(CHAPTER THREE :
KOL)

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IMMEDIATELY, EVERYBODY GATHERED THAT tonight would be an insufferable, tedious evening. From the minute Elijah Mikaelson greeted the three of us at the door, it was clear. Whether that was due to Stefan Salvatore's intensive, ever-present frown lines, Damon's wretched stench of Bourbon overpowering the air or my dense scowl, I was unsure.

"Niklaus, our guests have arrived." Elijah called to his brother when none of us dared to break the stiff silence that had fallen upon us all. In the air, only the sound of my heels scuffing against the floor could be heard. It wasn't an anxious shuffling of feet, it was an awkward one that sought out to fill the void of noise. To me, silence was unbearable.

Arrogance radiated off of Klaus Mikaelson's physique as he strutted into the room, his signature eerie smirk present—as always. "Damon, Stefan, Elijah tells me you seek an audience. Very bold. Let's discuss the terms of our agreement like civilized men, shall we?" Then, his button eyes flickered to me, creasing in confusion. Leaning forward slightly, he scrutinised me, every inch of my body. "I wasn't aware that the invite had got extended to Charlotte, but it is a delightful surprise. Always a pleasure, love." The Original smoothly disguised his surprise at my unexpected appearance.

"Pity I can't say the same." I responded sharply, purposely bumping shoulders with the older vampire as I went to swiftly take a seat at the extended dining table.

Idle chatter and insults were passed between the boys, each one more juvenile than the last. Unable to feign attentiveness for another unendurable moment, my heedful gaze found it lingering on the ignited fireplace, my mind drifting back to a similar scenario from my human life.

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PORTLAND, OREGON [1907]

I straightened out my posture, mentally racking through every lesson of etiquette that I had been taught. Over time every rule blurred together, not that I could ever admit that though. My Mother had prodded me and shaped me to be a proper young lady, someone she could be proud of. It was out of the question to not be absolutely perfect—reputation was everything to my family.

"Good afternoon, Mother, Father." I greeted curtly, flashing my parents a charming smile. "I've finished setting all the places, as requested, but I must ask did I have to set five places set? Perhaps we are having guests over?" I continued with curiosity creeping into my voice, I ensured that my curiosity was purely innocent wonder though. I would not have wanted to impose by forcing an answer from my parents or appear rude.

Both Mother and Father had some form of unspoken conversation with their eyes. In fact, my Mother always used to insist that a person's eyes were their window to their soul and could say more than words ever could. I truly stood by her on that, eyes could be a form of communication—she knew that better than anybody. I attempted to decipher what both of them were trying to communicate to the other, however I huffed in defeat. I had was clueless as to what they were saying to the other, nor if I was correct in assuming we were having guests over.

After what seemed like a brief battle between my parents, my mother sighed and surrendered reluctantly. She placed her hand on my shoulder, which was unusual for her as she despises any physical contact. "Charlotte, you are maturing steadily now and any reasonable young lady of your age should be considering settling down soon." Mother confessed.

"Your mother and I only wish to ensure that you find someone soon. You are certainly not getting any younger." My Father added on, his usual grimace disappearing for the briefest moment.

Their words took a short while to fully soak in. I only hoped my mother would have elaborated on what she meant. For example, what did she mean by settling down? It would be absurd to presume she was implying marriage, surely that was not the case. I was conscious that some women chose to marry rather young, but I only turned seventeen a week ago. Most women would commonly marry at around twenty years so I always guessed that I would not have to settle so soon.

My smile faltered for a brief moment, however it was soon plastered across my face once again. "I'm only young, seventeen is not exactly old. There has not even been suitor that has appealed to me. Otherwise I would have not hesitated with such commitment." I chose my words carefully, refusing to displease my parents. The idea of displeasing them was not a pleasant thought.

"We are not unreasonable, Charlotte." Father insisted, taking a step dangerously close to me. "Just realise that you are a very pretty young lady and that will not last forever. Beauty is not eternal. So we took away the burden of you finding a suitor before your beauty is gone. We have found you an excellent suitor and they will be attending dinner, then you will be married as quick as possible. Before you lose your looks, of course." His voice was pointed and his words were clear, yet sharp. There was obviously no room for objections.

I nodded weakly, not daring to speak again. My Father was a fair man, a good man even, but was not one to disagree with. Sometimes he could even be rather frightening and it displeased me hugely whenever he shouted. Sometimes he could actually be rather harsh on me, but I understood he had the best intentions at heart. So it was best to agree with him sometimes, in fact it was easier to do so.

My Father gave me a firm pat on the back. "Good. They will be here any time now, please go and make yourself presentable."

Smile. Compliment. Only speak when spoken to. Be polite. Accept loving gestures. Be quiet. That was what I was instructed to do when my suitor arrived, by doing so I would be like a robot, not that I cared. All I cared about was father being proud of me, I longed for his approval—even if I meant that I would have to act like a porcelain doll to get gain it.

"Charlotte." I heard through gritted teeth and jumped slightly in surprise before regaining my composure. My suitor and his Father had arrived, precisely on time.  

Smile. I did so, exposing my pearl coloured teeth in all their glory. Compliment. "You look rather dapper this evening, if I may say so." Only speak when spoken to. "Yes." "No." "That would be lovely." "Thank you." Be polite. "You are far too kind." "May I?" "You are the guests, allow me." Accept loving gestures. I allowed him to kiss my hand and my cheeks tinted a rosy shade when he did so. When he caressed my cheek, I bowed my head to the ground and softly smiled whenever his hand brushed my own.

