Summary:

Erik, the sadistic and dark Prince of Persia, has vowed never to give his heart to another woman. However, this changes when he meets the abused Viscountess de Chagny, a woman who stirs and brings his deepest desires to the surface in full force. Can he rescue her from her husband, a man as evil and sadistic as he?

When it comes to her heart, all's fair in love and slaughter.

Main Characters:

The Dragonet Clan

Erik Dragonet - the Crown Prince of Persia. He is the oldest of five children, and is infamous for his taste for war and blood. Is 25 years old by the start of the third chapter. Portrayed by Gerard Butler.

Ivan Dragonet - second-in-line to the throne. He is Erik's second-in-command, and is described as a brooding figure with an intense gaze. He is married to Katalina, a Persian prostitute who he fell in love with. Portrayed by Joaquin Phoenix.

Armand Dragonet - the oldest of twins. Has a huge appetite for sex and whores. Portrayed by Ben Barnes.

Viktor Dragonet - the younger twin brother of Armand. Shares his twin's nearly unsatiable desire for sex and whores. Portrayed by Ben Whishaw.

Tatyana Dragonet - the youngest and only girl of the Dragonet siblings. Was married to the King of Transylvania, but was brutally raped and murdered by Transylvanian rebels. Shared a close bond with her oldest brother, Erik. Portrayed by Tamzin Merchant.

The de Chagny Clan

Christine de Chagny, Viscountess of Normandy - the abused trophy wife of the viscount. She is constantly humiliated by her brothers- and sister-in-law for being unable to provide her husband with an heir. Portrayed by Emmy Rossum.

Raoul de Chagny, Viscount of Normandy - Christine's abusive husband. Goes off to fight the British, leaving his wife at the mercy of his brothers and sisters. Portrayed by Patrick Wilson.

Benedict de Chagny, Genevieve de Chagny-Antoine, Pomeroy de Chagny, Guillaume de Chagny, and Troilus de Chagny - Raoul's younger siblings. All of them despise Christine and never pass up a chance to humiliate their unfortunate sister-in-law. Portrayed by Domnhall Gleeson, Melanie Laurent, Gaspard Ulliel, and Kenneth Asa Butterfield, respectively.

Minor Characters:

Aryasb Dragonet - former King of Persia and the father of Erik, Ivan, Armand, Viktor, and Tatyana. Married the older sister of the Tzar of Russia. Portrayed by Arnold Vosloo.

Czarina Dragonet - former Queen of Persia and the mother of Erik, Ivan, Armand, Viktor, and Tatyana. She is the wife of Aryasb Dragonet; her husband allowed her to give their children Russian names in honour of her heritage. Portrayed by Inna Korobkina.

Madame Giry - the Dragonets' housekeeper during their stay in Paris. Portrayed by Miranda Richardson.

Meg Giry - Madame Giry's daughter. Develops a crush on Erik. Portrayed by Jennifer Ellison.

Carlotta Guidecelli - Genevieve's best friend and the most talented opera singer in Paris. Portrayed by Minnie Driver.

Monsieurs Firmin and Andre - owners of the Opera Populaire. They try to gain the patronage of the Dragonet family. Portrayed by Ciaran Hinds and Simon Callow.

1 – Blood is the Life

Erik's Memoir

Today was spent in the battlefield. It was completely exhilarating; I cannot think of anything else that makes me feel complete and content. The very gush of my foe's lifeblood on my face brings a dark song to my lips, and I relish every body that falls before my feet. The war with the Arabs can be quite taxing, and yet I welcome it. This gives me a sense of purpose, of need, and I desire nothing more than to extend the war for many years to come. Of course my advisors are against those thoughts of mine, for they believe that the war will put a strain on the people. They remind me of Father at times. So do my brothers, for that matter. Tatyana thinks I am taking this skirmish far too seriously, as she always does. But she always lets me do what I will – I am the next King, and I can do as I wish.

Today the newest weapons have arrived from our contacts in France. These... guns, as they call them, are glorious. They bring a swift death to any they set their eyes on, and I believe I can use that to my utmost advantage. Thank Viktor for being the busybody that he is. Once I get used to wrapping my hands on any of these guns, I am sure it will become a part of me as my trusted scimitar is. Of course nothing can replace my beloved Punjab lasso, but that is reserved for special occasions.

I can hear Tatyana and Armand shouting at each other. Perhaps I may continue my memoirs later.

