A/N- Yes, it has been a while.

It was strange, but Katherine felt almost nervous as she stepped out the grand doors of the manor, to where Elijah stood waiting in the late afternoon sun. He's dressed casually, a white shirt that's open at the collar and black pants that, while expensive, would have come off the rack rather than tailored for him.

She's glad that she'd read the mood right and chosen designer jeans and fitted strapless top, covered with a leather jacket but she wouldn't look out of place at a high end restaurant.

"You look beautiful," he murmurs in greeting and she kisses him in response, taking his proffered arm as she sinks down into his car.

Katherine ran her hands over her jeans and noted that her palms were sweaty, rolling her eyes at her own foolishness, she rifles through the glovebox out of curiosity as Elijah moves around the hood.

Three cans of energy drink and a protocol list typed up by Ansel that included everything from driving precautions, what to do in the event of being tailed by paparazzi and a reminder that the car was not a place for fornication, due to the security risks.

She laughs at the last one as Elijah climbs into the car and settles into the seat, looking over to see what has her interest,

"If you ever get bored, ask Ansel what cars are safe for fornication," he quips as pulls out of the driveway, "He has a list."

She slips the piece of paper back into the glovebox and looks out the window at the passing countryside, it was amazing how much she'd missed the little things during her time in America. Not that she hadn't missed her family and friends, but she'd found herself crossing the quad at Whitmore and suddenly the image of the vibrant green grass of home would flash through her mind and the faint scent of roses that was always on the air. She'd even found herself nostalgic for the town hall parking lot, with its red bricks and old street lamps that were always turned on at five pm sharp, regardless of the season. It's still moderately empty so Elijah pulls into a spot with ease and they both look around for paparazzi before they exit the vehicle.

Not a single one to be seen.

Katherine slips her hand into Elijah's as they stroll across the parking lot, located behind the town hall so they had a few more moments before they were on the main street and would be recognised.

Impulsively, she stops and when he turns around she grins flirtatiously,

"I know something you don't know." she teases and he matches her expression and tone, his thumb stroking the back of her hand tenderly,

"Well unfortunately for you, I am the King, so I can command you to tell me."

She shrugs and tilts her head, pretending to be coy, "This is our first date." She points out to him and he frowns in confusion,

"No, it isn't," he disagrees, "The museum exhibition was our first date."

She shakes her head, "No, this is our first, real, out-in-the-open, officially a couple date."

He opens his mouth but pauses at the realization hits him and closes it again,

"You're right," he tells her, with a hint of embarrassment, "I should have brought you flowers."

She raises an eyebrow, "Like the last time you brought me flowers?"

He drops his eyes and blushes adorably, "No, not like that."

"Good," she sashays past him with a smile, tugging him along, "Because I'm not the kind of girl who puts out on a first date."

He catches up to her as they round the corner onto the main street and she's immediately distracted by trying to note every little change that had occurred, the storefronts were all heritage listed but there had been some paint jobs and the displays in the windows were different. There were some people she hadn't seen before and were obviously new to the village, judging by the way they stared as she and Elijah walked past.

The Rose Staff Pub was a beautiful art-deco building, with large windows and a stunning garden that played to the theme of Rose Seng. It wasn't the dinner rush yet, so there were only a few people dotted around the tables inside and Katherine noted with a greedy eye that the best table with the window seats was free.

How many hours had she and Elena spent there? Drinking endless lemonades or hot chocolates and then proudly switching to coffee when they were old enough, thinking themselves so mature and cultured.

Knowing one hundred percent their place in the world.

The owner of the pub is a stout middle aged chef, nicknamed Eric the Red for his magnificent bushy red beard, he refused to go by any other name. A perpetually jolly man, he's all smiles when she and Elijah walk through the door and does a double-take when he recognises them.

When Elijah had first started visiting Rose Seng, under the pretense of loving the quiet village, the villagers had found themselves facing a quandary. After all, this was the Crown Prince, the future King, of course they would be awe-struck and respectful in his presence, although, clearly what attracted him to the town was the desire to get away from the formalities of the city.

So how to act?

When Katerina had left Valhalla, the villagers had still been stumbling along that fine line, but now, Erik comes bustling over with his arms outstretched,

"Katty Petrova…as I live and breathe, welcome home!"

She finds herself being wrapped up in sweaty arms, coarse cotton shirt, plastic apron and the scent of meat, sugar and male body odour. But she submits to the embrace, smiling and getting flashbacks to her childhood, to the summer ice-cream parties that Erik would host for the school.

"I've missed you," she admits when she breaks away, "I missed your cooking the most." She adds quickly to dispel the emotion of the moment and he laughs,

"I'm not surprised,"

He looks down at her, "There isn't a scrap of flesh on you, girl, I thought America was the land of the obese," he finally turns to Elijah,

"Come, come, I'll lay out the best table for our returned rose."

