Wind, Rain and Fireworks

Ksenia scowled to herself as she finally stepped inside the Villa, her summer cloak drenched in rain. It seemed that the weather has decided to turn sour all of a sudden. Though she supposed that it made sense. Almost two months of summer where already gone and there hasn't been a single raindrop before this day.

"Mistress," a house elf appeared in front of her and bowed. The Slushatel nodded her head slightly to the creature, passing on her wet cloak. This was a property owned by the Volans family and part of her was glad that she did not have to live here. Staying at the Mafia Mansion was much more preferable to the young witch.

Ksenia walked further on, out of the foyer and along the main corridor to the lounge. "You wanted to see me, Dameon?" she said as she came to stand in the doorway, her gaze sweeping over the room.

Ah, this was home, or it was going to be for a while. When he had received a discreet letter from his elders advising him to stay at one of his parents' old properties close to St. Petersburg - his beloved city - he immediately jumped onto that opportunity to finally explore what his parents' manor was like. It didn't have to be the one in which they resided. Having a memory of them in one of their houses was good enough.

He had spent most of his summer in solitude, but contrary to what people think of the Volans heir being like all other heirs, the mere thought of that fact sat well with him. He preferred being in solitary confinement as opposed to hosting a series of pureblood parties every week. He had also spent some time redecorating the house to make it his own. After all, his future bride had to reside in a palace fit for a Volans Queen.

As he was in the lounge, he swiftly turned around to face his beloved twin sister. He placed his quill down on the parchment he had been writing on, and stepped towards her with poise. "We have some very important business to speak of," he calmly articulated, pointing towards one of the satin chairs behind him, "please. Sit."

Ksenia's expression was as poised and cool as her brother's as she walked forward silently. "I see you settled yourself well in here," she commented as she sat down on the couch he pointed at. She crossed her legs as she looked up at him, waiting for him to speak. Her gaze was cool, her back straight as she looked around the room for a few moments. "What exactly do we need to talk about?" she asked as her gaze focused back on him.

"Of course I did, sister," Dameon proudly acclaimed, letting his fingers brush the top of his wooden desk. He then stepped towards his satin chair, his steps were precise, poised. "After all, if I were to invite a young, eligible lady in here, I do want to make a good impression towards her, now do I?" A house elf abruptly appeared, carrying a tray laden with cookies and a kettle of piping tea. "Thank you, Guevara," the Hrabrost greeted coolly, pointing to an ornate table between him and his sister.

Clearing his throat, Dameon poured a cup of tea for himself. "We must speak of a very pressing matter, Kyra," he elaborated, letting the tea cool, "I have considered a list of candidates suitable for marriage." He then picked up a kettle, "A cup of tea for you?"

"You would," she agreed with him with a brief nod of her head.

"For my marriage I presume?" Ksenia asked. She doubted that he would invite her here to discuss his marriage with her. "And what candidates have you looked at?" she continued not waiting for an answer. There was no need to. She was curious to find out what her brother had managed to achieve in such as short time and marriage was something she had been worried more and more about recently. "Yes, please."

With the brief nod she gave him, the Hrabrost had presumed that his sister had fully understood what he meant. "Good," he uttered, "even though that this house is of my disposition, I think it vital that if we do find a suitor for you, he will be introduced to this fortress so he will receive a reputable impression of your living conditions." He poured the tea into a cup for his sister, "Sugar? Cream? I find those unnecessary additions perishable by law, though if you choose to have them there is nothing I can do to stop it."

Clearing his throat, Dameon swiftly clenched a parchment atop the desk which was a list of men he had once thought suitable for his sister's hand in marriage. "I thought that Raymond Lamoureux was suitable, considering his family's long-term status in society," he pressed, "then I found out he was nearly ten years your junior, so he is out of the list." He scanned the list. "Prentiss? No. Penderghast? No. Telsa? No..." The boy frowned, "Do you have anyone of interest, sister?"

"If you think it is necessary to show him my living conditions," Kseni said with a slight frown, though it disappeared in a few moments. It was not a matter that held a lot of importance. She waves away his suggestions. "I agree with you brother. It is just a drink. Why overwhelm it with so many other flavours," she said as she took the cup elegantly into her hands.

The Slushatel leaned back in her chair contemplating his question. "There is Valec, but he seemed to have disappeared from the face of the Earth. Then I think there is a recently graduated Hansoff, though I have never seen him. But if the rumours are to be believed he has not followed precisely in his father's footsteps," she sated as she tapped a finger against her knee, thinking.

Meon frowned. "I know it sounds a little impractical, Kyra, but they say first impression count, do they not?" he queried, before noticing her deft fingers during the time she picked up her cup of tea. At least he can finally say that she was raised right, despite her deficiencies. Another tick of approval on his list of gentlewomanly qualities, she had earned.

