Book Two: Anastasia
'Tis Now the very witching time of night,
When churchyards yawn and hell itself breathes out
Contagion to this world: now could I drink hot blood,
And do such bitter business, as the day
Would quake to look on.
Hamlet: Hamlet, Act III, scene ii
Preface Volterra, Italy: A long time ago
She stood on a towering wall overlooking the Tuscan countryside. Though she appeared to be twelve years old, she hadn't yet been on the earth a decade. Her hair hung in angel-blond ringlets that fell over her white dress. Her blue eyes, flecked with red, watched as Demetri and her father came out to join her. Demetri was leaving.
"Papá," Anastasia called to Aro.
"Yes cariña," Aro said to his daughter, meaning "loved one" in the language of her mother.
"Where is Demetri going?" she wondered.
Aro smiled. "Demetri is taking care of something for your papá," he said.
"What sort of something?" she asked precociously.
Aro's smile widened, though his tone was serious as he answered. "Demetri is doing something that will protect us," he told her. "We have peace and order as vampires because of it." Ana watched longingly as Demetri made his preparations to go.
Aro placed his hand on top of her head, and her thoughts filled his mind. Then Aro bent down on one knee and put his arms around the girl. "You will get to go along soon cariña," he said as her eyes looked into his. "Once you are grown, you will get to do things for me." He brushed a blond curl out of her face and then continued. "And when you are grown, my Anastasia, you will be far more powerful than Demetri or anyone else I know."
Ana's face lit up at that prospect. She was eager for that power; eager to be a part of something good and necessary. When she was grown, she would make her father proud.