~~Antoinette~~
"Did you truly think I would not find out? Or that I would not care?" Antoinette said, staring at the five idiots in her office. The floor below the Primogen meeting, this room was similar in its cold, simple colors and shape, the giant window behind her for a wall, and one of her chairs that rivaled thrones. Before her, a desk, simple and void of anything except a laptop. The lights, white and directed to create shadows from those who stand beneath them, to shrink any who stood before her and make them appear minuscule compared to the desk, let alone her and her throne.
"I—"
"Beatrice Damor, I did not invite you here to talk. I invited you here to listen. And you will listen or I will rip your jaw from your idiot skull. Understood?"
Beatrice winced, and stood a little straighter. She was used to such grueling lectures from Garry, when she worked for the Carthians, Antoinette was sure. The difference was, Antoinette would do it.
The five idiots included Damien, Fiona, and Beatrice. And unfortunately, Natasha and Jack as well. Fiona could not wipe the grin off her face, but it seemed to be the girl's natural state; at odds with her existence as a literal nightmare.
"If I ask a question that is not obviously rhetorical, you may answer it. Until then, you five will be silent." She leaned back in her chair, folded one leg over the other, and turned so her side was to the squirming group. Her nearest hand rested on the desk, and she tapped her index finger against it. "Dolareido is in a time of flux. Since the purge, the covenants have begun to demilitarize, in a sense. The petty squabbles of the Invictus and Carthians not withstanding, Kindred violence has been decreasing steadily. Not only the violence, but the spying, the deceit, the Danse Macabre, have all lessened." And it was true. Her fruitful schemes to eliminate Viktor and Tony were, hopefully, things of the past.
But every time she took a moment to breathe, let her guard down, madness threw itself at her door. Lucas returned, but his return was short lived. His death, followed shortly by Jack's confession of love, had painted the perfect picture. Her enemies dead, her romantic interest budding into love, and all the reasons in the world to simply relax and enjoy the things she had long forgotten how to enjoy.
But, as if her happiness summoned chaos, like blood in the water, wolves and monsters alike arrived to reek havoc on her city. And the five idiots in front of her were only making things worse.
"And yet, for all my work to create a utopia for our kind, and even visitors of other races, there are those who refuse to... let the ripples settle." She gestured out to those in front of her, these fools with no respect for her goals.
The idiot children were not convinced. If anything, they seemed confused about her anger. She slammed her fist down against the table, and all five of them jumped in place.
"The Uratha are juggernauts of animal instinct, with all the subtlety of a wrecking ball. They wished for us to stay clear of the tunnels under Devil's Corner, to let them hunt their prey, for a reason. You five! Your carelessness, your interference. You could have reignited a conflict long buried."
Jack and Natasha both stepped forward, at the same time.
"We wanted to—"
"We were trying to help Fio—"
"Fiona deserved a—"
"And then Natasha went missing and—"
"Some Uratha were with me and—"
This, from her lover, and her assistant and apprentice. No, this would not do.
Antoinette got up from her chair, and walked over to the now petrified group of troublemakers. Natasha and Jack were a foot ahead of them, and with a few feet separating them, they gave Antoinette a delightful angle for her to express her rage.
Her hands snapped out at the wide-eyed, frozen two, and grabbed their jowls. Her fingers hooking under their jaws, her thumb between their teeth and pushing down on their tongues, she brought both tiny Kindred to their knees. The look of panic in their eyes was signal to continue lecturing.
"Perhaps you think yourselves familiar enough with the Prince to speak out of turn?" She glared at each one closely, leaning in, and squeezed down on the mouths of their skulls. They squirmed, wriggled, in pain and very much uncomfortable with the position. Good. "Rashness and courage, stupidity and bravery, there is a fine line and you two stepped over it. If things had gone even slightly differently, we could have more dead Kindred like so long ago. But Avery's new found prudence, reflected in her choosing Jack as the intermediary, is the first time I have ever witnessed these wolves display even an ounce of wisdom. And yet!" She squeezed harder, and both Kindred whimpered as she shook their heads like dolls. "And yet the very man she chose, violated her single request. And my fellow dragon, my subordinate, a representative of my covenant and myself, was half the reason for such madness!"
She raised her eyes to glare at the other three. Fiona had finally stopped smirking, and both Damien and Triss had taken small steps back.
She had demanded the five fools present themselves to her, after Avery had visited her to describe what had happened. Mature of her to come herself, to explain herself how the Kindred had sought Fiona's innocence, sought Natasha's safety. She had explained Jack's bravery as well, how the boy had saved their lives.
