Inside the Viper's Nest

two

VERONA HELD UP A hand as she squinted at the sun rays blocking her view. She wore a black vest-like dress with sleeves that curled on her wrists and ballet flats. A coat hung on her shoulders, and her gold jewelry was the only drop of colour on her attire.

"You look like you're heading to a funeral," commented her elder cousin, Victor, on her right. He was the very definition of pristine, with his navy tie and perfectly polished shoes. His brown hair had been slicked back, and his eyes suddenly look older, much older, than he really was.

"And you to an early grave," she replied, her tone clipped. She and Victor were born at each other's throats. Her earliest memory in this life was a burning hatred for him. "If you need my concealer to get rid of those eyebags, you can just ask."

Victor turned towards her, ready to argue, but it was Alistair that spoke instead. "How long is he going to take?" He sighed, inhaling a hit of his cigarette. "It's too goddamn cold."

"Maybe you should wait inside," his twin brother said. "And take a shower while you're at it. You know Grandfather hates cigarettes."

"I know. That's why I'm smoking."

The twins, Victor's little brothers, were perhaps the only normal members of this family, as far as normal goes. Somedays, she was certain she would've gone mad if it weren't for the chaos they created around the manor. Not that she'd ever tell them that.

Their parents, Antoine and Camille were currently taking care of business in London, and wouldn't be back until the holidays. She found that she greatly missed their presence around the manor.

A black Mercedes G-Class rolled up around the fountain and in front of the grand doors, where they stood at the very moment. They all straighten in unison and Alistair, for all his splendor, tossed the cigarette far away from him.

Sebastian De Rohan strolled out of his car, thanking the chauffeur for opening his door with a nod of the head. His hair had turned gray over the years, and his features were set in a permanent scowl. He had always looked cruel, even when she was a child. Had acted like it too.

It was Victor, of course, who spoke first. "Welcome back, Grandfather. How was your flight?"

"Tiring. New York is as good as a dump."

Verona refrained from mentioning that it was in that very dump that he had been born and raised in. Instead, she said "Welcome back Grandfather. We've missed you." The twins followed suit.

His gray eyes sliced through her own, as if spotting a lie. He looked at her up and down before turning to Victor once again. "Tell the staff to get the table ready. I need a word with Verona before we dine."

Verona hoped she didn't look as panic as she felt. Why would he need to have a word with her? Did he somehow figure out what she was up to?

Victor on the other hand, looked like he had been slapped in the face. His eyes dug into hers, as if asking what does he have to say to you that he doesn't want to say to me? But Verona ignored him. She ignored the staff that came rushing to grab Sebastian's suitcase as well. She only focused on the back of her grandfather's figure as he walked towards his study.

"Oh, and Alistair," he said before disappearing into the room. "If I catch you smoking again, I'll stub it out on your tongue." Verona could've sworn she felt the boy pale.

She stepped inside the study, and closed the door softly behind her. The room was dark, wood-stained with shelves full of books on both sides, and a tall glass window in the middle. A miniature statue of Themis, the Goddess of justice, stood tall and proud on his desk, holding a pair of scales in one hand, and a sword in the other.