Chapter 3: One of Those

Previously: The Eighth Prince

 

Viktoriyah shared a room with Lady Salonia, the Countess Carvain of Bruma, but for several months now, she'd been all by herself. The room was large, with two beds and wardrobes, meant to accommodate multiple royal attendants. When the Countess first left, Viktoriyah was ecstatic to finally have a place all to herself. But these days, the emptiness was less pleasing.

 

When she returned to her room after meeting with Elisif, she was surprised to see her roommate had returned. The Imperial woman was a little thinner than she remembered, considering the last time she was at court, Salonia had been heavy with child.

 

"Salonia," Viktoriyah greeted, genuinely pleased to see her. "You look well!"

 

She sat down opposite the Countess. Salonia was enjoying some bread, grapes, and as always, wine.

 

"I see your clothes got even darker," the Countess mused. "Wine?" she offered.

 

Viktoriyah shook her head. Mortal fare tasted like ash on vampire tongues. "And where is the little babe?"

 

"Whiterun," sighed the Countess. "His father was happy to claim him; my husband, not so much."

 

Viktoriyah couldn't stop herself from chuckling. Motherhood hadn't changed Salonia in the slightest; she was still as irreverent as ever.

 

"Well, you must be relieved to be back at court," Viktoriyah said. "The Temple of the Divines didn't seem like the most comfortable place for an extended stay, especially while pregnant."

 

"Actually, the priestesses tended me night and day," Salonia told her. "They made sure I drank plenty of water and walked at least two hours a day." She refilled her wine glass. "Gods, I've missed wine."

 

Viktoriyah raised an eyebrow. "As I recall, it was wine that got you into trouble in the first place."

 

"The wine never made me do anything I didn't want to," the Countess said with a snort. "Enough about me; what about you? When are you going home? War's over and you've got a man waiting for you."

 

Viktoriyah laughed softly, remembering that she had told Salonia about Vingalmo. "My family hasn't summoned me yet." She shrugged. "I wish they would, though. I hear a certain woman from his past has returned, and I'm worried."

 

Salonia leaned in, interested. "Oh, no," she muttered, plucking a grape and popping it into her mouth. "Were they lovers?"

 

"No." Viktoriyah slowly shook her head. "He wanted to be her lover, of course. Everybody did. She's one of those."

 

Salonia rolled her eyes. "I hate those." She paused, looking over Viktoriyah. "How come you're not one of those? You're certainly pretty enough."

 

Viktoriyah looked down, her jaw tightening slightly. "Guess I was just never charming enough." 

 

"You know what will happen if you leave them alone too long," Salonia warned.

 

"She was never interested in him," Viktoriyah said. "And last time, someone very important snatched her up."

 

"And what about this time?"

 

Viktoriyah paused, suddenly realizing there was nothing standing between Vingalmo and Katarinya this time. Harkon had moved on and she was stuck at Volkihar, likely afraid to leave without an Undead Ring.

 

"Fuck the gods," the vampire rasped without thinking.

 

Salonia raised her glass. "Exactly." She drank for a time in silence before suddenly announcing, "I'm leaving Skyrim, you know."

 

Viktoriyah's eyes widened. "You are? Why?"

 

"My husband is willing to forgive my indiscretion with Lord Nazeem if I leave by the end of the week. I really did embarrass him this time." She sounded rueful.

 

"So you're returning home?"

 

"I am," Salonia nodded wearily. "Take it as a sign from the gods that you should return as well."

 

***

 

The last time Katarinya was at Volkihar, she wanted nothing more than to be left alone. She didn't want gifts. She didn't want compliments. She wanted everyone to stop talking to her, to give her space.

 

This time, that's exactly what she got. No one was talking to her. No one asked about her journeys or what news there was from the mainland. They just kept drinking and laughing all around her, but not with her.

 

They had moved on. All of Volkihar, it seemed, had moved on, and it bothered her more than she cared to admit. After all, until she received another Undead Ring, how was she to survive this silent exile?

 

Katarinya was used to being the life of the party, but on her terms. That was her first requirement upon fleeing Volkihar: to never again be "on demand" for someone else. That said, she didn't know how to act when there was no demand for her. Her newfound pariah status was entirely unprecedented.

 

A familiar voice pulled her from her thoughts. "The moons rise, and Lady Katarinya sits alone."
 

Katarinya turned slightly to see Lord Vingalmo taking a seat next to her. She smiled; the tall elf was even more handsome than she remembered. His white hair was longer; it was brushed, perfumed, and pinned away from his face. After all this time, he still favored simple black vampire armor.

 

"My lord Vingalmo," she greeted warmly. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

 

"I can assure you, my lady, the pleasure's all mine." He took her hand and kissed it. He looked over her face, marveling at its dark beauty. "I never thought I'd see you again."

 

"You would have if you simply left Volkihar," she gently chided him.

 

"And what is there outside of Volkihar?" he asked.

 

"Life," she replied.

 

Vingalmo shrugged. "But we are dead."

 

Katarinya snorted softly, reclaiming her goblet of blood. "Ever the philosopher."

 

He raised an eyebrow. "You left centuries ago. Traveled the mainland a thousand times over, and where did that lead you? Back to Volkihar."

 

"I was brought back," she said bitterly. "Attacked in the night and dragged here with no thought to what I wanted."

 

"You were bound to return here sooner or later," he insisted. "Harkon merely sped up the timetable."

 

"Are you an oracle now?" Katarinya scoffed. "Can you read signs and tell me of fortunes?"

 

"Katarinya, I am older than you," he reminded her. "By thousands of years. What do you think I did before I settled at Volkihar? The same as you. I wandered. I changed names so many times I almost forgot my own. I watched kingdoms rise and empires fall. I bedded queens and drank with kings. I was a monk, a poet, a sculptor, a mage. But in the end, I was a lord at Volkihar."

 

Katarinya stared at him, jaw clenched as she felt the bile rising. "How come you never told me all this when you were my teacher?"

 

Vingalmo smiled. "Would you have listened?"

 

"I might have." She shrugged. "I listened to everything else. Why do you think I sound like you? Or have you forgotten... I had a common accent when I arrived. And I hated reading." She paused, falling into memory. "Harkon liked my face and fashions," she murmured, "but he wanted me posh as well."

 

"Do you envy his new mistress?" the elf asked, eyes fixed on her face, noting every flicker of emotion.

 

"Sybille?" Katarinya cackled. "I once met Sybille at the Blue Palace. It was during the reign of Istlod, Elisif's father-in-law. Sybille was already a vampire, but you wouldn't have known it, judging by how desperately she clung to those mortals. I'm not surprised she ended up in Harkon's bed; becoming a royal mistress seems to be a lifelong ambition that clung to her even in death. I swear, Vingalmo; the more things change, the more they stay the same." 

 

The tall vampire grinned. "I rest my case."