Elijah chuckles and follows them as they walk through the bar into the restaurant area, Katherine keeping an eye out for every familiar face and either waving or stopping to make quick conversation.

When her grandfather, newly titled, newly rich, had come to Rose Seng, the villagers had been horrified, to have their grand manor inhabited not only by an upstart, a foreigner but a gypsy to boot. However, not even a month after he had arrived, a storm had blown several trees across the road and when the village men had gone out to move them, he had joined them, not ceremoniously, not invited or requiring any special treatment, he had worked alongside them, chatting easily and working as hard as the rest of them. That evening, he'd been invited back to the school house where the women had been cooking food for the workers and met Freida, the music teacher striving to obtain funding to build a primary school for the village. She and Piotr had been married the day before the school had been officially opened and her portrait hung in the assembly room.

That was how her family had won over the town. Grandfather Piotr had always drilled into them the need to be polite and modest, to be respectful of everyone in the village and to know that only sheer luck had them born in the manor house and that they were never to forget it, they were never to look down on people for having less than them.

"The mistake the big men in this world make is giving the little men a reason to come together and destroy them." He told them,

"We must never give people a reason or the chance to destroy us."

The table has been laid with a pristine white lace cloth with a magnificent rose pattern that Katherine admires as she slides into the window seat, Elijah settling in beside her,

"His highness brought that back for me from Venice," Erik tells her, with a nod to him, not realising that he was using the wrong title,

"I only ever lay it out for special guests."

"I rang ahead and made a reservation," her fiancée explains to her, "Since our engagement, tourism has spiked in this area, I was worried we wouldn't get a table."

Katherine is certain that a table would have been cleared for the King of Valhalla but she knows that Elijah would have hated to have had such a spectacle made in his name. He had lived in his life in the public eye however, instead of becoming arrogant and entitled, he had moulded himself in Ansel's image, he was dignified, reserved but eager to put those around him at ease, to try and have people see him for the flesh and blood man rather than the glittering gold crown.

"You've been making friends in my absence," she teases, changing the subject as the bread is brought over, taking a piece and closing her eyes in bliss.

"I came here a lot after you left," he admits, and she opens her eyes as his voice lowers,

"I made up stories about your studies, from what little information I could glean from Elena and lied about the rest, about having spoken to you, visited you. I figured that if anybody would find your long absence strange, it would be the people who had watched you grow up, the people who truly knew you."

There's so much loneliness behind his words and she moves over in her seat, as close to him as possible and slips her hand into his, twining their fingers together,

"Thank-you," she murmurs, kissing his hand, "And I'm sorry, I won't leave you again."

"I know you won't," he chuckles drily, rubbing his thumb against her engagement ring,

"We're to be married soon, besides, your face is being splashed across the front pages of media outlets the world over, where could you possibly run to?"

Only a few weeks ago, that thought would have terrified her, now she just laughs and smiles in delight as Erik brings over the first course.

They've barely even finished the main course when the pub begins to fill up, people coming in under the pretense of having a drink or getting dinner but all of their eyes finding the couple immediately. Katherine pretends not to notice, although she does acknowledge the familiar faces but blanches when a tour bus pulls up.

Fixing a winning smile on her face, she curses through her teeth, catching Elijah attention. Tour buses ran through the district daily, covering the rose fields, the glass lake, and the pub for a drink or a meal before they were bused back to the hotel or to one of the neighbouring villages.

Erik hurries over as the tourists begin disembarking, looking at the pub with avaricious eyes, for the moment clearly ignorant about the royal patron with his back to the window and more interested in food.

"I'm sorry," he apologises, "This is an out of town company, they never warn us before they arrive, should I send them away?"

Elijah shakes his head, "May we get the sorbet to go?"

Two glass dishes neatly filled with rose sorbet and silver spoons stamped with the pub crest were brought out just as the first tourists began to filter into the building and while Elijah kept his head down, he was quickly recognised.

He winced as a bright flash went off and dropped his credit card, but, despite his thick fingers, Erik caught it before it hit the table and tapped it against the machine quickly, sliding it back to him and positioning his heavy back to the crowd of tourists, shielding them from another bright flash.

"Please don't use flash cameras in this building," one of the elderly matrons of the town snapped,

"You'll damage the interior."

The tour guide managed to convince some of his pack to turn off the flashes on their cameras and phones but he couldn't stop them from calling out Elijah's name.