Erik

I closed the leather-bound book with a snap and strode out of my bedroom. The ruckus my brother and sister was making echoed all over the castle, and I was not surprised to see Ivan making his way to the open veranda.

"What is happening, brother?" I asked him as he fell into step beside me. "Has Armand stolen another of her trinkets to make her scream so?"

Ivan shrugged, the wind ruffling his black curls slightly. "I have no idea. Armand is getting too out-of-control lately. Tatyana, on the other hand... I had no idea she knew so many curse words."

I smiled. "Tatyana has learned from the best, that I can assure you."

"From you?"

"I did not say anything."

Ivan eyed me critically before walking to our brother and sister and pulling them apart. Tatyana's face was pink, while Armand seemed to be imitating a ripe tomato.

"What is the matter?"Ivan asked, his eyes slowly sliding from Tatyana to Armand, finally gazing at the latter. He was staring at them rather vindictively, and I half-expected them to cower and begin muttering gibberish.

Many a soldier – and other visiting emissaries, at that – had become reduced to blathering idiots upon receiving such a stare from Ivan. He was the brooding one, who tended to hold his tongue and let his older brother give the orders. When he was given free reign, however, he was unpredictable. I never had a finer second-in-command than Ivan, and I knew he would always have my back – on or off the battlefield.

Tatyana raised her chin and pointed at Armand dramatically. "I asked that... that thing to give me back my stallion!"

"And I did!" Armand retorted immediately, and Ivan placed a restraining hand on Armand. "Your stupid stallion is in the stables; check it if you don't believe me!"

"I did," Tatyana said, but we could all tell she was delivering a final blow. "But it was bone tired! I told you not to use Xerxes to visit your fucking whores!"

"Xerxes is just too old, Tatyana! All I did was to ride the fucking thing down to the fucking market and it became fucking tired too fucking easily!"

"You liar!"

"I never lie!"

"Enough!" I only raised my voice a little, but both Tatyana and Armand bent their heads down quickly like I had shouted at them. "Armand, I would be grateful if you would refrain from cursing at your sister. And-" – I raised my hand to silence Armand, for he seemed ready to shout a reply – "Tatyana, Xerxes is far too old. I need not remind you to replace the beast countless times."

Armand shot my sister a triumphant look. "I told you so."

Tatyana pouted. "Fine. You win this time, Armand," she conceded huffily.

"Of course, Armand will be all too happy to replace Xerxes," I concluded. Armand threw me a look of disbelief.

"Me? Why me?" he demanded. "It's her horse!"

"Which you rode to the brink of exhaustion. I do not care whether you rode it to visit the whores of Babylon or the nude women of Nebuchadnezzar. That does not erase the fact that you, in a sense, rode a stallion to its grave." I glanced at Armand and raised my eyebrow. "There will be no problems, I trust."

I allowed Armand to grumble for a few moments before he nodded. "Fine."

"Excellent. There are no more ill feelings between the two of you, then?" I never liked to see my brothers and sister mad at each other for long, so I was satisfied to see Tatyana and Armand shake hands. Armand quickly hurried off to the gardens below to join his twin brother, Viktor, while Ivan made his way back to his room.

Tatyana lingered on the veranda for a moment before joining me. "Erik, how long is this war going to last?"

From stallions to war, I thought with amusement. Her train of thought astounds me.

"As long as it takes, sister." I knew what was coming: she would do her best to dissuade me from going out into the centre of the fray, out of fear that her favourite brother would never come home. Oh she worried for Ivan of course, but she seemed to put my safety above his.

"Must you join your men in battle? You have been in every war our country has had since you were fourteen, Erik. Please, let your generals do your job for you. You are our king. Our saviour. And my brother." Tatyana's eyes were wide with fear; she knew that tomorrow and the next days may very well signal our victory or defeat.

I, of course, would not accept defeat. Tatyana knew this, and she worried that I would do something brash in the hopes of turning the tide in favour of the Persians. Her brilliantly blue eyes – a trait most of us inherited from our Russian mother, Czarina – looked up at mine, silently pleading.

"You know I cannot leave our army, Tatyana," I said as gently as I could. "And what of Ivan? He is your brother too, in case you've forgotten."

"No, I haven't," Tatyana replied, casting her eyes downward. "But Erik, can't you stay within the safety of our walls? Just this once?"

