~1864~

As the 1850s bled into the 1860s, there was a decided role reversal of sorts between Claire and Sean. In the time since delivering a very bloody form of justice as well as vengeance to Ilana after her two month killing spree, Sean became the one who began keeping his feelings locked away inside. It was true that that had always been his way with those under his command in his role as Prince; but it had never been his way with Claire. In nearly three centuries, she was usually the only one who did get to see his true feelings; even without the benefit of being able to read him the way he could read most others. The most troubling part about this change though was that Claire was not sure if he was trying to hide his feelings from her or himself; or perhaps the answer was both.

Despite Sean’s refusal to face the way he felt about taking a human life purposely and vindictively; those feelings did slowly begin to seep through in increasingly larger ways over the next six years. Most of the time when Claire noticed the hairline cracks in his composure was in private moments when it was just she and Sean. She often found him staring somberly and sullenly out across the ocean or even just the bedroom as though in deep and silent thought; and oftentimes when he would catch her looking his way with concern he would make an obvious attempt to force down his emotions and sometimes even his tears.

Claire desperately wanted to try to coax him into sharing his inner turmoil with her; but having dealt with such similar demons for all the years since her embrace, she knew that the one thing that always broke her was when she was asked outright how she felt. It was those times that she could no longer pretend that things were ok or hold onto any composure at all in the face of another noting her despair; and she had the suspicion that if she did ask Sean to speak about his own demons before he chose to do so himself, he would lose every bit of his iron grip on those emotions as well. And any Kindred losing the grip on their emotions was always terrifying to themselves as well as any others who witnessed such.

However, when his buried emotions began affecting his ability to perform his duties; that was when things began to come to a head. As Prince, it was Sean who had the final say in any judgment passed on all Kindred in his territory who broke the Camarilla’s laws, which were known as The Six Traditions. The Traditions were the Masquerade, the Domain, the Progeny, the Accounting, Hospitality, and Destruction. Each of these laws, when broken, were to be met with one of three fitting punishments; The Lextalionis (blood hunt/execution), the Dominatus (forcing the offender to become bound to the Prince), and the Exsilium (exiling the offender from the territory). All three of which were attempted by Haven back when Awsha had caused them all such problems. And now it was Sean’s duty to choose the fitting punishment for any transgressor in his territory.

Sean had always hated making those decisions. But his hatred of making those calls had only grown even more severe since the night that he had delivered such a judgment to a mortal rather than one of his own kind, and had done it with his own hands. Each time he was called upon to pass judgment on his own people over the next six years, it was obvious that he was letting his own repressed guilt color each decision. As he continued to ignore any suggestions put forth by the rest of the council and chose exiling in every case that had been brought before him in those years, the Primogen became increasingly angry and disillusioned with their Prince.

Of course Claire never dared to question his decisions aloud herself. Even though she did occasionally feel that a harsher punishment was deserved, the bond of blood and love that she had to Sean did keep her voice silent in most cases. But as the other Primogen grew louder and more adamant in their disagreement with Sean’s lenience, she knew that she had to finally force herself to confront him, as she was possibly the only one who he may be willing to let himself actually hear through the din of all that guilt swirling inside him.

When that night’s meeting ended and the other Primogen began to leave in angry disdain over Sean delivering another lenient punishment, Claire stayed behind once more and centered a concerned look on Sean as the Ventrue Primogen, Radek, left muttering under his breath that he was not going to stand for living under an utter lack of rule any longer.

“Yes?” Sean asked with a sigh as the door slammed behind Radek and he then caught Claire’s concerned emerald eyes on him.

“Was that a threat?” Claire asked as she nodded to the door that had just slammed behind Radek, who had been embraced into the most domineering and power-hungry clan of the Ventrue in 1685.

Though Radek was nearly a century younger than Sean and Claire, he was still almost two centuries old himself, and quite adamant in his disagreement. As was Larkin’s childe, Ford, who was already a hot-tempered Brujah and embraced in 1709 himself. Then there was Kalen, a member of the studious masters of blood magic known as the Tremere since 1673, only a year later than Awsha’s embrace by Haven. Older still was the hideous Nosferatu Primogen, Dahlia, who had been embraced in 1658 and was just as upset by Sean allowing lawbreakers to keep their unlives as long as they were outside the borders of his own territory. That only left Lissa, Minna and Claire. Minna said nothing that made sense as usual, but she seemed particularly agitated of late as well. Lissa had also looked quite unhappy with Sean’s decisions but usually voiced her disagreement in a quieter way out of respect for her long-standing friendship with Sean and Claire since she and Minna had shared their ship from England all the way back in 1690.