Katherine stood, keeping one hand on her dessert as Elijah took her other and began leading her as quickly as possible while still maintaining a casual air, he couldn't be seen fleeing from the scene, however nor did he want to be swamped and bombarded with photographs when he'd clearly not dressed for the public eye. He smiled politely and nodded hello at the tourists, but was reserved and clearly not interested in lingering to chat or ask questions.

Erik almost plays the bouncer for them, getting them to the door and through the garden where they stepped onto the main street and noted with relief that it wasn't yet busy. They say their goodbyes, Katherine promising to return soon, and then she jerks her head to Elijah,

"Follow me."

There is a tiny park at the end of the main street, a block of land that everyone had argued over the development of for so long that they eventually just agreed to make it a garden.

She leads him to the tiny mound and they settle themselves on the grass, enjoying their sorbet in peace for a moment or two before they begin talking again,

"Have you started the list for invitations to your Court, yet?" she asks curiously and he shakes his head,

"No, not yet, I didn't have time not the willingness to do so before Mikael's funeral, especially after the bad press it was garnering. The list will easily be a fortnight of power plays and manipulations."

She shrugs as delicately as possible considering her position and her outfit, "I can draw up the list for you, I've been away from Court for a few years but I doubt much has changed."

Elijah sighs, "Unfortunately, you are not wrong in that regard, but draw up the list if you must, I'm sure between your family and Giuseppe its already complete."

She frowns at his cold tone, "Elijah…"

"Katerina, I do not want to talk about Court matters during our first date."

He sets the bowl and spoon aside as she winces at his harsh tone, "Forgive me," he murmured, reaching over to cup her cheek with his hand,

"But I came to Rose Seng to escape my future for just a little while."

She wants to argue that becoming king is nothing that one could or should want to escape from but she leans over and kisses him instead, tasting the sugary sorbet on his lips and smiling as his tongue teased her mouth. She starts when she hears familiar laughter in the distance, in her tiny village, Caroline's American accent stood out.

She doesn't pull away from Elijah, letting his arm wrap around her shoulders, almost protectively as they look across the street to see two beautiful blondes crossing the road, their arms laden with bags.

With the instinct that Katherine always suspected was part supernatural, Prince Klaus' head shot up when he sensed his brother nearby and turned to Caroline, saying something before they headed over.

Caroline is dressed in hiking gear, nothing new but it fit her well, she managed to make the outfit look as though she were posing in a magazine, there's a white flower threaded into her plait and a leaf caught in her shoulder strap.

Her beaming smile is infectious as she approaches, "Hi, seriously Katherine, your village is amazing! And the Glass Lake is so beautiful, I could have stayed there all day and the perfumery and the jam factory…"

Klaus falls down theatrically beside his brother, wearing his army cargo pants and matching t-shirt,

"I'm exhausted…" he groans, "I can't keep up with this one, she's worn me ragged."

Caroline rolled her eyes as she knelt down beside Katherine, "Boys are the worst to do touristy stuff with, but he's a decent translator and if he's here then I won't have to drag you or your family to things you've probably seen a billion times!"

Actually, Katherine would have gladly shown Caroline around Rose Seng and Kattegat, however, she figures that if she did she'd be third-wheeling.

Judging purely by the look in Klaus' eyes as he listened to Caroline talk.

Meanwhile, Elijah tucks a strand of hair behind her ear, kissing the shell,

"Whom is cock-blocking whom right now?" he whispers and she giggles,

"Too close to tell."

For Bonnie Bennett, waking up before Damon Salvatore wasn't unusual, she liked to be up with the sun but having him get out of bed before her was just plain weird. Typically, she woke him up when she rolled out of bed, but while she did yoga or checked her emails, he'd grab the book on his nightstand and read a couple more chapters before breakfast.
She both envied him and found his ability to plough through books while still getting all their work done attractive as hell.

"I'm beginning to think that you've been lying about the kind of man you really are." she teases as he emerges from the ridiculously large and ornate bathroom in their hotel room, steam still rising from his hot skin. He smirks as he pulls his clothes out of the wardrobe, "Have you forgotten that today is the day we break up?"

She rolls her eyes and flops back onto the bed, "We aren't breaking up today." She argues, going to cover her mouth as she yawns and whacking herself in the lip with the eighteen carat diamond of her engagement ring.

The ring Damon slipped onto her finger on their first night in London as they walked through Hyde Park.

It was a bezel-set, square diamond in platinum and the best part was- it was completely ethical, the diamond having been mined in Canada and the platinum band being fair-trade recycled. Damon had sourced the materials personally and proposed to Bonnie with a jewellery box he'd carved himself out of a piece of scrap timber from her hometown of Mystic Falls.

Heck, even if they hadn't been dating for five years, the trouble he'd gone to alone to ensure she'd like the ring would have been enough to win her over.