"I need the battlefield, Tatyana. You know I was born to be a warrior. To defend our country, our family, and you." I prayed that my sister would finally relent and let the subject matter drop. We had been through this countless times, and we always came to the same conclusion.

That didn't mean that Tatyana didn't stop trying, however.

Tatyana sighed and then nodded. "Promise me that you and Ivan will come back."

I drew my sister close and pressed a kiss on her head. "I promise."

Tatyana pulled away from me, and I noted that her favourite fragrance – essence of lavender – had stuck to my shirt. Although it was nice to be reminded of my younger and only sister, I could not go to war smelling like a young girl. I made a mental note to change my shirt before meeting the generals.

"Erik, will you paint with me?" Tatyana asked, sitting on one of the plush couches near the balcony. "I've been wanting to paint all day, but you were busy."

I thought of the painting I had set aside a few days ago to attend to important battle plans. I knew very well that Ivan could attend to the matter himself, but I didn't like the idea of being excluded for a strategy session.

"Tatyana, you know I would like nothing better than to paint with you," I began, hating myself for what I was about to say next.

The next interruption was a blessing: it served as the perfect excuse for me to leave Tatyana without hurting my feelings.

"My Lord! The enemy is advancing!" A soldier was hurrying down the hallway, his eyes wide with fear. I frowned, my hand immediately grasping the handle of my scimitar. Tatyana jumped to her feet, her hand clamping over my wrist tightly.

"Tatyana, no," I told her, and she withdrew her hand hesitantly.

Three more sets of footsteps approached, and my three brothers arrived. Ivan was in the process of strapping his quiver of arrows on his back, while Viktor walked over and pulled Tatyana to his side.

"How far are they?" I asked the soldier.

The sudden boom of cannons answered my question, and I knew they were far too close. Muttering a curse, I nodded to Ivan, who followed me as we hurried to the courtyard. I knew Viktor and Armand would take care of Tatyana, and from then on I focused all of my attention on the war.

Ivan and I stood side by side on the topmost platform, my shouts directing the archers and soldiers. Those on the leftmost side controlled the cannons, and they returned the fire from the enemy. Every so often an enemy cannonball would shoot in our direction, smashing against the brick walls and raining rubble on the soldiers.

The shouts of my men and the enemy rebels rose into a steady cacophony, and there were times when Ivan was forced to let fly a well-aimed arrow into the forehead of an approaching enemy.

I, on the other hand, joined the soldiers and rushed out onto the battlefield, my scimitar unsheathed. I cut down the rebels easily, and at times relished in the feel of their blood gushing from opened arteries and it splattering against my skin in thick red arcs.

This was heaven. This was where I was meant to be: in the thick of the battle, fighting to secure my home. To secure the safety of my people... my family... and Tatyana.

"The enemy has retreated, but they will return. Their move tonight showed us that they cared not whether they lived or died," Ivan stressed. His face showed no sign of fatigue, and yet I could tell he longed to climb into bed and sleep – preferably with a long-haired buxom woman.

I was sitting on the other side of the room, wiping my scimitar clean. We had declared a victory nearly ten minutes ago, and adrenaline was still pumping through our veins. The rest of the generals nodded as Ivan outlined our next battle plan, a battle plan that I had devised that very morning.

"Why don't we strike them down in their homes, my Prince?" one general asked.

"Because we will no longer be in our territory. They would know the terrain well, and that would work against us," I replied, sheathing my scimitar. Ivan nodded in agreement.

"Our walls are strong enough to withstand any force. Have the workers repair any damage before they return," Ivan instructed. "And rest well, men. You will need your strength."

"Dismissed," I said lazily, and the generals thumped their fists against their chest before leaving the room.

Once the door was closed, Ivan rounded on me. "How long?"

"Apparently you and Tatyana came from the same seed," I commented. "She asked me the same thing."

"How long?" Ivan stressed.

"Why, Ivan? Before you didn't care how long a war lasted. Why the sudden change?" I glanced at my brother for a split second, waiting to hear the answer I suspected I already knew.

"Katalina is with child," Ivan replied. "I have decided to marry her."

I raised an eyebrow. "I thought you planned on marrying someone of... higher birth."

Ivan's cheeks reddened. Although the Dragonets married whoever they wished, bloodline be damned, I knew Ivan had decided to marry someone of royal blood. This was a surprise.

