Antoinette, seated at the head of her table in the grand Primogen meeting room, offered Garry and Michael thankful nods.
"I am glad you have set your differences aside."
"I wouldn't say that," the Carthian said. "But tempers have cooled a bit. We can keep the peace, for now."
"Agreed," Michael said. "Xnomina and Terra Den will handle the expenses for damages."
Men. Instead of solving their differences with words, they solved them with fists, punching each other as if each collision contained meaning, as if each jab was a point or counterpoint in a debate. It was a method of arguing that humans -- and evidently vampires -- had been using for thousands of years before the invention of language, men in particular. And perhaps there was something to it, something to the raw exchange of brute force that spoke to a part of the mind she simply did not have, or had long repressed.
If that was what it took to get these two men to speak with each other again, with perhaps a rather harsh scolding from a young Ventrue, then she doubted she could have had the success Jack's plan had managed. She could have done something no doubt, tricked them in much the same way she had Viktor Honors and her old lover Tony. But to come to this result? Only someone young, and likely male, could have thought this plan would have worked, and be correct.
"And the dead Kindred?" Jacob asked. Once again, her old friend was dressed in his old, dark robes. To him, the Primogen meeting should have resembled the meetings of the ancient days, of vampires hiding in caves and casting dark magics around a cauldron, boiling, with human bones within.
Jacob and Antoinette both knew he looked handsome, dashing, and oddly appealing in a suit, when he chose to wear one. It was part of what made it so infuriating, as if Jacob enjoyed taunting her with the lack of a suit, more than he enjoyed wearing the robe. Though she knew he wore suits occasionally, when taking Samantha out to visit the more extravagant and expensive locations in Dolareido; it had many.
Of course, after such events, he took her back to his cave, where he and his witches indulged in an utter buffet of sexual delights. Suits had no place in an environment where sex was had upon fur pelts, and against sloped walls of stone.
"Three vamps dead," Garry said, "each. Yeah, it sucks. But shit came out even. We're not gonna throw fists over it."
"Agreed," Michael said once again. "Xnomina and Terra Den will negotiate some property contracts as well. Hopefully we can avoid issues with goods distribution, while maintaining some territory balance. The Mirrden District will be shared."
Maria lifted a single finger from the table. "The Masquerade remains intact. All in all, for these two Gangrels to stop squabbling, with such minimal damage to Kindred, the city, and the Masquerade, is quite a feat."
Antoinette offered the corpse woman a small nod. Even in Dolareido, where Antoinette did her best to foster a spirit of cooperation in its Kindred, elders included, they could still be quite callous with the lives of those within. Antoinette agreed with Maria, that six deaths was ultimately a small loss. Jack would not agree.
"Finally," Jacob said. "I was worried about stepping outside my house, and getting shot up in a drive by."
After that, the meeting went on as per usual. Maria spoke of the Lancea et Sanctum and her progress in reviving it. A dozen Kindred now came to the cathedral, and listened to her and Damien speak of Longinus and the supposed decree passed down to all vampires. Utter stupidity, but Antoinette let her speak. After, Garry and Michael spoke of the finer details of territory proposals, and how the Carthians and Invictus could handle the borders better, such as at the Border Bar.
Garry and Michael knew of Jacob's potential allegiance to Black Blood, but they did not so much as look the man's way; no more than usual. All the Primogen were talented actors, a necessary skill that came to any vampire that wished to live for centuries. Antoinette however found herself looking at her old friend, and doing her best to read his expression. He had an advantage, with a bandage wrapped around his head to hide his empty eye sockets, but regardless, she tried. Nothing. The only expression she found was his usual pleasant, teasing grins, a few aimed at her, no doubt meant to tease her over how he had somehow started dating her childe, and her lover's mother.
Quite the intricate web. Quite the soap opera.
Everything was back to normal then. The Primogen conspired against each other, as they always did. Garry and Michael would no doubt pounce any opportunity they found to destroy the other, or at least castrate their position in Dolareido, but for the moment they put their claws away. Maria continued to slowly revive the infernal church. Jacob teased the three covenants over their silly goals, but otherwise did nothing to reveal his own goals. Antoinette did the same. The Circle of the Crone and the Ordo Dracul did not have goals relevant to Dolareido's politics.
