prince Matthew will be home in two days."
And wait they did. They waited throughout the homecoming party. Vicki knew the ball was going to drop and it was going to drop soon. As soon as she saw Damon and Elena on the dance floor, she knew for certain that tonight would be the night that Tyler would tell Matthew. She wanted to be there. She wanted the praise of the Prince and the praise of her fiancée. She wanted Tyler to bestow her with compliments and ask the Prince for his blessing on their engagement. But she could hardly tie Tyler down for more than a few minutes. He seemed edgy, distant—and annoyingly, he kept close to Matthew for most of the night. As the night wound down, Vicki noticed Tyler and Matthew leaving the ballroom and heading towards the royal apartments. Tyler hadn't even bothered to tell her goodnight! She followed them at a distance, curious. They were talking in low tones and she noticed the droop for Tyler's shoulders. She knew that stance—she knew he was upset. She listened to Matthew laugh and pull Tyler towards him. She froze like a deer in headlights when she saw the Prince kiss her lover. It's as if she couldn't believe what she was seeing. Tyler pulled away and he looked upset. What was going on? Before she saw anything more, they disappeared into the royal bedchamber. She should have ran away. She should have erased what she had just seen. But no. She couldn't do it. She advanced forward and found the door ajar. That's when her rose colored glasses were shattered. That's when the deception of Lord Tyler Lockwood finally became clear. He and the Prince were lovers. And she? She was just a means to and end. Anger and hurt bubbled to the surface and it was then she saw the Prince turn back towards the door. She had been spotted.
And so she ran. She ran away towards her death.