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View character profile for: Diana Montclaire
I won't let you take anything more from me
15th October - Montclaire Estate - Afternoon
Diana was in the study, seated in the plush chair behind the large desk that had so recently belonged to her father. She was still numb to it all; the sudden departure of her brother Nate, the death of her father at the hands of the Regent. The Ex-regent, Diana reminded herself; The Red Crew deposed that wretched woman and got her father killed all on the same night. She tried closing her heart to all of it for fear that her true feelings would overwhelm her. In such a short span of time she’d lost so much; her own girlhood and innocence with burning questions for those who had taken it. What had they done to her and why?
Her twin Serenity, believed lost to the Delve with no means of contacting her. Diana had to swallow the lump in her throat that warned of more despair to follow if her thoughts lingered on her sister.
Her father, Benjamin Montclaire, dead and murdered at the hands of the bitch of a woman Ines Valkarian. Diana let out a streak of low curses and Major Boogie looked up from his spot near her chair. He let out his own deep growl to support his human’s sentiments.
Her older brother and last relative accessible to her, gone now with his new love to seek out a treatment for the infectious wounds she’d received at the claws of that monster let loose into the crowd by Barnaby Rust. The note regarding her brother’s journey was all she had to go on, but it was concise and to the point. Tate was gone to the Delve with Emily to seek treatment. He would do everything he could to track down Serenity and return to Diana as soon as possible; all of them safe and sound. He also left instructions that she was to do her best to maintain the family affairs in his absence, but she couldn’t see what affairs there were left to manage. Everything was going to shit out there. Was he referring to the business? Was he worried about the money?
But slowly the beginning of a plan frosted over the edges of her thoughts. A concept more than a plan, but it gave her a direction, something productive to do. It may all be for nothing or it may get her killed, but she knew she’d committed to it before she even moved her chair back from the desk. She was only sixteen and the running of the family’s businesses; Montclaire Land Holdings (MLH) and Montclaire Building Company (MBC) would probably not be left in her hands at such a young age. What she needed was for others to view her as a capable adult or if she must be a ward, at least assign to her a suitable guardian, one who she could handle and manage.
And everyone born to Highholm knew that the onset of any sport or activity required the proper clothing; new clothing. Once again Diana would shift her wardrobe in hopes of coming across just that much older. It wouldn’t hurt her to put aside the clothes of a teenager and those fuckers who’d held her and many other captive had done a fine job of making her body into that of a woman. Maybe she could put that to her advantage.
Diana pulled a thickly woven cord that hung from the ceiling of the study and a series of bells chimed through the house. “Nanny Nit,” she called out in a clear voice, “summon the tailors and clothiers. We have much work to do and you have a promotion to accept.”