December of 2015. Annapolis, Maryland.
Returning safely to the Rosselini manor, Karina makes her way to her bedroom. Despite her wan and wounded appearance, the young girl's gait is steady, her head held up in confidence. Reaching her quarters, she turns to address her hoard of guardians. The singular Kindred in the assemblage stands almost awkwardly close to her. "Bruno. While I appreciate your adamant security, a modicum of privacy is desired tonight. I will call for you, should I need to leave the manor." The mook narrows his eyes at the Donna, his expression displeased. Karina rolls her eyes. "Or if I need to leave my bedroom, at all." He seems satisfied, retreating to his own quarters.
She turns to Vincenzo, disregarding the ghoul's look of prevalent concern. "Renaldo will be needing accommodations. See that he has adequate ones, when he arrives."
"Miss Karina." the ghoul speaks tentatively. "Perhaps I should.."
She gives him a sharp glare. "Perhaps you should follow my orders." With a reluctant nod, he departs. She sighs, needlessly through her nose, directing her attention towards her spirit slaves. "Patrol the grounds." She looks to the young boy and the lanky, dark haired gentleman. "Confirm the Don and his wraith's identity before allowing him entrance. Go." The silent, dark haired wraith whose eyes match her own hesitates in his exit. Karina's lip curls, and a sharp gesture brings the man to his knees in pain and hastens the other wraiths evacuation. "Soprattutto voi. Esci dalla mia vista."
She enters her room without a second glance to the wraith. A shuffle of movement comes from the corner of the room, and she looks to the spectral ursine creature as it shambles towards her. She caresses it's fur silently, her stiff posture seeming to diminish in the slightest. She speaks to it in a soft, yet commanding tone. "Shardik. Enforce the other's actions. Should Don Renaldo fail to prove his identity, or refuses to..." she continues to pet the three headed beast. "Kill him."
Once alone, the young girl locks the door and removes her garments and adornments, wrapping herself in a plush velvet robe. She pulls the neck of the robe tight, concealing the bloodless wounds upon her chest. All pretense of fortitude is discarded as the young girl reclines gingerly on her bed. She sets her cell phone within reach and turns to retrieve a large book from her nightstand. With a grimace, she pulls the book into her lap. Leaning her head back against the headboard, she clenches her jaw and eyes shut, a pained expression on her face. It is in that position that she stays, willing vitae to her wounds, healing until dawn approaches.