“A threat?” Sean asked with a further sigh.

“Radek said he wasn’t going to stand for your decisions any longer” Claire repeated, though quietly.

“Radek has been saying shit like that since the day we met; I think it’s the way all Ventrues greet any Prince who’s not of their own clan” Sean shrugged as he simply looked down at the table and said nothing more on the matter.

“None of them seem very happy though, Sean” she dared further, trying to plan how to broach the subject when she had spent six years already allowing him his silence in the hope that he would eventually give in to sharing all those repressed feelings with her someday.

“What was the first clue? The yelling, glaring, or door slamming?” he stated with the same forced lack of concern.

Claire let out her own heavy sigh, “it’s just been getting worse over the last few years. They’re getting angrier and angrier that you seem to not even consider their opinions on the punishments.”

“I already know that they’re angry, Claire. So are you speaking for them or yourself, finally” he added the last word under his breath.

She easily caught the coloring of his tone and frowned over at him, “I’ve just been trying to be supportive, Sean; since no one else seems to be anymore” she added with another sad sigh.

Sean scoffed, “is that your way of telling me you agree with them?”

“The harsher punishments exist for a reason, Sean” Claire managed, though her voice remained small.

“So, you think I should just kill every Kindred that bends a rule?” he scoffed once more.

“The more lenient punishments exist for a reason, too” she told him with slightly more volume, “you have to choose which is warranted; and lately you don’t even seem to be considering anything but the most lenient punishment, regardless of the crime” she forced her way through that sentence, trying to temper her concern with logic.

“When did you get so bloodthirsty?” Sean mumbled.

Claire was the one who scoffed then, “I’m not being bloodthirsty and you know that. I just got done saying that there’s a place for all three punishments; you have to choose which fits the crime. That’s just common sense” she sighed again, “and you used to use that.”

“So, now I don’t have common sense?” Sean returned.

“I said you weren’t using it, not that you didn’t have it” Claire dared further, wishing she didn’t have to come off sounding like it was a personal attack, as she honestly was trying to help.

“Well at least the other Primogen can rest assured knowing that you actually do agree with them for the first time ever” he replied in another sarcastic mumble.

“It’s a matter of them not being wrong for the first time ever; if you refuse to give fitting punishments, you know what it could lead to… easily” she added more quietly, looking down once more. “And I don’t mean just that people will have no respect for the law if it’s never enforced. I mean having a whole council of other Kindred and most likely their clans also being upset by your rulings… you know how bad it could get, Sean” she pleaded with him to understand.

Sean simply sighed once more in response to her statements rather than offering any further defense or argument. Though Claire still was not sure if that meant that she had gotten through to him at last; or if it simply meant that he no longer wanted to have the discussion at all. And that worried her as well. However, she was not sure what else she could even say that she hadn’t already said.

Then Claire had one more thought of how to get through to him; though she was loathe to use it, but something had to be done. So she forced one more sentence through her lips as she slowly moved toward the door, “just remember that if they continue to get this angry at you, you may not be the only one they lash out at.” Claire did not look back to see Sean’s reaction to her being the one using his greatest weakness against him then as she hurried out of the room to let that reality sink in for him at last.

After the meeting and his conversation with Claire following it, Sean did make one immediate change. That very night, he sent out messengers to each of the clans’ havens informing them that the meetings would now be held every six months instead of every month, with the option to call emergency meetings if warranted, of course. And then it was simply a matter of waiting those six months to see if Sean’s decision making would be affected as well.

However the next issue that Sean had to deal with regarding the other clans was when he got word of what exactly Radek had meant when he said he would not be enduring Sean’s rulings for much longer. Thankfully it was more of a political retaliation rather than a bloody one; after all, Radek was a Ventrue and cared more for politics, power and position than bloodshed on most nights. Radek had been cultivating contacts outside of Sean’s territory for a long while it seemed; and it paid off for him at last when he was finally offered his own Princedom over a territory that was east of Los Angeles, and would eventually become known to the world as Las Vegas. And so Sean needed to choose a new Ventrue Primogen to fill Radek’s position.

After a few months with no promising candidates being found among the much younger members of clan Ventrue who had settled in the city, Sean got word from his contacts in Europe that there was indeed a possible candidate heading his way. On the night of the ship in question making its way to port, Sean moved to the main hall to greet this new arrival with a squaring of his shoulders as all Ventrue were a bit more than abrasive at best, let alone when meeting a Prince that was not of their own clan.