Bonnie Bennett had met Damon Salvatore at a convention in New York. They were both MBA graduates, but whereas he was looking to make his way to the top of Wall Street, she was more interested in founding an ethical trade company. Strangely enough, when she'd pitched her idea to him, he'd given her some advice, put her in touch with a friend and helped her get her business off the ground.

Six months after that, they'd celebrated the opening of her first store by making out in the back room. They'd moved in together when she'd officially become a chain and she'd figured a proposal was coming when she'd been invited to speak at a Fairtrade conference in London, as the youngest CEO.

Bonnie's company, Black Cat, provided fairly trade fashion, jewellery, homewares and furniture, all in the same store, so that people who wanted to switch to the ethical lifestyle, didn't have to try and source their products from all over the state or even across the globe. For the higher end clients, she even had an interior designer who would redo their entire home in her products.

Recently, after her last CFO had bailed to chase her ex-girlfriend all the way to New Zealand and win her back, Damon had come on board as replacement. Now, they were also thinking about expanding into cafes and bakeries as well.

"I can't wait to meet your family," she says, rolling out of bed and padding over to the window, looking down over Brook St, Mayfair. "Besides, they'll all have to be there for the wedding."

He wraps his arms around her waist and groans, "Bon-Bon…"

She tilts her head back and fixes him with a glare, "You dealt with my mom and dad, I can handle your brother and his family."

"Famous last words." He singsongs as she pushes past him to the bathroom.

Bonnie hadn't really believed in the whole six-degrees of separation thing until her best friend Caroline Forbes had skyped her beside herself with excitement that her friend Katherine was the sister-in-law of Stefan Salvatore and 'Hey, wasn't your boyfriend's name also Salvatore?'

Bonnie had sent a tentative email to her future sister-in-law Elena, introducing herself and letting her know about the engagement. Not even an hour later, at one am, Elena had emailed back congratulating her and letting her know that she, Stefan and their daughter Nadia would be in London the very next day and she'd booked them an afternoon tea downstairs in the Foyer and Reading Room.

It had been sudden and between that, and the fact that Damon apparently didn't understand the concept of budget hotels- he'd reserved them the Superior Queen suite at Claridge's after all- suggested to Bonnie that she'd been right in her suspicion that her fiancée came from money. Not that it mattered, he only ever spent what he earned, and had never looked down on her Grams or her for not being wealthy.

Still, Bonnie's nervous as she waits in the lobby for her future in-laws, Damon having to step to the side to take a call, patting down her dress and hoping that, despite coming from the predominantly white country of Valhalla, they wouldn't have any racial prejudices.

A Mercedes S- class pulls up before the doors and a handsome young man steps out, moving around quickly to open the door for his wife, but before his car door is even shut, a little girl bounds out, ignoring his cries of 'Nadia' and rushes into the hotel.

Bonnie quickly steps in her path and holds out her hands, "Hey there, Nadia, my name is Bonnie, let's wait for your parents okay?"

Nadia is wearing a lovely blue dress that probably cost more than Bonnie's entire outfit, she has ribbons in her hair and looks so much like a doll that she's half tempted to pick her up and put her on a shelf.

Nadia looks up at her with wide eyes, "Your skin is brown!" she exclaims and Bonnie raises her eyebrows and tucks a stand of hair behind her ears,

"It is," she answers, "Because I'm African-American."

"It looks like chocolate." The little girl tells her in perfect English and Bonnie decides to take the compliment,

"Thank-you."

"If we cut you open would you bleed chocolate?"

Wow. That got dark fast.

"No," Bonnie stresses the word as Damon comes over and slips an arm around her waist,

"I would bleed blood, like a normal person."

Nadia doesn't look convinced, "Are you sure? Maybe we should check…"

Damon raises his head, "WTF, Stef?!"

Stefan Salvatore approaches, looking mortified, "I am so sorry," he says to Bonnie, taking Nadia by the shoulder, "I swear she's met black people before."

Bonnie shrugs, "It's fine, she's young, kids say silly…"

"Legal cannibalism would get rid of all the dumb people and stop there being too many bad people in prison," Nadia pipes up,

"Grandpa says so."

"Okay," Bonnie allows, "That is terrifying."

Damon digs his hand into his pocket and draws out a pound, tossing it onto a side table where it rattled on the wood,

"All yours," he tells his niece, "Fetch!"

Nadia hurries over to claim her prize and he reaches down and squeezes Bonnie's hand,

"Stay beside me at all times."

She nods, "Good call."

Elena apologises and comes forward, gathering Bonnie into a tight hug and kissing her cheeks in the European style of greeting,

"It is so lovely to meet you."

There is no affectation in her eyes, only genuine joy and kindness and Bonnie finds herself smiling, "You too."

