Disclaimer - Richelle Mead owns Vampire Academy.
(Also, would you like disclaimers like the one above, or disclaimers like little dialogues?)
Ch.1 DPOV
"Relax, Dimka, you're fidgeting," my mother chided me as I smoothed my suit for the hundredth time. "All you have to do is talk to King Mazur."
"All?" Karo asked our mother. "It's not going to be that easy. Dimka's going to be talking to King Ibrahim Mazur, for goodness's sake."
"He's going to pull the threats, deals, and verbal trickery." Sonya interjected.
"Are you talking about King Mazur of Moroi Turkey?" my nephew, Paul asked his mother, Karolina.
"I guess so," Vika yawned from the sofa, crossing her legs. "But I don't see what the fuss is about. He doesn't get out much these days."
"Does this have anything to do with Rose Hathaway?" Karolina wondered.
"Her Royal Highness Princess Rosemarie Hathaway, Karo," Mama said in a disapproving tone. "I don't see how that can happen, though," she added, signaling for the maids to comb my hair.
"Unless she wants to marry him," Vika muttered. Sonya and Karolina laughed at her comment.
"Is there some joke I'm missing?" I asked them.
"Of course," Vika said. "Princess Rose is famous for turning out prospective suitors from the castle. Particularly with that area, you know..." She made a gesture that gave me a faint idea of what Rose Hathaway did.
I'd met her once, when she was seven and I fourteen, at her mother's funeral. She'd been distraught at the time, with only her dhampir half-brother Eddie sitting beside her, his hand over hers in a comforting gesture. Even then, I'd seen plenty of nobles who'd attended the funeral ogle her slim hourglass figure. As we had to offer condolences, I'd approached her with my sisters. She was strong, I knew, the fire of determination burning in her eyes. I'd wondered if she'd specialized in the more destructive elements, like spirit, fire, earth, or darkness. Her father, King Ibrahim Mazur, had gotten earth for his main and fire for his second.
Me? Darkness for my second and spirit for my main. Bad enough that spirit users were rare. I knew a few: Adrian Ivashkov, son of Nathan Ivashkov, the great-nephew of Her Royal Majesty the High Queen Tatiana Ivashkov. And then there was Her Moroi Royal Highness Princess Vasilisa Dragomir: last of her line, princess of one of the biggest kingdoms. Ever since that Spring Equinox, I'd researched every thing about Vasilisa Dragomir in search of her dark-haired tanned-skin dhampir friend. She was a Spirit user, her parents had died when she was a teenager, blah blah, everything everyone knew about her. There was nothing about a dhampir friend. Another spirit user was Robert Doru, half-brother of His Majesty King Victor Dashkov.
Dark users were almost nonexistent. I didn't know anyone who used it. It left me wondering what I could achieve with it.
Karo chortled. "I don't think that Dimka would let her though. I doubt she'd manage to do much damage."
"Girls," Mama sighed. "Karo, go make sure everything is ready. Sonya, calm down the babies and recheck the guest rooms. Vika, please don't talk as much as you do normally when they arrive. I have to check a lot of things, so can you please accompany me, Dimka?"
I followed her.
"You must be wondering why I called you," Mama said in a quiet voice. "King Mazur is going to be meeting with your father. He's bringing King Edison and Princess Rosemarie along."
I knew what she was going to ask me, and staying true to my predictions, she fixed her stern gaze on my face. "Do not block your father from hitting her. She's more than capable of protecting herself."
"Do you know her, Mama?" I seriously doubted she could have learned so much about the Dhampir Princess of Turkey from the news and magazines.
"My mother is friends with King Mazur," Mama said, grimacing. "Rosemarie Hathaway might be young, but she has a brilliant mind and a temper. If you interfere with her battles, you might find yourself in a lake in the middle of nothing. She might make a good match," she added, looking at me meaningfully.
"Do I have to?" I asked. "I thought you wanted me to marry Lady Natasha Ozera." Moroi royalty was so convoluted that only the oldest member of the family or clan had the title of Prince and Princess. Everyone was related to each other one way or another.
"That was before I knew she was available. She only turned eighteen last month. In fact, I forgot about her until Karolina mentioned her."
"And?"
"She's quite beautiful," my mother continued. "Smart."
"But what about Tasha -"
My mother sighed. "Natasha might be able to give you children, but she doesn't understand you like you need. I'll ask if her father wants to make an alliance."
I left my mother in a daze. She'd suggested me marry the Turkish dhampir princess. I might have met her before, but that didn't mean I knew her. No one messed with King Mazur. His guardians weren't the problem, and he had an army of them. It was his wrath that was feared. He was not one to be trifled with. I most certainly did not want to be the one who broke his daughter's heart.
Rosemarie Hathaway. From what I'd heard of the rumors, her brother, Edison Castile, was super protective of her. Not only that, but he had been the General of Mazur's army before he'd become king. Edison was trained, and I had no doubt that he loved his sister. Like a brother should.
She would be beautiful, if I had to guess, if she'd grown from her seven-year-old adorable looks into a proper woman.
Flashing dark eyes, brown hair, a black dress - no.
That had been my dream for a month now, since meeting the girl who had unwittingly stolen a fraction of my heart. I woke up every night reaching for her so we could continue to talk, to dance.
To marry Rose Hathaway would feel like like a betrayal to her.
Unless... She was Rose Hathaway.
A servant-girl ran up towards me. "Your Majesty," she said, dipping into a curtsey, "Her Grace wants you to report to the library in a half hour."
"Thank you," I told her. Some royals may ignore their servants, but in the end, it's them who gives them the lavish lifestyle they're used to. Servants cleaned the clothes, organized their stuff. Mama believed in respecting them, and my sisters and I followed her example.