Forever Antoinette played arbiter, acknowledging whose arguments made sense, and who would receive her permission to carry on. The city had changed much, since the death of Viktor and Tony, and again now that Lucas was dead and Maria was given permission to revive the Lancea et Sanctum. While each meeting tested her patience, she had to admit, it was a pleasant meeting, compared to the past. Progress, in a strange, hampered way, but progress nonetheless.
Through it all, not a single hint of Black Blood was mentioned. No talk of tears. No talk of dark rituals being cast in her city. Above all, no notion that anything was out of place, except for what could be observed naturally, that the werewolves continued to hunt for strange things.
She had already spoken with Garry Tones and Michael McDonald in private. They both agreed to keep an eye open, but they also both agreed that preventing dark rituals being cast across realms was not within their skill set. To their credit, they would try, and both realized how careful they had to be. All in all, a great step forward.
She had a moment to relax, for the first time in a long time.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Tonight, she was going to have her little Ventrue, and every man and woman nearby, Kindred or otherwise, squirming.
"You seem oddly excited," Elaine said. She joined the Prince in the changing room, and while the room was filled with dresses for Antoinette, Elaine now had many. There was no shortage of ways for a rich woman to acquire new dresses in Dolareido, and she brought them to Antoinette's tower, by the dozens.
"I am. Despite the troubles that remain, things have been quite peaceful in my city for two weeks. Not only that, all the Primogen are cooperating. As well as can be expected, at least."
"Your little Ventrue accomplished much."
"With the help of Azamel."
Elaine nodded as she slipped out of her suit, and admired her naked body in front of one of the many mirrors. Hangers decorated metal bars, each with a dress, all lined against the walls of black marble with white veins. The lighting above offered powerful contrast, allowing for even the most untalented eye to notice what dresses created what lines and curves.
"The old monster was nothing more than an annoyance the last time she visited your city, yes?"
"Oui, very much so. But she spent her last moments helping my love, and my city." Antoinette came up behind Elaine, admired the tall, thin and curvy blonde in the mirror, before she looked to the dresses at the side. What dress should her friend wear tonight?
"I suppose even an old fossil can change."
"You think she changed?" Antoinette plucked a black dress from the rack, and stepped behind Elaine. Her friend took it, stepped into it, and pulled it up over her body, eyes in the mirror watching how the soft, thin, black fabric hugged her curves.
"I do, for her family. Athalia became the daughter she never had, if I had to guess."
"And Mark?"
"The son, someone she relied on."
"And Fiona?"
"Her granddaughter."
"And SΓ‘ndor?"
Elaine grinned in the mirror as she tied the back straps of the stress. "The son-in-law she found herself forced to pass her legacy to."
The roles were not perfect analogies, and yet the comparison was accurate for how Azamel likely treated the other Begotten. Poor SΓ‘ndor.
"Fiona will be joining us tonight. Perhaps she will speak of Azamel." Antoinette looked over Elaine's head, admiring her friend's reflection, but they both shook their head after a few moments. Elaine stepped out of the dress, and Antoinette hunted for a new one.
"Quite a treat, little Fiona. Her enthusiasm, her joviality, her body."
"Damien is a lucky man." Antoinette found another dress, and they repeated the process. "I hope he has been a solid foundation for Fiona to stand on, as she weathers the storm of Azamel's death."
"And Daniel to Athalia."
Ah, a quick sneer in the mirror from her old friend. Antoinette laughed, and set both hands upon Elaine's shoulders as Elaine tied the straps of the black dress behind her neck.
"Keep trying, old friend. Perhaps you will sneak your way into their bed?"
"I somehow doubt Athalia will be willing."
"Then you must seduce Athalia."
"Ha, easier said than done. She does not like me. And I am no Daeva."
"Are you not?" Antoinette chuckled as she pressed her chest against Elaine's back, set her chin on the woman's shoulder, and hugged her around her stomach. Elaine was tall, but Antoinette was taller, and she smiled at her friend in the mirror as she slid her hands up Elaine's exposed stomach. The dress was barely more than a flimsy strip of fabric across her breasts, that left her back and stomach exposed, with straps that cut down across her sides to connect to a minuscule skirt.
"I am beautiful, and direct. But to seduce someone like Athalia, now that she has Daniel, I believe I would need subtlety. Have you ever known me to be subtle?"
"Not in the least. But with time, I am sure Athalia will grow more comfortable with her relationship, and more comfortable with Dolareido's ways. I am confident you could seduce her, with enough time, and alcohol."