They don't have a table in the main room but the second one for more privacy. Bonnie notices that there's an extra chair and setting but thinks nothing of it. Now that she's been successfully distracted from her violent tendencies, Nadia is behaving like a perfect angel, waiting until her tea has cooled before sipping at it daintily while Stefan and Elena bombard Bonnie with questions.

Not that she minds, she can see genuine interest in their eyes and they happily tell her about their life in Valhalla, although the way they pause before referring to their homes-plural- as 'houses' or the fact that both of them claimed to be 'in the family business' suggested that Damon's family was either very wealthy or crime lords.

She has a mouthful of salmon sandwich when Elena asks Damon whether they'll be visiting Valhalla while they're on holiday, telling Bonnie that Kattegat is absolutely beautiful all year round and the temperature hasn't dropped too badly even though winter was right around the corner, when Damon looks over her shoulder and tenses.

Swallowing quickly, she follows his gaze and sees an older man, suited and with a cane making his way towards them.

"Stefan…" her fiancé growls and his brother shrugs, "I didn't invite him!"

Okay. Bonnie stretches the word in her mind, this must be Damon's father.

To buy her fiancé some time, she gets to her feet and holds out her hand,

"Hi, I'm Bonnie Bennett, it's so nice to meet you."

He stops and takes her hand but doesn't shake it, instead, he turns it over and kisses it formally, "Giuseppe Salvatore, Count of Mörkt trä, Earl of Skydda."

He speaks English fluently so Bonnie knows that there wasn't a mistranslation there.

Count?…Earl?

"Damon…?" she says his name like a question as she drops back down into her chair in shock, the Count and Earl sitting down in what she now realised was his seat.

Damon manages to look slightly guilty, "I wanted you to fall in love with me, Bon-Bon," he sips at his tea, clearly forgetting that it wasn't bourbon,

"Besides, I was disowned, so it's not like you'd be getting anything out of the marriage anyway."

"Besides your love, Damon." Elena interjected pointedly and Bonnie sent her a thankful glance.

"Actually," Giuseppe said as he took Nadia's hand, kissing it the same way he'd kissed Bonnie's,

"After seeing what you've made of yourself, sans name, title or privilege of any kind, I might be interested in reinstating you within the family."

Damon only scowled, "I'm not playing games or dancing to your tune, Dad, I'm living my own life."

Giuseppe casts his eyes to Nadia pointedly, and smiles in what could almost be perceived to be a friendly manner,

"And I'm interested in hearing all about that life," he turns to her,

"Tell me everything about your enterprise Ms Bennett, I know that in my day we didn't have such options available but now it seems that everyone in Valhalla is interested in environmental sustainability, what do you know about solar energy? I would be interested in helping you extend your business to Valhalla, I'm sure I would be quite useful when it came to the red tape."

Stefan cleared his throat, "Uh, father, the Ministry heads were retired en masse, remember?"

Giuseppe gives a little chuckle, "You think I was referring to those corrupt idiots?! No, Stefan, when it comes to power, you never kiss the foot of the man on the throne, but his second, the one who holds the true power."

Something in his tone, even though he's trying to be warm and light-hearted, warns Bonnie that this isn't a man to mess with. She gives him a polite smile, just like the one she'd seen Caroline give many a time during fundraisers, "Black Cat is still establishing itself in America but perhaps next year?"

He nods, "Of course, but I must insist that you both come to Kattegat for the coronation, I've already spoken to the Master of Ceremonies about providing you with places."

Bonnie nearly dropped her spoon, "Coronation?"

She doesn't even bother addressing Damon but turns to Elena and raises her eyebrows,

"Um…my older sister is engaged to the next King of Valhalla, so well…"

"We're expected to be there as a whole family unit," Giuseppe interrupted as Elena blushed,

"And what better day to introduce my future daughter-in-law into society? She can wear Lilly's pearls, they would look stunning, don't you agree Damon?"

Damon looks as though he's currently biting through his tongue and wears a sarcastic smile on his face,

"Hey, why don't we go for a walk in the courtyard, get some fresh air?"

Nadia's head shoots up with an adorable confused frown but Stefan and Elena distract her while Bonnie, Damon and Giuseppe walk across the foyer, into the hall that leads to the courtyard.

"Why are you really here?" Damon demands under his breath and Bonnie tries to figure out why his speaking so softly, not that it matters, Giuseppe clearly heard him.

"You truly believe that I have some ulterior motive?" he queries, his cane tapping softly on the bricks as they walk,

"Perhaps I simply wanted to reunite with my eldest son? I am proud of what you're accomplishing, and that you have allied yourself with an educated woman, building her own fortune."

