Petra was happy to be home, and she trusted that Brandon would find a way to deal with Alaric, though she’d be lying if she said she didn’t want a hand in exacting some vengeance. The problem was that, as skilled as she was, she didn’t think she’d be able to stand up to him. Certainly, she’d never be able to withstand his Dominate if he decided to use that.
She took the following day off — the most work she did was to help Emilio out around the house since he wasn’t at full strength yet, though he insisted on making the preparations for Kida to move in himself. She was fine with this, though part of her wondered if things might seem more crowded, before reminding herself it was a goddamn penthouse, and was therefore unlikely. Most of her day was spent curled up with a book or watching movies. After school was when she began responding to texts from her friends asking if she was okay. She lied, telling them that she just hand’t been feeling well, but should be back soon. After, she caught up with them, and set up another gaming session, provided she was feeling well.
It was around dinner that she received a text on her business phone from an unknown number. Since it was an unknown, she didn’t bother to respond right away, figuring if it was important, they’d text or call. When they didn’t, she proceeded to eat the chicken marsala that Emilio had prepared, then helped him clean up, conveniently disappearing when Kida arrived. Closing herself off in her room for now, and still riding a bit of a high from the excess of Brandon’s blood the night before, she changed and headed to an area set aside for her to work out. She proceeded to do a little of that, and a little of dancing, before taking a shower and a soak in the jacuzzi before finally looking at the text shed’ received.
Is this Petra Mykanos? Was all it said. She frowned, unsure of whether to answer, when another message popped up. Are you there? It read.
I can put you in touch she typed. Who is this, and what do you need?
To meet in person, they replied I need to know it’s her
When and where? She responded.
8pm tonight, Venice Beach boardwalk – I’ll be over by the skate park. They said.
I’ll pass along the message she typed, then set the phone aside with a sigh. It would take some time to get there, and it would be about sunset when she arrived. Eyes closed, she mulled over in her head the possibilities of what this all was about, resolving to be careful this time. A few minutes later, and she was toweling off, making her way back to her room in order to change. Clothes that were easy to move and fight in, but that would help her blend in. So, she ended up deciding on a fairly 90’s style – a pair of Doc Martens, ripped jeans, and a tank top.
After getting dressed, she left word with Emilio about where she would be, then headed for the garage, opting for one of the cars with fake plates. The drive to Venice Beach was roughly half an hour, give or take for traffic. Upon arrival, the sun was beginning to set, though she took time to look at the passersby, wondering which was the one waiting for her. Eventually, she saw a few people that could be the one that contacted her, so she slid on a pair of sunglasses and stepped out of the car, taking a casual walk at an even pace, heading in a direction other than the skate park in order to approach from a direction that wouldn’t indicate where she had parked.
Climbing the steps to the outer portion of the park, she sat down on a concrete ring that circled a small group of palm trees, and waited, looking out over the landscape as the sun colored the sky with pinks and oranges. Before the sun was fully set, someone sat down next to her, though she didn’t immediately turn. Her body, however, was ready to spring into action if the situation called for it. She heard the person next to her typing, likely on their phone, and a moment later her phone vibrated. Reaching in to her pocket, she turned it off, then turned to face the stranger, moving away somewhat as she did so.
The stranger next to her was male – difficult to make out against the light of the setting sun. He appeared to be tall, with dark hair, and on the younger side, though his face was hidden behind sunglasses as well.
“Miss Mykanos?” he asked, his voice accented, but with a touch of anxiety.
“Depends on who’s asking. What do you want?” she said, careful to keep her tone neutral.
“Are you her or not?” he asked. His accent wavered when he spoke, indicating his nerves had shot up, or he was faking it.
“I don’t have all night.” she said, her tone very businesslike. “Get on with it.”
“Alright, alright.” The guy said, reaching into a bag, then handing her a thick manila envelope. “Tell me if this is you.”