"Katalina is different. Whenever I'm with her, I –"

"Make love to her, I know." I waved my hand dismissively. "Do whatever you want, Ivan, but make sure that it does not interrupt the war. Our victory against the rebels is crucial."

Ivan hesitated. "And the fact that I'm marrying a whore does not displease you?"

"Why would it? I care not who you marry, Ivan, as long as she makes you happy. And as long as she doesn't get in the way of the war," I said, rolling the maps and tying them with a ribbon.

"The war. That's all it's ever been about," Ivan stated softly. I raised my head to look at him, but he was already gone.

I shook my head and handed the maps to the guard standing outside. My brothers never understood my need for war. It flowed through my veins, and the very sound of a battle drum pounding in the distance could send me into a pleasurable fury.

Ivan, Viktor, and Armand only saw war as a way to keep the peace. I saw it as a way of life. Tatyana viewed it as a disgusting and barbaric activity.

They never saw it the way I did, and I never pressured them to do so. Aside from war, torture was my forte. I could worm out the deepest, darkest secrets of a person after an hour inside my torture chamber. There are hundreds of torture devices stocked there: an iron maiden, a stretching rack, sinister looking hooks, sharp scalpels, and a tank of ice cold water.

It was the only place Tatyana was not allowed in; Ivan and I had both agreed that she should not see the methods we used in order to extract information from a person. She was too good to be subjected to such things.

I was a few steps away from my room when I heard the soft rustling of a skirt. I turned just in time to see Tatyana envelope me in a crushing hug.

"Erik," was all she said. I buried my face in her hair, taking in the sweet scent of her.

"Tatyana, what are you doing up this late?" I asked gently, the persona of a bloodthirsty warrior slowly ebbing away as I stared down at her.

Tatyana said nothing, her eyes simply studying every inch of me. She held me close again, and inwardly I wondered if I still smelled of blood and cannon fire. If I did, she didn't mind in the slightest. We were interrupted by Viktor and Armand, who both had a scantily clad whore on their arm.

"Come on, brother," Armand called, pushing a third whore towards me. "The war is nearly over. Let this little minx warm your bed tonight."

The whore grinned at me, but I shot her an icy stare. Tatyana shifted slightly, as if she didn't know what to do. Viktor and Armand looked at our sister in surprise, then at my slowly growing anger.

"We... didn't know..." Viktor stammered. "Sorry Tatyana."

I felt Tatyana grip my shirt gently, as if she could sense that I was about to explode in rage any moment. I eased my shoulders slightly, and shook my head.

"No thank you, Armand. I have not the strength for it tonight."

"Come, my Lord," the whore coaxed, batting her eyelashes. "You don't have to do a thing. I'll make sure you'll be in Paradise. My tongue can trace your sword and make you close to bursting in no time."

Behind her Viktor and Armand exchanged alarmed looks.

Tatyana stiffened.

"Get out, whore," I spat. "Get out, and do not dare darken my doorway again!"

The whore cowered, as she realized too late that she had offended me. Armand snatched her arm roughly and dragged her away; Viktor paused to offer his apologies and ask if Tatyana needed to be escorted to her room.

"No. She will stay with me tonight," I told him.

I knew the various connotations that simple statement held, but if any of them occurred to Viktor, he didn't show it. He simply nodded and hurried after his twin.

I took Tatyana's hand and led her into my room. Thankfully it wasn't as messy as it was this morning: my desk was still littered with quills and parchment, but the rest of the room looked regal. And hospitable.

Tatyana immediately lay down on my bed, and after placing my scimitar on the table beside my bed, I joined her.

Ever since she was small, Tatyana slept with me. It was nothing sexual – she claimed my presence was soothing and therapeutic. I found it cumbersome at first, but I grew accustomed to her small form beside mine. At times she ended up punching me with her fist – once she kicked me off the bed – but most of the time she curled up in a fetal position and slept soundly.

She could have slept with Ivan, Viktor, or Armand, but I suspect that the frequent presence of whores in their beds kept her away. I never had the taste for whores or sex – although I was far from impotent – and that may have been the main reason why Tatyana preferred my bed over her other brothers.

As soon as my head hit the pillow she snuggled close to me, and as the minutes ticked by her breathing became even. I, on the other hand, remained awake for hours, forming countless battle strategies to be used over the next few weeks.

Erik's Memoir

The battle... nay, the war is over. We won. Viktor and Armand led a massive attack to the rebels' village and slaughtered their remaining forces, while taking their women and children as slaves. The army that had marched towards the capitol was defeated after a Persian messenger brought their leader the heads of his wife and young son.