"I'm not Stefan," Damon points out, "I don't like to pretend that there's any good in you, why are you really here?"

There's so much pain behind those words that Bonnie instinctively wants to protect him, and shifts her weight slightly so that she's creating as much of a barrier as possible between the two men.

Giuseppe exhales, "If you must know, I wanted to make a public show of my happiness for your engagement, to show how proud I am to have Ms Bennet in the family. That way, when she enters Valhallan society, the issue of her race won't be so troublesome and, so that when the scandal of Gia Mohan comes to light, people won't be able to point and claim that our desire to be rid of her is based on race."

Damon frowns in confusion, "Who the hell is Gia?"

When Miranda had been a little girl, like all little girls, she'd dreamed about being a princess.

About living in a castle and wearing beautiful gowns and always being happy.

For her, it had been a method of escape from the unhappy, mediocre reality that had been her life.

And as she'd grown older, the desire for wealth, for prestige, for what others had, hadn't gone away. Instead it had grown, especially in Valhalla, where palaces, chateaus, manors and castles dotted the landscape. Where royalty and nobility graced the papers. Miranda had been a beautiful girl, watching as these less beautiful, less talented girls had the world handed to them simply because they were the daughters of blue bloods. She'd promised herself then that one day, she would have everything they had.

But how to attain it?

She was beautiful, so she became a model.

Her face was her ticket to society. First, as a trinket on the arms of rich men and then, as she rose higher and higher, their girlfriends.

She had originally planned to move to the United Kingdom, to London where she had seen the Russians buying up Soho and thought that, as a European, she would be a cultured beauty. However, the British nobles weren't only snobbish, they were, for the most part, either impoverished, xenophobic or both. Their mothers either looked down on her or looked at her and saw dollar signs.

So she'd come home to Valhalla and found the noblemen more than happy to marry her, but again, very few of them had wealth and those that did, wanted things from her that she was unwilling to give. Her agency for starters and any future where she was anything other than a trophy wife.

Then she had met Alexander, the second-generation nobleman, who had invited her to Rose Seng, a manor house to be sure, not a palace or chateau, but had made it clear that he wasn't looking for a trophy but a woman to be his partner and matriarch of the house.

A house that she would redecorate to her own desires and a man with ambition in his eye and- most importantly- his mother in the grave and his father more interested in music and charity than interfering with her marriage or getting in her way.

The people from her life before, her parents and friends from childhood had been so awestruck by her good fortune, while the friends that she'd made on her ambitious path considered her to have settled, a woman who could have made a much more brilliant match.

However, she had trusted her instincts and in the end, she had a doting husband, two beautiful daughters and a position at Court.

And most importantly- a title and a manor house.

Every season she loved opening up Rose Seng, letting the public come in and admire the history, the new design and the gardens. She loved the pride she felt as people queued up at the gatehouse to buy tickets.

"Look at me," she wanted to tell them, "Look at what I've accomplished and who I've become."

Which is why, even with all the security hassle, she wouldn't dream of cancelling the open house when the King was in residence. How could she resist letting people know that, the King himself, stayed in her house? That he considered it a home and her daughter- the future Queen- walked with him through the same gardens and sat with him in the same parlours where the tourists took endless photos. How could she resist showing off her little piece of history?

So that morning, when the staff from the National Heritage trust arrived to set up the ticket office and the guided tours, she met them in the entry hall,

"Good morning," she greeted them with a proud smile, "I'm afraid security is going to be tight today, both His Majesty the King and the Crown Prince are in residence, but the family shall be staying in our regular, closed to the public areas so…"

She frowns as the house phone rings, honestly, she'd forgot that antique was still connected,

"Do excuse me."

"Rose Seng Manor, Baroness Petrova speaking," she trilled into the phone, never getting used to being able to say that.

"This is Giuseppe," the voice on the other end replies smoothly, "I shall be arriving is your district in an hour with Nadia, I shall see you then."

Giuseppe Salvatore, never one to be accused of being verbose. He'd never been one to relax etiquette, even though they were in-laws.

He'd also never forgiven them for snatching up the one son remaining to him, although he clearly loved their granddaughter.

Miranda sighs as she placed the phone back in the receiver and turns to find that the staff, who'd all worked in the house before, were managing everything without her instruction, there was really nothing for her to do and no reason for her to linger in the hall, to 'accidentally' be spotted by the public.

Disgruntled, she heads upstairs to where her family and the royals were breakfasting in her sitting room.

Nadia announced Giuseppe's arrival before the butler had time to do so, she ran ahead and burst into the sitting room, wearing a brand new dress,

"I met Bonnie!" she announced excitedly, "And I'm gonna be a flower girl!"