"Ah," breathed the man, "Valec. Such a pity, huh? He was such a good match for you." He took a dainty sip of his cup of tea. "A Hansoff?" the Hrabrost queried, his eyes glimmering before she mentioned about what was wrong with him. "What do you mean, sister?"

"They do count, but first impressions are usually wrong," Ksenia said calmly. "Just take my name for an example. They would'nt be marrying Kyra, they would be marrying Ksenia and that's how it's going to stay." There was some sense in what he was saying, she had to agree. The Slushatel was well aware of the fact that there would be some gains that her brother would be getting out of her marriage.

The girl hummed slightly. "He would have been if he managed to stay faithful to one person for more then an hour. I am not entirely sure if he is able to do that. "Well, I have not met personally, but there have been rumours going around that he is not entirely heterosexual. And who would want to marry a man with that kind of reputation," she continued before taking a sip of her tea.

"I suppose that if you wish for yourself to be known as Ksenia to your future husband - no matter on who it may be - have no choice in changing that," Dameon replied, though he didn't like the thought. The whole point of Kyra marrying a good match was to bring the Volans family back to power, and if her real bloodline was not exposed, how was it supposed to be? "Do you not find it more comfortable, if he knows of your past, however?"

At the mention of Valec being a manwhore, the Hrabrost couldn't help but release a half-hearted chuckle. "I do have to agree with you; the second and final meeting of ours - I saw the way he kept looking at other girls, though it's clear you two had something special," the boy spoke, agreeing with his sister. His eyes then minutely widened. "If I were not a Volans, and were I not one to uphold his family reputation, I would have spit all of the tea in my mouth all over the damned table," Meon mused. "I believe Aleksey doesn't know of this?"

"Of course he would know of my past," Ksenia laughed at that. "I cannot hide my past from my future husband, I do not want to do that. He should know what I have been through, what I have done. But that does not mean that I will be known as Kyra to everyone else. Kyra is....a young girl who died with her parents," she said simply. It was a fact that she had known for a long time. She was completely different from the person she was supposed to be.

At her brother's words Ksenia couldn't help but snort slightly. "He had something special with a lot of girls no doubt." A small smirk settled itself on her lips. "Ah yes, the dangers of rumours. No, I do not believe he does," the girl stated before taking another sip of her tea.

"I'm glad you've thought of the notion about telling your husband of your past. I want an arranged marriage, but it is going to be no good if the married couple do not know everything of one another," Dameon solemnly agreed, or at least that's what his tone told her. He took another swig of his tea, before setting the cup down and pouring more tea in it. "I don't intend to taint your reputation more than it needs to be tainted, and if you think Kyra Volans died with her parents at that mansion then she has."

The boy's fingers reached upwards to smooth his hair. "I wouldn't believe so; rumours of a disowned Hansoff would have spread to these parts," acquiesced the Hrabrost brunette, "though so far, the Hansoff children sound like a mess." He then paused, his mind traveling elsewhere. "Ah yes... do you know anything about the Lamoureux family? Particularly their younger daughter... Danielle?"

"There is no reason to hide anything," Ksenia smirked slightly at that. "I doubt my husband would be very picky about my past," another laugh bubbled over her lips. The girl was not sure why she was laughing so much at that point, but simply being there with her brother discussing such important matters in the way that they were discussed was very amusing to the Slushatel. "That's what the world thinks anyway. The Coeus bloodline has remained hidden for centuries and that is how it's going to stay."

"Rumours wouldn't be enough to get him disowned. They wouldn't do him any long term harm. It's just at this point it is best not to associative with him if it can be helped," she shrugged her shoulders slightly as she took another sip of her tea. "The Lamouereuxes?" she raised her eyebrow slightly at her brother. "They are a prominent French pureblood family. I have not heard anything in particular about them," she shrugged her shoulders once again. "Are you cconsidering that girl as your own betrothed?" she asked, curious.

"You never know," Dameon remarked, "some husbands dislike women with a bad history, I am warning you. I'm not included in such an equation, though. I have to warn you." He watched his sister laugh, and as good of a sight that was he could not help but feel a little disturbed. Who would laugh over such a serious matter? And he had thought that she had been raised better than that. In a desperate attempt to calm her down, he cleared his throat before ingesting a sip of tea. "Sister... may I ask: Are you, as a younger Slushatel told me, 'on crack?'"

Meon shrugged nonchalantly, "Perhaps. I have heard of Alexandra being married... but Dani, though betrothed, seems like a likely candidate as a spouse. I wish I could see her with my own eyes to see if she's as pretty as her sister is."