Distracted and blinded by his fury, the rebel general committed many errors that cost him and his men their lives. It was satisfying to deliver a message to all and any who would dare defy the Dragonet rule: any enemy would be shown no mercy or chance of reprieve.

I know many talk behind my back of my ruthless methods. They serve a higher purpose: being feared is far more effective than being adored. Countless emissaries have been sent to offer gifts and promises of fealty and loyalty to the House of Dragonet.

Armand is delighted with the sudden outpouring of gifts, but I know that these wouldn't have come had we been defeated. One particular offering stood out: that of a proposal of marriage between the king of Transylvania, Valerian, and my sister, Tatyana.

Ivan says that Valerian is a trustworthy man, and Ivan is not one to easily deem a person trustworthy. Still, the very idea of marrying Tatyana to a Transylvanian brings a certain chill to my body. Every time the subject is brought up I feel the sudden urge to punch somebody. Tatyana is far too young to be a wife, let alone carry a child in her womb.

Viktor says I'm too overprotective of her, and perhaps it is true. Tatyana does not seem too eager to rush into the marriage; nevertheless, Valerian is on his way to visit us. Her, most likely. The entire palace is bustling with activity. I know if Valerian is pleased with Tatyana – and he should be, if he doesn't want me to rip his filthy European heart from his body and nail it to my bedroom door – then our family would be allied with the most powerful king along the Carpathian.

That prospect does not thrill me... if it means to push Tatyana into an unhappy union. Only her opinion matters at this point.

Erik

"My lord?"

A servant boy, no younger than fifteen, poked his head inside my room hesitantly. I spared him a seconds' glance before concluding my memoir entry for the day.

"Well? What is it?" I said testily, signing my name at the bottom of the page with a flourish. The boy hadn't spoken for nearly a minute, and I was in a really foul mood.

"The... Transylvanians have arrived, my lord," the boy finished, his voice trembling.

"Very well. Tell them I'll be right down."

"Yes my lord," the boy squeaked, obviously relieved that I didn't throw a knife at him. Perhaps I should have, if only to lessen the tense feeling I had.

I stood up from my desk and put on my black cape, which was long enough to trail after me as I walked out of the room. I knew that Tatyana was still in her room; I had, after all, instructed her to wait for me before going down to greet our guests.

I knocked smartly on her door. A few seconds passed before it creaked open, and was then flung all the way open. One of her handmaidens stood there bowing, and she stepped aside as I entered.

"Tatyana," was all I managed to say. The rest of my sentence was cut short when I saw her standing by her boudoir, wearing a deep blue dress of the finest silk, with golden cuffs and a full skirt. She was wearing the Dragonet crest on a fine filigree chain, and the pendant rested snugly between her breasts. Instead of wearing her hair up, she had opted to leave her hair cascading down her shoulders in soft amber waves. A small tiara, which belonged to our mother, was placed on her head, signalling her royal birth.

"Erik," she said, smiling at me nervously. "Is this alright?"

I nodded wordlessly and she watched me curiously. "It's... you look beautiful, dearest sister."

She giggled, and her skirt rustled as she walked up to me and placed her hand on my arm. "Shall we?"

I snapped out of my reverie and smiled back at her. "Of course."

The two of us swept out of her room, followed by two of her handmaidens. We walked in silence. I knew she was worrying over seeing her supposed fiancé, and I did not want to worry her further.

Finally she turned to me and asked: "How is he? I mean... have you seen him?"

I shook my head. "They just arrived a few minutes ago. I did not have the chance. Maybe Ivan or Viktor has – I know they've decided to wait by the main entrance."

Tatyana exhaled deeply and nodded. "I'm just nervous." She laughed shakily.

"I'll be with you every step of the way," I promised. "So will your other brothers. We won't let anything happen to you."

"I heard Ivan say you didn't like Valerian. How so?"

Damn that Ivan, I thought.

"Erik?"

I paused. "It's not that I don't like him," I said, thinking quickly. "It's just... you're still too young to be a wife."

Tatyana laughed softly. "Mother was my age when she married Father."

"That was different," I insisted. "Mother didn't have an older brother who worried constantly over her welfare."

"But she did have a younger brother," Tatyana pointed out.

"A younger brother who trusted the man she was going to marry," I argued.

