Disclaimer: I do not own Vampire Academy or anything surrounding it (but I do own this plot :D)
JPOV
I zipped up the last of my bags and glanced around my room. No point getting sentimental now as when I walked out that door, I wasn't coming back. Deciding to do just that, I slung a strap over my shoulder and clasped my fingers round the suitcase handle before proceeding to walk towards the door. All my other possessions had been or were about to be transported onto the plane and the room that was left was a bare shell – you could not imagine someone had been living here for most of their life. But yet, that is how it was when I first arrived so a sense of circular completion had been achieved and gave me enough closure to walk straight out the room, without one last lingering look.
I made my way over to the Moroi dorms to find Harriet. What I found was Emyl standing one of her many suitcases whilst she desperately tugged at the zipper.
"Jenny! Oh, good we could use a little muscle." Emyl looked up where he was instructing Harriet on how to zip up a bag when I gently knocked on the door.
"Hey!" Harriet said, taking a little offense from Emyl's comment before sighing as acceptance fell upon her, "No, he's right."
I smiled and dropped my bag on the floor. I wandered over, took Harriet's place and Emyl and I had the bag zipped up and closed within two minutes. Harriet was going back to Court to be with her family. She had put in a request for two guardians but was only issued with one: Emyl. I had been assigned to Court to which Harriet had expressed great outraged but was much too polite to make any sort of fuss. Thus, I was only travelling with them to get my next assignment, but I highly doubted that we would part ways when we got there.
I was assuming I had my mother to blame for this particular outcome. You see, she was in the firm belief that I was simply not 'responsible' enough to handle a Personal Guardian role and that I should get some practise in the field of being a Court Guardian. To be fair, I could build a fierce reputation much more easily as a Court Guardian than I could as a Personal Guardian, but that was hardly the point. I liked Harriet and I liked Emyl: I wouldn't have minded working with and for them for the rest of my life.
But alas…
"Jeez, Harriet, how much stuff do you have?" Emyl said frowning intently at the seven big bags that lay before him.
"Hey, a girl is going to have a lot of stuff. Isn't that right Janine?" she turned to me and her face fell when she saw my two bags. I shrugged as Emyl's face grew smug once again.
"You were really going to employ Janine Hathaway to back you up on something 'girly'." He chuckled and Harriet flashed him a glare.
"Don't be so mean, you saw her at the dance: she looked wonderful." Harriet defended and Emyl dropped the smug smile in place of a genuine kind one. I felt a little taken back by her comment, but Harriet was always defending everyone so I really shouldn't have been too surprised.
Though her defence did have another effect.
As we were lugging ourselves over to the plane, Emyl and I carrying some of Harriet's bags and her and Emyl teasing each other about their possessions, my mind went back to the dance.
When Ibrahim left, I can honestly say I was a little flustered. I had never been in such a situation before and I really did not know what the protocol was. I watched him wander over to the group of guys and start engaging in what appeared to be a rather intense conversation. His eyes met mine and his lips twitched upward before I realised I should stop staring.
Forcing my body round, I mentally slapped myself repeatedly for being so unprofessional. I suddenly remembered there was still a rose behind my ear and was quick to remove it and throw it in the nearest bin; I think out of fear more than anything else.
I elected to leave after that: I knew Guardian Peters had seen me so he could not lecture me for 'not attending' considering I did…for a bit.
The evening pretty much ended there for me. The rest of the school continued to party until silly o'clock in the morning whilst I decided to finish packing everything up and then realise I had nothing to do. Sighing, I pulled a book – not a fictional one of course, for one would not call me an 'avid' reader per say, but the Guardian Handbook that we dhampir's treated as our very own Bible – and spent the night on my bed, revising how to be the best guardian I could.
I could feel the very same book jabbing my leg as it was tucked under the seat in the plane. I considered getting it out again, but accepted that I was already positioned in a comical way and getting what was essentially a textbook out would just add more humour to the situation. You see, I was sitting in a three astride row with myself in the aisle, Harriet at the window – getting way too over excited about 'how small everything is' – finally coupled with Emyl in the middle who, in possibly the most amusing turn of events, seemed fixated on clawing the life out of the cushioned arm rest as he sat tense and in fear of the fact that we were flying.
"I didn't know you were scared of planes…" I said teasingly as a high-pitched, trembling sigh escaped his lips when the plane jolted through a little turbulence.