When the new Kindred was shown into the main hall, he appeared to be of obvious Italian descent and most likely a member of that country’s nobility as nearly all Ventrue were some form of nobility in life. That fact of course only added to their belief that they were better than others, as it was most often a belief they had held even before gaining the power that came with their new existence. The man had straight black locks pulled into a long ponytail and was dressed in finery of course as he stepped into the hall and offered Sean a cool smile, reaching for his hand out of politeness alone.

“Palmiro Cantarini I presume?” Sean greeted him first as he held out his hand, knowing that pretending that his visitor was as important to him as he was to himself was always the way to approach a member of the most snobbish and self-important clan among the whole of their species.

“Just going by Palmer in this quaint new world of yours now” Palmer stated with the faintest remnants of his Italian accent peeking in at the corners of that usual air of superiority he spoke with while his eyes moved around the hall, passing silent judgment on every piece of his surroundings, Sean included.

“Sean Beringer” Sean offered as they shook hands impersonally while the other man’s dark eyes continued to size up his new Prince’s home.

“Toreador, hmm?” Palmer returned flatly as his eyes came back to Sean and then moved over him once more.

“Yes, and I assume that you know you’re here to possibly replace my former Primogen, Radek?”

Palmer smirked with some hidden knowledge as he looked around the room once more, “it’s possible; but you’re most likely referring to my sire as that replacement.”

Sean swallowed a bit at that as Palmer was not too obviously affected by Sean’s presence, which would insinuate that he was rather old himself. Then again, he would have to be older than the other Ventrue currently residing in the city if he had been suggested by those Kindred Sean was acquainted with back in Europe.

“So your sire is here too then?” Sean asked as he looked around pointedly.

“Probably busy instructing our servants on where to place each and every possession they remove from the ship” Palmer responded in the same disinterested tone, “will most likely be here shortly” he added with a near yawn despite the Kindred immunity to any such thing as fatigue.

“So, you and your sire have stayed traveling companions since your embrace?” Sean attempted to push the conversation forward as he eyed the door behind Palmer awaiting the arrival of an even older member of that thoroughly tiresome clan who was most likely even more off-putting, as most elder Kindred did become so with age even when they weren’t Ventrue.

“Is that your subtle way of asking my age?” Palmer smirked again.

“It is a rather important fact if you and your sire will both be moving to my territory, isn’t it?” Sean returned, attempting to hold his own smile.

“I suppose I’d be worried too if I had just had to deal with Hollister’s childe being an antitribu and much older than myself; especially if I were a Prince” Palmer added wryly, “I can understand why you’d feel threatened by another elder Kindred in your territory” he finished pointedly.

“That was over forty years ago” Sean had to remind, “I’m older now” he added, reflecting Palmer’s wry tone.

“Touché” Palmer smirked once more, “but as for your question, I was embraced in 1610 myself; so you’re still slightly older than me. Slightly” he added as he turned his dark brown eyes toward the door then, eyeing it from his height of six foot, only about four inches shorter than Sean.

Easily noting those eyes turning toward the door, Sean could only assume that he was about to meet that sire momentarily. After all, all Kindred sensed their sires no matter what clan they hailed from. On that note, Sean attempted to force his nerves to steel as Palmer’s date of embrace was only twelve years after his own, which did give him cause to worry that his sire could very likely be older than Sean and Claire were. And as Palmer had stated; that was always a worrisome prospect. Though at least a Ventrue’s usual skill set did not include aura or mind-reading unless a Kindred who did have that power was foolish enough to teach them. Though they were among those that could force their will on others, as it was one of their clan who had actually taught that skill to Griffyn centuries earlier, who then passed it to Hollister, who then passed it to Haven.

It was indeed only another moment before the other new arrival stepped through the door; though their appearance was not what Sean expected at all. Firstly, she was a woman; and secondly, she was beyond beautiful. She stood at approximately five-eight and had long, straight, pale blonde locks that fell below her waist and eerie eyes that were such a light brown they almost looked golden. She possessed the sort of beauty one would expect from a Toreador, only she was not; which made that beauty almost seem wasted on a woman who most likely cared nothing for the love and passion and humanity that Toreadors held in such high regard.

Palmer simply smirked again as Sean’s response to her appearance was more than obvious even without the ability to read his mind. Palmer then moved to offer the woman a light kiss upon her cheek, which she only smiled politely at as her eyes moved over where Sean stood, more than a bit thrown by her beauty.

That was when Palmer’s voice broke into Sean’s consciousness at last, “my Prince, may I introduce you to your new Primogen, Octavia; my sire… and wife.”