i ran from my enemies for 500 years, & then one day, i stopped. so call it PRIDE or VANITY, but after the life that i've led, i refuse to
The Story of and Preceding Katherine’s Daughter
Nine months of pregnancy first appeared to be a curse for Katerina, a reminder of the love that was nothing but a fallacy. The small being growing within her was the result of a foolish night, a night where she believed her dreams would come true. But now stripped of her innocence, the only thing that awaited her was disappointment.
His name was Andrei. Though if you would ask Katherine now, she would say she had forgotten and believe me, she does try to forget. Andrei was one of the most attractive men in her sect of Bulgaria and just as he caught her eye, Katerina caught his as well as many others. She was becoming a beautiful young woman, coveted and sought by many, her beauty rivaling most of the others in that village. Growing up with stories of true love that her mother would recite to her to lull her too sleep, Kat dreamt of the day she would meet him, the one. And there he was, staring at her from across the way with such an enchanting set of emerald irises. While her intentions were pure, to fall in love, to marry, to have a family of her own, his were far more sinister.
He wanted to possess the Petrova beauty, to take her before any man could and he would have her, feeding her whatever little white lies he had to. Smitten, Katerina believed them all, devouring them as if they were the chocolates her father would give her. On that night, the night her daughter was conceived, he had said he loved her, confessed it into the softest of kisses, easing her into the bed chamber with promise of his hand, of a happy ending. But when she awoke the next morning, the beloved girl was tossed to the street, done away with and discarded. If the crushing heartbreak was not enough, the weight of her news was enough to bring her to her knees, to pray for forgiveness.
Katerina Petrova was with child without a man at her side. She did her best to conceal it, larger dresses, excusing herself to allow her morning sickness to take its course until her mother put two-and-two together. That was when the world began to crumble around her. The entire family shunned her, secluding her and her growing belly in the home, never to leave, never to be seen, her own father screaming at the top of his lungs, incessantly ranting about how she had disgraced them all, how she was a harlot.
“Who will love you, Katerina? Who would want a whore as a wife? How do you expect to care for this child? With your idiotic whimsy alone?! I damn you! You are a disgrace! And the moment that child is born, you are not my daughter! I disown you! You are not a Petrova!”
Not even the fires of hell could cleanse her soul, nothing could absolve her sins. At first, left in her solitude when the entire family met for meals and stories by the fire, she resented the child that grew within her, vehemently loathing the reminder of her idiocy. All Katerina wanted was to fall in love and yet she was left disgusted even by the thought, hating love and the broken state of her heart. It was until her mother was at her side, caring for her, loving her when the others did not. Nights went by crying into her mother’s embrace, relishing the safety and comfort it provided, the soft reassuring murmurs uttered to soothe her. How could she be mother at so young? How could she have tainted their family name? Regardless of what was to transpire, of the burden she had become, her mother still loved her, telling her to have hope in love, that she would find it again.
“How could I have been so foolish, Mama? I was convinced he was the one, that he truly loved me …"
"Katerina, true love is not real unless it is returned. You must still believe that it exists. You will find it. Someone out there is your true love.You must always have hope. Life is too short for such sorrow. I love you. I will always love you. My beautiful Katerina Rayna.”
With a nod, the night came and lost in the abyss of sleep, agonizing pain took hold, screaming out for the only one who would care. She was in labor, hour after hour of pain, writhing, screaming and crying for some sort of escape until it was time. In moments as the sun just began to break the crest of the sky, shrill cries of life emanated from her bedroom, echoing as her aching heart which to soothe them, to coddle her daughter and stare into the miracle she had bore into the world. But as her wishes were about to be fulfilled, the voice of her father tore into space, scolding her Mama for even thinking of letting her hold her daughter. Arms stretched out to receive the small form, that crying baby girl was snatched from her grasp and sent away, crawling across the sweat-drenched, blood-stained sheets to halt them, to plead for her daughter despite the horrid pain. Her efforts went unnoticed, left to collapse into her mother, tears streaking down her cheeks as she watched her daughter disappear into the night. Her chance at having her own family and being a mother herself taken from her, stolen away.
—- 1492 —-
Once healed, Katerina was shipped across Europe to England on her own as to not shame her family anymore. But while in that place, while running for her life, what she yearned for most was her family and safety of her mother’s arms. All of those hopes were lost when she had found them, massacred in cold blood, left to empty herself of all emotion to survive, to live, to run. But before she had left, her empty gaze caught the sight of a letter written in her Mama’s hand, telling her of where her daughter was, of who she was with until the crimson staining the parchment caused the onyx ink to bleed.
—- Later —-
Throughout the years, Katerina visited her daughter, watch that beautiful little girl run and dance through the tall grass, calling another woman ‘Mama.’ She was the spitting image of her true mother, the same cheekbones, lips, button nose, all framed by chocolate curls. The only difference was her eyes, the eyes of her father, twinkling jade orbs curiously exploring the world around her. Countless times, Kat would return to ensure that little girl was safe and happy, watching her grow into a stunning woman, their only meeting being one evening when she had stumbled into the vampiress, muttering an apology before running to her who seemed to be her husband. This girl was never given a name because she was not Katerina’s to name until she had heard it, Karolina
But as Kara began to age, Kat could do nothing but watch, seeing her wither away until she had visited her one last time. Staring through the glass of the window pane, she saw a frail old woman, grey-haired, barely drawing in each breath until the movement of her chest just ceased, falling deathly still, the lamenting wails of Karolina’s children echoing from the home. In that moment, Katerina felt nothing, her humanity lost years prior, left to stare off lifelessly, blankly while her daughter drew in her last breath.