Miranda smiles indulgently at her granddaughter, she was so boisterous, she never remembered Katherine or Elena being so loud or ungraceful. It didn't help that she was clearly spoiled by Stefan and Elena, or that the King treated her with so little decorum, picking her up and letting her eat off his plate. Miranda had examined the royal personages in their private setting enough times to know that they had no idea how to interact with one another as a normal family unit, yet she rather thought that Elijah overdid it in his attempts to learn.

Giuseppe bows when he enters the room, his hands gripping his cane as he observes them all, his eyes settling on Caroline.

"I do not believe I've had the pleasure," he extended his hand, "Lord Salvatore."

Caroline stood quickly and gave him her hand, "It is nice to meet you," she says in almost perfect-albeit accented Valhallan- "My name is Caroline Forbes."

Katerina's friend was a pretty little thing, intelligent too and eager to please, Miranda had watched her around her daughter and seen that she truly appeared to care for her, almost mothering her which she supposed was good for her eldest daughter at least, she'd always seemed overeager for love.

She had been annoyed to see how taken the Crown Prince Niklaus was with her, however. Not that Miranda had had any set plans for him, except that she would have preferred to have matched him with a lady of the Court, someone from a powerful family to link with the Petrova name. Better yet, someone who wasn't so pretty as to risk drawing attention away from her daughter, at least not until after the wedding, not until she was pregnant and at risk of appearing less than perfectly beautiful in public.

Giuseppe strode to the window and looked out onto the sprawling gardens, noting the stables and the carriage shed that had been converted into a small factory for making rose flavoured jam to be sold in the gift shop down the road.

"Alexander, I never have had the chance to see your factory and Nadia regales me with stories about how delicious the jam is, perhaps you could show me how it is made?"

If the younger generations hadn't been distracted plying Nadia for details about the newest addition to the Salvatore family, perhaps they would have noticed this ploy.

Miranda however, stood up determinedly and took her husband's arm,

"I'll come with," she said, leaving no room for argument, "I could use the fresh air."

Giuseppe clearly is put out by this, mistaking her words for misunderstanding but Miranda was no fool. He wanted to talk Court matters over with her husband and Miranda was as much a partner in building the Petrova dynasty as she was in her marriage. She wasn't a silly trophy wife to be left behind while men talked business.

"Very well." he allows, apprising her with interest.

The three of them stride down quickly to the factory and Alexander leads them straight to the office where he oversaw production. Giuseppe scans the area with sharp eyes.

"Will we be overheard?" he asks cautiously but she shakes her head, "This area is closed to the public and security does bug sweeps when Elijah comes to visit."

He nods, "Good, what we need to discuss shall have to remain private as long as possible."

For a moment fear chills her veins, she racks her brain quickly trying to figure out what secret it is that he's uncovered, or perhaps there was trouble in Elena and Stefan's marriage?

"What is it?" Alexander asks brusquely and she can tell that he's as worried as she is.

Giuseppe clears his throat, "Are you two aware that your son-in-law to be has a mistress?"

Rebekah was sure that she had the wrong address.

Absolutely certain.

But she checked it again and again on her phone, matching it with the picture she'd pulled off the internet and decided that it either had to be right or some great joke.

Why in the name of the gods would her brother the King, the King of Valhalla, the man who could have any woman he wanted, sleep with someone who lived in the student part of town?

What was he thinking?

Still, she tells her driver to wait for her on the street and hurries across the road, looking about for a doorman before realising that there isn't one and not even a reception area either.

She looks at the names on the wall, finding the one for Gia Moran and pressing the button.

For a moment she wonders if she isn't home when a voice suddenly comes over the speaker,

"Hello?"

American.

"This is Princess Rebekah," she calls loudly, "I wish to speak to you."

Silence, followed by a whispered, "What the hell?!" before the door buzzes and Rebekah pulls on it, encountering resistance before pushing and slipping through.

The elevator is tiny and the harsh lights hurt her eyes but the trip is short and when she steps into the corridor, a woman sticks her head out the door,

"Hi."

Rebekah stops and purses her lips, contemplating her.

She's not uber-astoundingly beautiful, especially because she isn't wearing make-up, her hair isn't styled and she's in jeans and a regular t-shirt, but there is potential there.

"May I come in?" Rebekah asks as she pushes past her into a tiny apartment.

It looks like a doll house, a messy dollhouse, although some attempts at quick cleaning had possibly been made.

Which means that she doesn't have a maid.

Strange.

"Does Elijah know you're here?" Gia asks, closing the door behind her and crossing her arms,

Rebekah contemplates her, she has a piercing gaze and a no-nonsense attitude that she rarely encountered.

"What does my brother see in you?" she demands as she sits on the couch,

"Tea please."