A half hour to burn off before I had to meet my mother in the library. Without wrinkling the suit I'd put on. That meant I couldn't go to the gym to work out.
I retreated back to my room, where I sat down on one of the couches and opened my western novel. It was one of my favorites, which was saying something. I normally didn't open myself up to emotion, but there was something about how how Margaret Mitchell wrote Gone With The Wind that tugged at my heart. Especially with the last sentence - 'After all, tomorrow is another day'.
The truth was, when I'm reading, I lose myself in the book and forget everything else. So, when the time came to go to the library, I forgot. Literally.
Luckily for me, I'd set the timer in my phone to ring after fifteen minutes, so that I could make sure I was presentable and still be able to make it in time.
I pulled my hair up into a ponytail and glanced in the mirror. The usual view greeted me, and I was surprised why it felt... different somehow.
I still looked like I did yesterday. My shoulder-length brown hair, matched with my serious brown ones - my six foot seven body, muscles covering my form - muscles earned from hours and hours in the gym. At the back of my neck my six molnijas stood in sharp contrast with my tanned skin.
Then why did it feel like I had changed?
My mother and sisters were waiting for me in the sunlight-filled library. We had sun-tinted windows that could be placed in front of the normal glass, for Moroi convenience, should they come visit.
When I walked in, Karolina was busy telling Paul to stop fidgeting, Sonya was talking to Viktoria - more arguing than talking, on second glance - and Mama was telling the Head guardian in our house, Hans Croft, that we needed to get more silver stakes.
Instead of waiting patiently and trying to figure out the reason why they were acting this way, I asked Karolina, who had stopped telling her son off, "What's happening?"
If I had waited to know, it would undoubtedly be a long time before I would know what was happening.
Karo was the most reliable of all of us, and she normally would know everything, as she was the eldest. Smart and always able talk her way out of a situation, everyone loved her charming wit, cheerful personality and caring spirit.
Sonya was the spitfire, the one who couldn't control her emotions. She also swore so much behind closed doors it was a wonder, Mama said, that she was born into this family.
Vika was the baby, the youngest. She was carefree and lighthearted in a way that Karo, Sonya, and I tried to protect her from the backstabbing nature of politics.
As the eldest, Mama entrusted Karo with as much valuable information as she did me.
So, it was a surprise when Karolina frowned and shrugged. "Ask Mama," she told me. "I don't know why Guardian Croft and Mama are acting this way."
Sonya had heard our conversation. "I thought if Guardian Croft wanted to say something he would report to you, Dimka."
It was true. Since I was king, any business that involved the country would automatically be reported to me.
I strode over to my mother and Hans.
"Excuse me, Guardian Croft," I said politely. "Would you mind telling me what the fuss is about?"
Mama raised her eyebrow at Hans. "Princess Rosemarie is bringing her best friend, Princess Vasilisa Dragomir, and Princess Vasilisa's boyfriend Christian Ozera."
Wait, what? It couldn't mean... Could the girl I'd danced with at the ball a month ago be Rosemarie Hathaway?
"And we have to figure out how to protect all of them," Hans added.
Vika, having stopped arguing with Sonya a while ago, now asked, "Don't they have guardians of their own?"
Mama sighed. "They probably do, and that's the problem. We have no idea how many dhampirs they've bought."
Babushka walked in, looked at us talking, and interrupted. "They'll be here in thirty minutes," she said in Russian, then walked back out.
Mama flew into a panic. It wasn't everyday when the Turkish royal family and their friends visited us.
Especially when she wanted to talk to the King of Turkish Moroi. And he her.
Thirty minutes later, I stood in front of our home, waiting for the Mazur family and their friends. Mama had made us memorize their names, and I now silently recited them over and over again in my head.
King Ibrahim Mazur, King Edison Castile, Princess Rosemarie Hathaway, Princess Vasilisa Dragomir, Lord Christian Ozera. And their guardians.
My father joined us, and I shot a scowl in his direction. He had a habit of hitting women. And using them for sex and blood. In short, he made them his personal blood whore. When I threw him out of the dhampir palace, we only saw him politically. What he was doing here, I had no idea.
A few cars, which I easily recognized to be bullet proof, made its way towards us. The gates parted for them, and I felt myself holding a breath as they came closer.
The first person to come out from the cars was a man. He was tanned, dressed so flashily my eyes hurt. "Lena," he greeted, adjusting his scarf.
"Abe," my mother inclined her head.
So this was Ibrahim Mazur. His thick black hair was shiny and lustrous in a way I've never seen a man have. His black eyes narrowed on my father, then moved to me. "Interesting," he murmured. "The son looks nothing like the father. Maybe not even close in personalities."
His musing was interrupted by a blonde coming out of a car, with a black-haired boy who looked very reluctant to be here. "Ah, Vasilisa, Christian. I was wondering when you'd join us. Where's my daughter and son?" Ibrahim Mazur said, glancing at the two teenagers.
Princess Vasilisa shrugged. "Going at it in the back. You're lucky it's not Christian and Rose." She laughed, her jade-green eyes lighting up. Lord Christian Ozera caught me staring at his girlfriend and visibly glared at me.
"Someone's jealous!" A girl's voice sang out.
"I am not, Rosie."
"Oh, but you are. We can see, you know." the sandy haired boy from the Spring Equinox, the boy who had been with the dark haired girl, made his way towards us. And at his side, it was her.
Edison Castile and Rosemarie Hathaway.
Lord help me, she was even more beautiful than I imagined.
Updated 13/3/2024