"Why don't you trust Valerian?"

Instead of replying, I grunted. I didn't know what to say to her anymore. Tatyana had this uncanny talent of cornering me during an argument in only a few minutes. I usually found it amusing, but now I was surprised to find that it irritated me no end.

Just before we entered the banquet hall we were joined by Armand and his escort, one of the most expensive whores in the city. Like the rest of her kind, she was wearing only cleverly placed strips of cloth that covered her breasts and vagina. The rest of her body was on display and left little to the imagination.

Most men drooled and tripped over themselves whenever they saw a woman like that. I, on the other hand, found it repulsive. I glanced at Tatyana, who seemed too nervous to notice the fleshy display of the woman standing next to her brother.

I squeezed her hand gently to reassure her, and she looked at me and smiled.

"Have you seen this Valerian fellow, Erik?" Armand asked, looking at me from over the whore's head. "I hope he doesn't look like an oversized bat."

"He can look whatever he likes. It's his treatment of our sister I'm worried about," I replied waspishly.

"Same old Erik," Armand said, grinning.

I rolled my eyes and entered the hall, Tatyana by my side. The Transylvanian knights were sitting in the long table to my left, while their superiors were sitting at the head table. Ivan and his fiancée, Katalina, along with Viktor and his escort, the Lady Tamara, were on the right side. The table on the right side of the hall was occupied by Persian nobles.

Upon seeing us, the knights promptly stood up and bowed, followed by the Persians and the Transylvanian nobles. Tatyana clearly held every man's attention, and I tried not to let it bother me. Her neckline now seemed too low, her dress too transparent, and the state of her hair seemed to suggest that she had rolled out of bed after hours of love-making.

After what seemed like hours, Tatyana, Viktor, and the whore took their seats. I remained standing, waiting for Valerian to make himself known.

I was surprised to see a young and rather handsome – by my sister's standards – man stand up and offer his hand.

"Your Majesty. I am King Valerian of Transylvania. It is an honour to finally meet you," he said. His voice was thick and rich, and I knew he could be heard clearly throughout the hall.

I shook his hand vigorously; his grip was strong.

"The honour is mine," I said. "I understand you and your companions have come a long way, king. Please, sit down. Let the feast begin!"

I waited until Valerian had sat down – he was sitting beside Tatyana- before easing myself into my chair. The courses were brought out in quick succession, and the Transylvanians murmured their approval whenever a new dish appeared from the kitchens.

Conversation rose from every corner of the hall, and I noticed that Tatyana and Valerian had fallen easily into a deep conversation. I caught Ivan's eye and he nodded at the young king with approval. I nodded slowly.

As much as I hated to admit it, Valerian made a rather good first impression. I found myself liking the boy, and the way that he listened attentively to my sister showed that he was a man who would tend to his woman every moment of his life.

"What do you mean, Erik? I am old enough!"

Tatyana was enraged. It was a few days after Valerian had left for his country, but to my sister, it seemed like years. I had approved of their engagement, on the condition that they be married when Tatyana turned eighteen.

"You are only sixteen, Tatyana. Two years won't make much of a difference."

"It would make a difference to me!" Tatyana retorted. "Valerian and I love each other. I know I will be happy with him, Erik. Why must my life be controlled by an overbearing older brother?"

"That is enough!" I pounded my fist on my desk, and Tatyana flinched. "Tatyana, you push too far. I am only looking out for your best in-"

"No you're not! You just don't know when to let go! You keep controlling us like we're your personal puppets! Well I am not a ball of clay that you can mould the way you see fit, Erik. I make my own choices." Tatyana glared at me defiantly.

This was the first time she had gone against my wishes, and it took me a few seconds to recover. When I did, I was full of unchecked rage that I didn't realize what I was doing. It was only when Ivan and Armand had burst into my room and pulled my hands off of Tatyana's neck that I snapped out of it.

Tatyana lay on the floor coughing, and dark red marks covered her throat.

"Oh gods," I gasped in horror. "Tatyana, forgive me, I-"

"I hate you, Erik," she choked out. "I will never forgive you for this."

Nothing but hatred was in her eyes, and, for the first time in my life, I felt like curling up in a ball and crying. I would have flung myself at her feet and begged for her forgiveness, but I knew Ivan and Armand would have thought that I was trying to attack her and pull me back. So I remained still.