"Jenny…" he said as evenly as he could, "if we survive this...I'm going to kill you." I sat back chuckling as Harriet squealed at a microscopic settlement whilst tugging against Emyl's tensed bicep, evidently too entertained by what was outside to notice poor, little Emyl's current dilemma. Resting my head back on the headrest, I let the soft murmur of conversation lull me to sleep and I allowed myself to sink into blissful unconsciousness for the remainder of the fight.
I awoke many hours later to the sound of the pilot telling us we had landed. Many of the plane's passengers had arisen from the seats and we mulling around, prying bags from tight over-head compartments and stretching out ten and a half hours of sitting down. I tilted my head from side to side, cracking out the strain it had acquired. Harriet had all but jumped from her seat and sprung over Emyl and I's laps to get ready to depart the metal beast. Emyl, on the other hand, seemed to be almost meditating as he sat, with closed eyes, in a rigid position.
I waved a palm in front of his face but he did not respond. I frowned and used the index finger of the same hand to poke his right arm.
"What-is-it-what-happened-where-are-we?!" his eyes sprang open and the words fumbled out all in one. My initial shock became quickly overcome by the rather difficult task of suppressing my full-blown laughter. Noticing this, Emyl's tense, 'ready to fight' body relaxed into a scowled and not amused manner.
"Just letting you know we are on the ground." I said, continuing to bite back my amusement.
His scowled deepened as his bit the inside of his cheek, "Not funny, Jenny."
"Janine, Emyl, come on!" A harmonic voice sang through the plane as Harriet poked her head back through the door before all but skipping off the plane. Emyl elbowed my side and I looked at him disapprovingly before we rose, got our bags and – much to Emyl's delight – got off the plane.
Like the good guardian and gentleman he was, Emyl trailed behind Harriet, helping her carry her bags as she flung herself at her awaiting family. A pang of jealousy shot through me as I watched Harriet's mother embrace her in a tight hug but I was quick to shut it down.
"And this is Emyl, my new guardian." Harriet introduced, all but dragging her relations towards the muscular guardian, who had seemingly quickly gotten over his flying phobia to make himself look a little more presentable.
"Emyl?! Good gracious, is that you?!" Harriet's mother, Julia, stated with widened eyes and genuine shock plastered across her face. We had met Harriet's family once before but it was absolutely years ago – long before any of us had hit puberty. Let's just say, scrappy, spotty Emyl with the long side fringe and below average height proved of great contrast to the guardian standing before her today.
Emyl gave a respectful smile and nod. "Yes, Lady Conta."
"Oh, come now: it is Julia. Drop those ridiculous customs; you are part of the family now." she chastised waving his formality off with her hand. "And I am assuming the lovely Janine…" she grinned, turning on me.
"Yes, ma'am." I smiled and I too was met with the 'look'.
"It's Julia for you too, young lady. No matter where you are assigned, you are always welcome under our roof." She assured sternly before letting loose a radiant smile, that resided so often in Harriet, and engulfed the Emyl and myself in a strong hug; rather impressive considering how Emyl towered above both of us, myself in particular.
After Julia relinquished her grip, the rest of the introductions were made. Robert and Tamara Conta, I already knew from our last visit. They were Harriet's aunt and uncle and had become a lot more involved in her life after the death of her father. Anton Conta's demise was tragic to say the least – caught in a Strigoi attack whilst he was on holiday away from Court – and I don't think either Julia or Harriet ever really recovered. Consequently, it was not a topic that Harriet frequently indulged and her kind and tempered personality would falter to one of quick lashes. Julia, on the other hand, always appeared to bear a somewhat haunted look in her expression which she, much like her daughter, covered with her kind disposition. Regardless though, she was immensely grateful when her husband's brother and his wife offered their aid.