Bravery, or lunacy. Antoinette grit her teeth as she glared at her five guests. Best to squash this insolence now, before she let the Kindred under her rule turn into wild vigilantes, or other forms of courageousness risen to stupidity. The Primogen were not invited, and she would deal with their protests later. She was Prince, she had the right to demand audience with anyone she chose.
"Damien," she said, raising her eyes from the two at her mercy, "I understand you have made a contract with Maria Turio. How will she respond to this?"
The man considered, eyes falling, before he looked up to meet hers. No doubt meeting her gaze filled him with many unpleasant memories. And him her, of a sword cutting off her limbs.
"Madam Turio would... tell me I was impulsive and foolish, for going into the tunnels. If I was her subordinate, she'd... probably punish me for risking a war with the Uratha."
If only the boy knew how badly he would have been punished. Perhaps he could ask Natasha later, if Antoinette did not kill the girl herself.
"A poor start, to your new role with the Lancea et Sanctum."
He winced again and looked down. Perhaps that would bring him in line.
She threw her glare at Beatrice. Jacob would not punish her; he was the sort to let life lessons do the teaching, even if it meant killing the taught. A short-sighted approach. Antoinette had no qualms with punishing the Nosferatu herself, and Beatrice knew it.
Slowly, Antoinette turned her gaze to Fiona as well, and glared down at the small Scot. Not as small as the little Mekhet in her grip, but small nonetheless, and she squirmed and lowered her gaze as Antoinette glowered at her.
"And you, Begotten, your kind are on thin ice as is. You have killed many in your time here, and lo and behold, some monstrosity took advantage of your carelessness. What will you do if hunters appear at your door, with fire and acid and weapons of this age more than capable of dealing with whatever defense you and your lair may provide?"
"I... um, Azamel is teaching me to feed better. It will nae be a problem anymore!"
"See that it is not. Far too much attention has been brought to my city, and the Masquerade is in danger. Do any of you infantile delinquents realize the danger of discovery? What would happen if our kind's existence were brought to light? Across the globe, the kine outnumber us a hundred thousand to one. You think my purge upon that villain Lucas was an act of brutality and violence, Damien? You have no idea what will happen if the Masquerade is broken." She squeezed harder, enough to make the two Kindred in her grasp whimper. Whimper turned to gasp as she lifted Natasha and Jack, by their mouths. Only the strength of their Kindred bodies kept their jaws from ripping clear of their skulls until they grabbed her wrists to keep that from happening. "So we will do all we can to preserve the Masquerade. You could have ignited aggression from the Uratha, and if pushed into their death rages, those wolves would not hesitate to take this battle to the streets and risk everything I have worked for. Instead of stirring a hornet's nest and begging for chaos, you juvenile miscreants will only do as your covenant leaders say from now on. Do I make myself clear?"
The four Kindred nodded, even the two with their jaws firmly in her grip and hands holding onto her wrists for dear life.
"And you Fiona, you will learn to hide your ravenous appetite under the tutelage of Azamel and Athalia, or I will paint the walls with your blood as a warning to other monsters to control your hunger. Understood?"
"Understood!"
"Now get out of my sight." She threw the boy and girl away from her, and they fell back onto their asses as she glared her red stare upon them.
Fiona scampered out, Triss and Damien following behind her with attempts to walk calmly ruined by the hop in their step. Jack and Natasha picked themselves up and ran after them, stumbling on the way. As everyone disappeared through the doors, Jack paused at the entrance and looked over his shoulder to her.
She offered him rage, frustration, disappointment, and scorching fire with her gaze. He winced, head drooping, eyes falling, and closed the door behind him.
For a brief moment, a single flash of instantaneous regret, she wanted to chase after him, apologize, and hold his head to her bosom. It faded, and instead, she paced left and right in front of her desk before at last walking over to the window and netting her fingers together behind her back. She watched down from her tower, watched the odd group of mismatched friends leave, and took a useless breath as she organized her thoughts.
Why was she so livid? She could feel the heat through her dried Kindred veins, coursing vitae through her limbs until the beast inside her roared its power, its rage and need for violence. She suppressed with practiced restraint, but that did not change that the beast within, usually steel and ice before the frustrations of her position, was boiling in a frenzy. It was her acting juvenile, or at least without wisdom, yelling at these children like a parent who does not understand how to temper their emotions, or use experience to guide outcomes.
But every time she imagined Jack dying to monsters in her tunnels, the fire returned all the more. Old memories, just faded and blurry things, danced in her mind, of others she cared for dying at the hands of others, bloody and ruined. Each memory, old and beyond her ability to draw into exact detail, taunted her, mocked her, and laughed at her misery.