Tatyana rose to her feet shakily. I heard Ivan ask Armand if he could handle me on his own. Apparently Armand said that he could, because Ivan walked over to Tatyana and helped her to her feet. Before they left, Ivan turned to me.

"What have you done, Erik?"

Yes. What have I done? I thought.

After that incident, I sent a messenger to Valerian, stating that Tatyana would be arriving in a few weeks. I gave no reason why, but I indicated that if he should fail in taking care of her, war would come swiftly to his doorstep.

I spent the rest of the day in my room, refusing to eat or see anyone. By midnight, I heard the door to my room open.

"She says good-bye, Erik." Ivan approached me and sat down on the bed. I was hunched over the desk, sketching Tatyana's face furiously.

"Is she still furious?"

"What do you think? You did try and strangle her. What came over you, brother?"Ivan looked at me curiously. "We have never seen you that angry, not around us, at least."

"I don't know what came over me," I muttered, filling in a few minute details to my sketch. "All I know is that I will never forgive myself for that. Never."

Ivan sighed. "I know you feel that you're looking after her – us. But sometimes you cannot control another person's fate. Mother and Father were meant to die. Maybe it is Tatyana's destiny to live out the rest of her life in another country. Aren't you eager to see her children? Imagine what they would look like, with the Dragonet and Dracul blood flowing through their veins."

"Haven't you heard of the rebellion, Ivan? Many are against Valerian's rule. Haven't you given any thought to the possibility that, by sending our dear sister to him, we are sending her to her death?"

"How so?"

I turned my head and smiled at him darkly. "They will try and use her to get to Valerian. Are you willing to take that chance with our sister?"

"Is that why you don't want her to go?"

I nodded. "I'm her overbearing brother. I must act so."

"She knows you're only looking out for her. But she's dead-set on marrying Valerian, Erik. Are you going to stand in the way of her happiness?"

It took me a while to answer. Finally I nodded. Before Ivan left I told him about the letter I sent to Valerian. Ivan smiled.

"Then you didn't need my counsel after all. You made the decision yourself." he said, closing the door behind him.

Once I was alone I stood up and paced the entire length of the room. I wanted to visit Tatyana; this was, after all, her last night in Persia. But secretly, I was scared. What if she turned me away in anger? I didn't think I could bear the sight of her pretty face all contorted with rage.

Not again, I said silently.

Erik's Memoir

It's all over. My entire world, my very existence, snuffed out in an instant. I have nothing left but this blinding rage, this unreasonable anger. I refuse to see to any course of action but one: WAR. It has isolated me from my brothers, and even from Ivan. I don't care. I don't care if I die the next day, the next week, or even next year. All I cared about was her.

Tatyana.

Even writing her name brings a swift pain to my heart, pain that can never be erased. The last few weeks have changed everything, and yet I must relive each painful moment for the sake of this memoir.

Tatyana and I settled our differences the day after I tried to strangle her. She forgave me far too quickly, but I was immensely relieved that she did so. I helped her into the carriage that would spirit her away to her new home, not knowing that as I held her hand, I was holding her for the last time. My sister had said her goodbyes to our brothers, but she wanted to say goodbye to me before she left.

"I will always love you, Erik. I am sorry for what I said to you yesterday, and all is forgiven. I will visit with Valerian as much as I can," she told me, and her eyes – the same ones that held hatred in them only a few hours ago – conveyed all her love for me. I could not help but believe her.

I tried to say goodbye, but all I managed was "Safe journey, sister." She seemed to understand, for she gave me one last hug and climbed into the carriage.

It took her two and a half weeks to travel to her would-be husband. She was crowned queen the day after her arrival, and was kidnapped by the very rebels I had discussed with Ivan two days after her coronation. On the third day of her capture, she was dead. News of her death reached us yesterday, including the gruesome details of her capture, imprisonment, and death.

The things the rebels did to my sister are so heinous that I am appalled to learn that Valerian has done nothing. Nothing.

I have thus waged war against entire Transylvania, against its irresponsible king, and most especially, against the rebels who have dared defile my lovely sister.

Ivan, Viktor, and Armand think I have gone mad. I am perfectly sane. I know what I must do: avenge the death of my sister and punish the perpetrators who dared snatch away a life as vibrant, as beautiful, and as pure as my sister's.

I vow on the graves of my mother and father that I shall not rest until Tatyana Dragonet has achieved the justice she so rightfully deserves.

Erik