The other two men, I did not know. The elder was a Sergey Kravitz: a stout Moroi of nearly fifty with an uncharacteristically intimidating disposition. He reminded me a little of Ibrahim, but the illusion was broken at the sight of his tremendous moustache. I saw Emyl's impassive composure falter and I had to stifle my own giggle. Sergey was apparently an old friend of Julia's who was at Court on a matter of business. The nature of this business was not divulged and instantly made me more wary of the elder Moroi. The second man was introduced as his son, Alistair. Thankfully, Alistair had the good sense not to have his face half covered by a moustache; indeed, he appeared to have a superior sense of fashion than most as his attire was flawless. Or so Harriet told me. She seemed a little bewitched by the man and it was hardly surprising: Alistair was incredibly attractive. Even I had to admit that. He appeared to defy the usual lanky stature that befell most male Moroi in trade of a figure that could rival a Dhampir. He retained the pale complexion but his thick, blonde hair arranged into a neat quiff and deep blue eyes meant that his pale skin-tone became him. In fact, the only fault I could perceive was in his countenance and that is where he lost my good opinion:
He knew he was hot.
I had to stop my scowl as I saw his smug and self-satisfied grin at Harriet's flustered attempt at an introduction. His light flirtation and laughing eyes appeared to be mocking my friend and also did not go unnoticed by Emyl whose stoic demeanour could not hide the rage pulsing in his eyes.
"Let's all go inside – it is getting rather chilly out here." Julia suggested and with that, the group made their way off the runway and into the east wing of the Royal Court. The Conta and Kravitz's guardians flanked our journey until we were all inside. I watched and mentally noted all their actions and tactics, storing them for future use, but also trying a few out as I walked. I saw Emyl doing the same as we walked behind the large group, acting as the near guardians. Harriet had linked her arm with her mothers and the others all appeared in light conversation with each other as we walked into the entrance.
It was quite a walk between the entrance to the runway and the actual east wing. I was mapping as I went, putting my training to good use and memorising the maze of corridors that finally lead us to the housing in the east wing. Each part of the Royal Court was divided into essentially families. Whilst some did mix, many appeared fixed into their birth groups. Harriet had briefed me once on the society at Court: the Ivashkovs occupied the largest and grandest wing but the Conta's placement in the eastern wing was not unworthy of praise. It had only been three years since the abdication of Ekaterina Zeklos and the coronation of Tatiana Ivashkov, but the Ivashkovs were already lapping up all the perks of having one of their own in power. The other eleven families seemed to put up with this, albeit begrudgingly (some more than most). After Tatiana's coronation, many feared for the change; Ekaterina had been on the throne for shy of fifty years and the vampiric world had known a steady and solid peace during that time. The prospect of a new, younger monarch had caused tension to grow, but Tatiana appeared to withhold a more traditional mindset which was met with some relief, but also some wariness.
As we approached Julia Conta's housing, Harriet broke away from her mother and came to walk beside me.
"You looked a little lonely back there, Janine," she commented, nudging my shoulder, "not what you were expecting?"
I smiled. "A wee bit overwhelming, perhaps." I admitted. Harriet smiled and wrapped her slender arms around my own and resting her head on my shoulder as we continued to walk.
"Oh, please don't worry: I just know you are going to be absolutely amazing." She reassured.
"Thank you," I replied, smiling gently. She lifted her head and grinned over at me as her mother invited us into her home.
"Come on in, don't be shy – lunch will be in half an hour and we've booked the feeders for one o'clock," Julia announced, smiling brightly as she ushered myself and Harriet through the door. Emyl and I had to attend a collective gathering with the head guardian which was, annoyingly, in the west wing and was to commence after lunch. The collective gathering was for all new Court and personal guardians and was a compulsory event in which we would receive – most likely – an incredibly dull talk on how 'important' we were (and by that, they meant how sacrificial) before the administration process began. The thought brought a grimace to my face, but I was quick to compose myself when Alastair Kravitz walked towards me.
"Hello, I don't believe I've had the pleasure," he said, extending his arm towards me, "Alastair."
"Guardian Hathaway," I replied only just succeeding in keeping my tone polite as I saw his smug approach.
He quirked an eyebrow and took back his unshaken hand. "What? No first name?" he queried with a slight pout.
I resisted the scowl. "I do not think it proper since I am in the service of the Court, therefore in the service of you: however indirectly it may appear." I replied with a level monotone that surprised even myself. Oh well. I thought. I didn't think I had the patience enough to suffer through a conversation with a stuck-up, proud Moroi who spent their time looking down on my kind like a vulture does a weakened wild cat.
Thoughts of Ibrahim returned to me for the third time that day and were only cemented when, against all my desires, Alastair's grin deepened and he chuckled lightly, "Oh, the cat hath claws," he said as his eyes did a full sweep of my body. I felt like punching the guy in his flawless face, but deemed it a little ironic considering the speech I had just spewed in the hope he would bugger off. "It's no matter, though," he shrugged, "your little ginger friend told me your name is Janine. But I just might call you 'Kitty' in light of your recent feline actions." He said with a teasing tone.
