The Price of Knowing [open] Mar 16, 2011 4:58:26 GMT -8
Post by on Mar 16, 2011 4:58:26 GMT -8
Katya was neither a morning person or a night person. She might accurately be called both. She loved both. What she was not was an afternoon person -- she hated the brightness, the sleepy way the light fell, the pressing activity of the masses. It was for the latter reason that she had chosen to come this early. She hoped that she had gone off early in the morning enough to ease her dad's suspicion, but she worried. Even if they didn't get a lot of one-on-one time, she kept him apprised of all of her appointments and daily doings. If he was in the house, she always told him where she was going before she left. This time she'd done her best to sneak out, turning her hair and skin as black as night in order to blend in with the dark morning. It was possible that her efforts to be sneaky had worked against her, but she'd been too nervous. He had a way of knowing things she knew he shouldn't.
She had just about a week until the train left for Hogwarts. She'd been growing more and more anxious to go all summer, eager to leap back into her studies. Yet now, she felt her anxiety building. She tried to tell herself that it was because she was concerned that her dad (who she was quickly coming to see as a womaniser) would hurt Sienna or vice versa, or that Morgana would find out (was it possible that she didn't already know?) and do something underhanded in her fury. It was, Katya thought, insulting soon for him to be dating again. She ascribed it also to nervousness, having been mostly sheltered from the auspices of fame during the last semester at Hogwarts because the press release hadn't gone out until she'd come home. Now there would be no mercy. Being a teenager was difficult enough without a new school -- or a new country for that matter, or being the long missing daughter of said country's (highly controversial) prime magical leader.
But those reasons didn't hold. The fact was, she couldn't leave a girl whose name and face she knew, who she might potentially have been friends with in different circumstances, alone and in slavery. What compounded the need was her desperation to feel that she fully knew her father. Pieces of the puzzle of her kidnapping, her mother's death and Trevor's journey to where he was now remained unsolved. Explanations that had been offered just didn't seem right to her. She needed to know, regardless of the price. Julia had become the haunting human icon of all of the worst fears about her father. She couldn't just leave her, even if she had no idea what she could or might do.
When she reached the entrance to the slave quarters, she found herself blocked by guards. They were adamant that she could not enter, but she could tell that they were a little unsure. Maybe not officially, but she had authority. Everyone suspected her of being daddy's little girl, and no one wanted to mess with daddy. It stood to reason not to mess with the little girl, either. Arms akimbo but back straight, she lifted a brow empirically in the way garnered from Morgana and swept her eyes over the both of them, unimpressed. They squirmed.
"Vell, since you insist on making my day difficult, vhy don't you do some of my vork for me? I need to find Julia Porter." The guards exchanged a covert glance she didn't like, and she felt her skin tingle coldly. "That vasn't really a request, gentlemen."