Amaranthine

“Svetlana.” Nicknames were for people who she wanted to forge a false bond of closeness with, or who she wanted to get a rise out of. As much as she wanted to pick a fight with this woman and throw her out of the hotel, there were laws she had to abide by. Not human ones, of course, that was just something she stuck to for the sake of keeping the hotel running without intrusion. Svetlana was a fellow member of Ducayne, a name she’d heard somewhere in the various meetings she’d had with other heads back when her position was a little more legitimate.

“Most things concerning my father are a misunderstanding, I’m afraid. He’s a very ill-informed man.” Along with being a backstabbing, power-hungry, no-loyalty piece of shit with no regard for the wellbeing of his own blood children, much less the vampires stupid and unfortunate enough to associate themselves with him and his leadership. "What was it that he told you about my leadership?" 

"Hard to tell with the man."

As soon as the woman circled to the back of Chiara’s chair, to her side of the desk, she tapped the little security button under the table. It didn’t matter if she was some clueless random off the street the shambling fucking revived body of Queen Victoria, nobody just came into the Mercury and just stepped into her space. 

“You seem to know so much about me already.” Her father’s name made her freeze, before forcing all of the tension to drain out of her spine, uncoiling it bit by bit as she leaned forwards, elbows on her desk, looking up at the woman standing next to her, and smiled sweetly. “That’s not very fair, is it? Who are you?” 

Fantastic. Yet another person her father put himself in debt to, all to try to get a rise out of her. That was always messy.

"I would say I know barely enough." She shrugged, her back turned to Chiara as she moved closer to the window, letting her sight fall down on the lobby. "I am... simply an acquaintance of your father, from the clan, of course." Calling it even that seemed like a lot. He was everything Lana despised, his desperate need for an heir was something that reminded her too much of her own father for Lana to ever consider him anything more than dirt. "Lana... or Svetlana, I guess."

Since packing up their goods and tools, Kore had considered simply going back to The Crucible to get more work done. While the sales and advertising were nothing to complain about, an event like this set them back in time more than anything. The entire day had been spent thinking about the backlog of tasks that they had, not just in projects, but in the other administrative work that it took to run a business. A smart person would have been gone by the time the last of the market-goers were dissipating.

Yet here they were, a drink in one has as they surveyed the crowd that had gathered around the bonfire. A few of the faces were familiar, people who had wandered into their shop or had commissioned them for work, but most were strangers to Kore. Their gaze swept from one person to the next, finding little to capture their interest until they settled on a woman who was positioned similarly to them. Arms crossed, a fair distance back from the flames, and seemingly without company.

Perfect.

They strode across the beach confidently and came to a stop before her. "Are you in town for the festival or have I been missing out by burying myself in work?"

She turned to look at them, an amused smile growing on her lips at their words. Her eyes falling on their figure for the first time in years. They have changed, matured. And Lana found them just as charming, just as enticing. Maybe even more, with the confidence dripping from their words.