"Janine will suffice." I said flatly. "And her name is Harriet, by the way. Not my little 'ginger friend'." I considered correcting him and stating that Harriet's hair was actually strawberry blonde, but that may have been pushing it.
Alastair frowned faintly and inclined his head, "Oh, forgive me, Janine. Though I must ask what I have done to reward such an icy reception. You seem determined to dislike me, but you do not know me...yet. Perhaps I could change your mind?"
I looked up at him and saw sincerity which made me reconsider my harshness. Maybe I was unfairly applying my own stereotypes of his type in spite of only knowing him for less than an hour. Before the entire plotline of Pride and Prejudice could run through my mind, I decided to ease off a little as spoke again, "You could try, but I should warn you: I am very stubborn." I hoped that this would deter him; even if I was being unkind, I was not one to give the benefit of doubt and I had witnessed one too many dealings with individuals of a cocky disposition to render the likelihood of a changed opinion minimal.
Once again (and to my utter dismay) he grinned, "Ah, you Irish always are."
"I'm Scottish," I corrected.
"Oh, even worse!" I could not help rolling my eyes. "But, I never back down from a challenge, so consider yours very much accepted." He said extending his arm. I looked up at him quizzically to which he pouted again. Rolling my eyes again, I took his hand and shook it, much to his delight. "So, my name is Alastair..." he said trailing off.
Realising I wasn't going to win this, I conceded, "Janine."
"It's nice to meet you Janine. Are you assigned to Harriet too?"
"No, I am a Court Guardian."
"Ah, so your average peasant in a puddle," he grinned feverously and I had to bite back my retort, but the glare I sent him had about the same effect as the comment would. "I'm kidding. No, you are far from average..."
"So are you just here visiting Court?" I said to stop myself saying something else whilst mentally praying that his visit would be just that.
Naturally, though, I was disappointed.
"Nah, the old man has business at Court so we're going to be here a while." He explained with, what I assumed was, a seductive smirk. Not wanting to give him the satisfaction of a response, instead I cast my gaze over to where his father was standing in the corner of the large sitting room talking into his phone. He appeared a little on edge and from what I could hear through the forest that occupied his upper lip, he was agitated...and speaking Spanish?
Why was he speaking Spanish? I thought. It was strange to say the least as most Moroi in this part of the world, whilst none objected to learning other languages, stuck pretty much to Russian, Romanian – that sort of thing due to the heritage of their race. Some did venture out, but remained around the German and French area. I suppose Spain was next door, but even so. The only reason I knew it was because Emyl had gone on a holiday to said country with his family back in the fifth grade and came back practically fluent: he literally refused to speak English again for about a month.
"Oh, dad's colleagues all speak the language, so he became pretty fluent in it too." I blinked as Alistair answered my question before I realised I had said it aloud.
"Oh" was all I could say in response to that.
Alastair smiled again and sighed loudly. "Well, looks like you'll be seeing a lot more of me. How lucky for you! Ha-ha!" he laughed to himself whilst I just dreaded my impending future talks with this Moroi. Thankfully though, this one was about to be cut short.
"Mr Kravitz, might I steal Guardian Hathaway away from you." With Alistair distracted, I mouthed a 'thank you' to Emyl as he addressed the aforesaid Kravitz.
Alistair looked a little disgusted at Emyl, or more specifically his interruption, but pursed his lips together and smiled, albeit sickly. "Of course, Guardian Burlatsky," he said civilly before turning to me. He took my hand in his and bowed over to kiss it gently, "See you around, Kitty." He winked before striding over to go sweet-talk Julia.
"Thank you so much." I said as soon as Alistair was out of ear-shot. Emyl's expression softened and he chuckled lightly.
"No worries," he said shrugging before a devious grin of his own enveloped his face, "Kitty?" I glared at him which only made him laugh. I shoved him lightly as we wandered over to Harriet who held out glasses of water to us as we approached. Glancing back over my shoulder, I saw Alistair watching me and in meeting my gaze, his smile grew. I turned back and embraced the harsh revelation. I had been here less than a day and I already knew one thing:
This was most certainly not going to be easy...