Gia's eyebrows shoot up, "Coffee or beer?"

Rebekah pouts and rolls her eyes, "Coffee then, but I don't like percolated and I take it with milk and two sugars."

"One beer coming right up."

Hmmm. Maybe Elijah liked being ordered around? Ewww, she gives a delicate little shudder at the thought.

"No," she answers as she's handed a beer- sans glass or coaster- "He doesn't know I'm here but I wanted to meet you."

"To meet me or to scare me off?" Gia snorts as she takes a swig of her beer, Rebekah sits back and regards her with interest, "You think I'd have reason to scare you off? My brother's mistress?"

Even without smiling, there's something in expressive in Gia's eyes that convey her emotions,

"I'm your brother's…mistress…for lack of a better word because I'm good at keeping secrets, I haven't told anybody that we're together and I don't ever intend to, but if you're here that means the secret could get out."

Discretion was a must for the romantic interludes of the royal siblings. Rebekah recalled all the times she'd gone on dates just to have the guy more interested in getting seen with her than actually getting to know her or making sure that they had a good time. She remembered all the times that Kol's salacious scandals had infuriated her father and all those women had come forward claiming to have slept with Elijah.

"Discretion is the better part of valour," Rebekah says, quoting Shakespeare and when Gia salutes her with her beer, she's surprised,

"I'm a violinist with the Valhallan symphony orchestra," she points out, in mild offence,

"You honestly think I don't know Shakespeare?"

"Do you love my brother?" Rebekah demands, getting straight to the heart of the matter and feeling annoyed when Gia shrugs noncommittally,

"I care deeply about the parts of him that he's willing to share with me."

Both an answer and a non-answer.

Rebekah tilts her head and tries to figure out an easier way to ask the question before diving right in, "Enough to fight his fiancée for him?"

Gia puts her beer down and shakes her head, "Nope. Elijah always made it clear that his fiancée is his one and only, I knew when she came back that he and I would be over and done with."

Rebekah gave a delicate scoff and crossed her arms, "You can't be serious?!" she snaps,

"What kind of woman has the chance to win over the King and settles for being his side-piece?"

"The kind of woman who drinks beer, cares more about her violin than her shoes and wouldn't want to be queen for all the tea in China." Gia responds with a sarcastic smile and Rebekah stamps her foot, jumping up,

"I'm disappointed in you," she tells her, "I can't believe that you're the woman my brother chose, one who won't even fight to save him from his mistakes."

She turns her back pointedly and stomps to the door before Gia calls out,

"Wait!"

Rebekah stops, still refusing to turn around but her next question has the princess' blood running cold. "Is he hurting himself again? Is that why you're here?"

Rebekah spun on her heel, "What?!"

Gia sighed and ran her hands through her hair, "Shit, I shouldn't have told you but, someone has to know in case I'm not there…when I first met your brother, he would drag his nails up and down his arms and legs, sometimes leaving scratch marks there for hours, sometimes breaking the skin, he always said that the problem with being the Crown Prince is that he wasn't allowed to shed his own blood, not even in private," She swallows, "It took me months to get him to stop."

Elijah had hurt himself?! Physically hurt himself?

If word got out…

The rich and powerful were allowed to go crazy in a way that the normal citizens were not. When they did cocaine or drank themselves stupid, they were called wild or rebellious, when someone in the masses did it, they were called addicts.

This gave the royals some leeway in destructive behaviour but physically harming oneself, any display or act that could be linked to mental illness would place Elijah in danger of losing his throne.

And she hadn't been there to help him.

"She did that to him," Rebekah spat, holding her head up quickly lest the tears fall and ruin her mascara,

"Damn Katerina Petrova, she ruined him, she ruined everything. She made Kol fall in love with her and then cheated on him with my brother, then she dragged my mother away to Ensamhet and never even told us that she was sick until she was dying and it was too late. Then she ran away and left my brother alone for five years."

She hurried over to the coffee table, sitting down and taking Gia's hands,

"You don't understand," she blurts out, "Katerina doesn't love my brother, she only wants to be queen and she doesn't care about him, not like you must if you've been protecting him all this time…please help me, I can't lose him to her and his own suffering."

For the longest time, Gia looks at her, studying her intently but obviously doesn't see any falsehood there because she squeezes her hands and gives her the tiniest smile,

"Okay," she surrenders, "If Elijah wants to be fought for, I'll fight for him."

A/N- There we go. Please let me know what you think but no, bugging me to update does not fucking work. I'm a uni student doing my MA, I don't always have the time and the energy to update as frequently as you would all like. I do this work for free, unless you all want to start paying me to update at which point I'd be more motivated to keep to a more satisfactory schedule.