Wife of Vladimir ||Book One||

Epilogue

After the funeral, Vladimir had searched for a burial spot for Rosetta. All the spots near the summer mansion weren't good enough for her. He wanted to find a spot that captured her beauty and enchantment. While it took many nights, he found a spot on the outskirts of Milan, Italy. When he laid his wife to her final rest, his eyes caught upon a section of secluded mountains that called to him. It was there that he realized they were meant to be.

He had planned on living in his family's summer home, but after seeing the mountains his mind began to change. The other home was still connected to his family name. They could be found again by Henry. His wrath would be unending if they couldn't hide.

He had found a place where no one would look, where no one would know who they were.

He planned on one day calling the mountains home.

For the next four years, Vladimir and his servants built their safe haven. They built it to be hidden behind mountains near a small village. It was nearly three times larger than their previous home, meant to be able to protect and house safely. Each room had access to any surrounding hallway and the walls were hollow. Secret passageways were created everywhere in the new mansion. He had thought of every possibility that would put his family at risk and created a solution for every option. Vladimir had Aurelian to thank for most of the situations. They thought of them all together and crafted the mansion to perfection.

That was another thing Vladimir was thankful for. Aurelian had decided to stick around once it was decided they would move to another location. There, they would plot to finally bring Henry to justice.

He and Aurelian often traveled back to Transylvania to go through the rubble of the old mansion. Each visit brought them more things that had survived. The most valuable were the journals that Trevor Dracula had left behind. Once they were all transported to their new home, Vladimir and his boys began to study the journals again. It was important that they all absorbed any information they could. There was no telling when they would need to fight again. They would need to be ready. They needed to know themselves better than the hunters.

As his children grew older, Vladimir prepared them for battle. He wanted them all to be spared of the pain he had felt. They trained multiple times a week with their father and Aurelian. They would always be able to defend themselves.

About a month after the family, and servants, had moved into the new mansion, Vladimir wandered the halls searching for his boys. They were all falling into new, lonesome habits that he wasn't sure how to fix.

Alistair was hidden behind multiple towers of books. He had taken to reading every moment he was awake, rather than have freetime that freed his mind to think of life.

Leo was trying to paint his room to match the star mural he and Rosetta had once painted, but failed at each mark. The tears that fell down his cheeks were a mix of grief and frustration.

Caelum, who had finally learned to read, was in his room practicing his new magic tricks. He was the only child that had been spared of the true brunt of pain when it came to the loss of Rosetta. He had been an infant at the time. His memory of her wasn't as strong as Alistair and Leo's.

Nonetheless, all the children hid behind their hobbies. When Vladimir asked it of them, they would come and spend time with him. If he never asked, they would stay in their respective rooms. The world was quieter without Rosetta in it.

He couldn't say he was upset. The only thing he truly cared about was that the boys never forgot her. He was thankful that he never gave the children an opportunity to forget anything about her.

Vladimir had created a mural dedicated in her memory in the front room. It greeted any visitor that stepped in the mansion. With the help of the servants, they had created a painting of Rosetta that filled up an entire space above the fireplace. In a way, it allowed everyone to believe that she was still with them all. Around the painting, they kept rose petals, her diary, and the journal that contained Vladimir's speech. A few of her things that had survived the fire rested on the mantle of the fireplace. It was small and simple, but it was touching to anyone who had known her in life.