As a result, the evening went as planned. It even exceeded my Mother's original expectations, that being an extremely challenging thing to accomplish. I was the definition of a flawless daughter l, never once reflecting anything other than perfection. Even if I was secretly against the entire ordeal.

I must admit that Thomas was a fine man. I could not point out anything too awful about him, he was well respected in the community with a respectable job as well. Many women might even kill to be with such a man as he, but I was still not fully sure of the marriage. I was never going to be a hundred percent on board with marrying him, I always dreamed to find a story book love on my own accord. Not that mattered anymore, if sacrificing my own happiness meant my parents were proud of me then so be it. I only ever wanted for them to radiate with pride because of me, just for once.

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Unquestionably, that particular dinner party was rather unforgettable. Actually, the marriage never did proceed because months following, I'd met somebody else and Thomas was murdered in cold blood. Pressing my eyelids closed, I tried to remember the name of my old sweetheart, but it wouldn't come to me. In spite of no longer knowing his name—in fairness, a century had passed—I knew that I was head over heels in love with the man. He made me rebellious, going against my parents and I became indifferent to their approval. The two of us had shared the consuming, wild kind of romance that occurred once in a lifetime—an immortal one included. I was that enthralled in his love that I'd agreed to abandon Portland for him, to run away with him. But, alas, he never showed and it was a tragic ending for the melancholy girl I used to be. After that, I left my hopeless romantic susceptibilities behind and sworn off trusting any man with the same undeniably charming tongue like his. People like him only caused suffering.

"Charlotte, Charlotte." A British accent parted me from my profound thoughts, a sense of exasperation splintering through his tone.

"Don't call me that." I barked suddenly, that name having too many attachments. My fickle Father and malevolent Mother named me Charlotte. And he always referred to me as that. I didn't appreciate any reminders of my cruel past, or no more than necessary. "I much prefer Lottie. Charlotte sounds old fashioned, wouldn't you agree?" I corrected myself speedily, holding my tongue from mentioning my parents or old flame. It seemed as if Klaus would have been the type of person that would manipulate such calamities against me.

"I apologise, you just zoned out there for a minute." He informed me, his grin posed to a substantial standard. "Don't worry, you didn't miss anything too riveting. Stefan has been itching to say a few choice words to me for the entire duration and Damon is trying to hold him back. It is rather amusing." Klaus snickered, filling me on what I'd missed out on. Of which Stefan replied to with an inhuman grumble and Damon rested his head on the table, cursing under his breath.

I furrowed my eyebrows. "I don't know where you got the inclination I wanted to talk you because I don't." I chided, noting how he raised an eyebrow with curiosity. "If you think I intend to kiss your ass for the next century since Damon is quaking at the thought of you hurting his Elena, you're wrong. I'm capable of protecting my friends without grovelling at your feet—unlike others." I asserted, clutching the silverware in my hand in such a clinched way that it cut into the palm of my hand, drawing blood.

Whereas I, and everybody else at the table from their scathing stares, thought the almighty and ruthless Klaus Mikaelson would explode, he didn't. Instead, the grin on his face inched wider, like the Cheshire Cat's. "His Elena?" He recited what I said, leaving his brother rather puzzled. "Stefan, where is the lovely Elena tonight?" The Hybrid dared, knowing perfectly well he was treading on dangerous waters.

"I don't know." Stefan flared his nostrils. "Ask Damon." He prompted, stabbing his fork deeper into the meal on the table—not that he had yet to devour any.

"I'm sorry, you've missed so much. Ah, trouble in paradise." Klaus chortled, his laughter booming whilst Elijah nodded with hesitance, clueless to what he had missed.

Stony-eyed and the veins in his neck pulsing, Stefan's head snapped to one side, the crack echoing in the large room. "One more word about Elena and this dinner's over." He sneered.

Klaus Mikaelson always appeared vexatious, in one way or another. That was exactly how he appeared when he raised a lone finger to his lips, promising to remain quiet from that point onwards. Shaking my head, I reached out to take a refreshing, lasting sip of the blood-infused wine on the table. As expected, things were taking a turn, it was too early to predict if it was good or bad yet. In saying that, if Klaus was involved, it was more likely to be bad.

"You know what, probably best just to keep Elena in the do-not-discuss pile." Damon commented, to which we unanimously agreed upon.

Dusting down his suit, Elijah ironed out the invisible creases before attempting to progress onto a different topic. "Very well then. Miss Hatton, how have you spent your time without Kol?" He queried, a fond smile on his face.

Like a steady drum beat, my head began to pound and my eyes fogged over into glassy beads. I clutched my temples, pulling savagely at clumps of my hair as I tried to say something. I didn't know exactly what I wanted to say, I just felt something on the tip of my tongue. Tingling. Burning. Seething.

"Let's add that into the do-not-discuss pile as well shall we?" Klaus had interjected briskly. Too briskly.

Now, the real question—or rather the only question—plaguing my mind was: who even was Kol?

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A.N: I double updated? This is extremely rare, but I'm feeling really inspired and know the direction I'm heading with the book this time around.

Are you a new reader or old reader? If the latter, are you preferring the edited version is far?