Petra gave him the side-eye, but he didn’t see. Taking the envelope from him, she then opened it, pulling out its contents. Inside were photocopies of snippets from history books or pictures of paintings, sketches, and even photographs. Most of them depicted or described Brandon through the years, however there were some mentions of her as well. She froze slightly when she got into some printouts of security cam footage from a recent job she did, but said nothing.
One of the paintings, even, was something she knew had been commissioned of her from centuries back. When she revealed herself as a woman, Brandon had wanted it done, to remind her of who she was, and remember that she could the person she wanted to be. I really should thank him for that sometime she thought idly. Another was Brandon’s official portrait as King of Decadonia.
“What is this supposed to mean?” she asked, focusing hard on keeping her tone neutral, despite the alarm bells going off in her head. Sliding things back into the envelope and sealing it, she tossed it back at him.
“What does it mean? It could mean everything!” he hissed, his accent almost gone by this point, and sounding familiar.
“Talk.” she said. “And don’t waste my time.”
“No one has a family that looks this alike from generation to generation. Not a single one. And I have more than this! There’s video – what I have is of you – and you’re such a badass, like…like a real life Black Widow! How is it though that your boss and the King of Decadonia look exactly the same? Since the country’s inception even! And further back! Why do you keep popping up with him all the time? The only explanation I can think of is that you guys are some kind of immortal.” he said, accent disappearing in the excitable rant.
“Don’t be ridiculous.” she said. “This also doesn’t explain why you need Petra specifically.”
“Oh right, that.” he said, reaching for a tablet that was open to a family tree. “This – I’m related to her, somehow. On and on…this tree goes back hundreds of years, yet there’s only one mention of her, one text that I could find describing her.” he said, looking through, then pulling up an old silhouette that was part of a family portrait, as far as she could remember. “And see…all these other pics look like this…it has to be her. To be you.”
“All this has you convinced of this fact?” she said.
“Well….yeah. Can you honestly say that I’m wrong?” he asked.
“Go home, Jon. Forget about this. You’ll live longer that way.” she answered with a sigh.
“How – how did you know my name?” he asked; surprised.
She sighed, pulling down her shares momentarily. “Intelligent as you are, you can’t see what’s in front of you, you know that?” she pushed her glasses back up with a finger.
“Wait…you’re …but… how… I didn’t notice? I’ve been working on this for years though.” he said with a frown. “Oh…oh…oh! I should probably, like, bow or something right now, right?”
“What are you on about?” she said, an eyebrow raised.
“You’re a princess! I should treat you like that, right?” he asked.
“I am not. That’s absurd.” she said, annoyed.
“You’re the heir to the throne though!” he said.
“No, I am not.” she insisted.
“But it’s right here, on Wikipedia!” he said, quickly pulling up the page. She scanned it, and sighed. “I’m gonna mangle him.” she muttered, knowing that if Vince didn’t already know, he’d have a field day with it.
“Petra?”
“Yes?”
“Why is it dangerous for me to know?”
“There are rules, Jon. I want you to be safe.”
“But… I’m not.”
“What do you mean?” she asked.
“I’m not safe. I… I can’t talk about it.” he said.
“You can trust me, you know.” she offered.
“Not right now. Just… well… I have a guardian too, let’s say. But…not as old as you. Okay?” he said.
“Alright. I’ll take your word for it. Don’t tell anyone about Brandon or I though, got it?” she said, some sternness in her voice.
“Yeah… I got it. See you for gaming?” he asked.
“Yeah. WE can do it at my place again.” she said.
“Sure thing!” he said, sounding more like his old self.
“I’ll keep this.” she said, taking the envelope.
“Ok… later!” he said, jogging off, stopping in the distance to wave. She waited until he was out of sight, and then got up to head back to the car, and finally home. Never, in all her years, did she imagine a descendant of her family would be able to track her down…or even want to try. With all this on her mind, she headed home. Her first stop? Brandon’s office. She planned to just drip the envelope on his desk in front of him, and take it from there – provided he wasn’t busy, of course. There was the princess thing to take care of too, after all.