Chapter 6: Sting

Previously: While You Were Away

Viktoriyah wasn't supposed to use her portal to Volkihar on a whim. Luckily for her, she not only had a valid reason, but one that would allow her to actually spend a little time there.

 

So when she arrived at the castle, she made sure to cross paths with Lord Harkon first. After all, it was always better to seek permission than beg forgiveness.

"Viktoriyah," the ancient vampire said, visibly surprised to see her casually passing him in the throne room. "You weren't due back so soon. Aren't you supposed to be supervising the royal wedding?"

"The wedding is why I'm here, Sire," she assured him calmly. "Elisif still shows resistance to the match. I need to consult with Sybille Stentor on how to make her more... compliant."

 

Harkon's head rose and fell. "I see. You require a... potion of some sort?"

 

"I have some theories on what might work in the long-term," she replied, nodding. "But alchemy is not my specialty, Sire. I need an expert."

 

"Of course," he told her.

 

She curtsied and continued on her way, seeking out the one person she actually came to see.

 

He was alone, thankfully, playing chess against himself. If she could breathe or had a heartbeat, both heart and breath would have stopped at the sight of him. He was regality personified, his white hair shining in the candlelight.

 

Viktoriyah smoothly took a seat across from him, casually greeting, "My Lord Vingalmo."

 

"Viktoriyah," he said, blinking in surprise. "Are you supposed to be here?"

 

"I have consultation with Sybille later," she replied, shrugging. "I couldn't pop in without saying hello, could I?"

 

"Of course not," Vingalmo said softly, absently turning back to the game. "How goes life at the Blue Palace? Is Skyrim ecstatic at the impending royal nuptials?"

 

"It's a headache," she grumbled. "Save Falk Firebeard, myself, and the Emperor's family, it's like no one favors this marriage at all."

 

"And you think Sybille can concoct something to ensure the wedding night goes smoothly," the elf smirked, eyes still on the chessboard.

 

"I have my hopes," she said, nodding, eyes still on him. "Where is the famed Katarinya? I thought you'd be glued to her side right now."

 

"No doubt drinking alone in the great hall," he murmured. "She's not very popular at court?"

 

Viktoriyah remained unconvinced. "Oh?"
 

"She's only here because she's too afraid to leave."

 

Viktoriyah snorted, her face smug. "Sounds like that ring has made her weak."

 

"She needs it for the lifestyle she chooses, Viktoriyah," he reminded her. "She can't very well navigate the aristocracy looking like... well, her."

 

"And yet Sybille somehow did it for decades," she insisted, with a slight, defiant tilt of her head.

 

"Sybille Stentor is an oddball mage," Vingalmo replied, still focused on the game. "Her eccentricities were tolerated on those grounds alone."

 

"Do you still favor her?" Viktoriyah pointedly asked.

 

The elf finally looked up, baffled. "What?"

 

"You always called her 'the one that got away'," she reminded him. "You bemoaned the lost opportunities before drowning yourself in blood and Summerset wine. Now that she's returned, what are your intentions toward each other?"

 

Vingalmo was bemused, unsure of what he was hearing or how to respond. "I thought you loathed this kind of talk, Viktoriyah," he said, visibly bewildered.

 

She raised an eyebrow. "I don't often hear this kind of talk about you." 

 

"Fair enough," he conceded, nodding and turning back to the game. "All I can say is that was centuries ago. We're not the same people we once were."

 

"No," she said lowly, more so to herself than him. She slowly rose from the table. "No, I don't suppose any of us are."

 

*** 

 

The sight of Katarinya sitting alone at Volkihar should have been laughable. Viktoriyah felt she should be amused to see the darling of all vampiredom drinking by herself. It should have been validating, vindicating, reassuring, yet Viktoriyah felt none of those things.

Katarinya looked nothing short of ravishing in her red gown, with her long, rippling black hair. She drank daintily, with slow small sips while she sat mired in thought. Viktoriyah was almost tempted to leave her be and forget all about her.

 

Almost.

 

"My Lady Katarinya," she greeted, helping herself to a seat.

 

Katarinya was caught off guard, blinking repeatedly as though trying to place her. "Excuse me?"

 

"I'm Viktoriyah," she introduced herself coolly.

 

"Oh," Katarinya said softly, with a slow nod. "'My Dearest Vingalmo'."

 

Viktoriyah froze. "You read my letters?"

 

"The penmanship was exquisite," Katarinya admitted. "Did it take you long? When Vingalmo tutored me, it took me forever." She paused. "If you love him, you should just say that. He's never been good at picking up cues."

 

Viktoriyah felt as though she'd never be able to move again. "Do you love him?" she asked.

 

"No," Katarinya shook her head. "I don't know why, but he was never what I was looking for." 

 

That was a stupid question, Viktoriyah chastised herself. Of course she didn't love him. Katarinya was not known for her ability to love. The question was best posed to Vingalmo, and she'd been too cowardly to just ask him.

 

Katarinya looked her over. It was the moment Viktoriyah had been dreading for years. 

 

"You're quite a beauty," Katarinya confessed. "If you weren't Volkihar's sword, you would most certainly be its sweetheart. I see you also favor the Imperial style." 

 

Viktoriyah shrugged stiffly, attempting to appear nonchalant. "I only dressed like this for the mission. Normally, I wear armor."

 

"Of course," Katarinya said in that soft voice, with slow nod. "Assassins are like mages. You don't much favor the trivial things."

 

Viktoriyah was bristling now. It was a bizarre feeling; she had so many questions to ask, yet knew none of the answers would satisfy her. If Katarinya and Vingalmo wanted each other, there was nothing she could do to stop them. It wouldn't even be her business. They would be together long after Harkon sent her off on mission after mission.

 

It was the cold, hard truth she'd been avoiding. Now she couldn't avoid it anymore.

 

"The legends do not do your beauty justice, my Lady Katarinya," she said finally, noting the soft breathlessness of her own voice. "Your face alone eclipses all within this room."

 

She rose swiftly before Katarinya could respond, and bowed. As she turned to leave, she felt tears burn the back of her eyes.