This is odd. I barely get home and already I have a message from Jean, asking me to meet him some time soon. Says we need to talk. Says he’s worried.

Anyway. I went to see Karsten. Which was all nice and fun, if odd. Gracht is a ghoul, I’m kindred. Yet the man is probably ten times my age. Very scary. As for Karsten – I asked him which name out of the Nine he would give, if the Camarilla asked him. Gracht read the edict out loud to him. Of course he was all whiney about what would happen to him now. The name he put forth was Phelan. He kept going on and on about how he could talk the others into sacrificing Phelan instead of him. Yeah, right. I guess that’s a delusion worthy of a Malkavian. Sure as hell suits me to have him staked in that cellar. I for one am not close to letting him go. If the Camarilla actually executes him they’re doing us a fucking favour.

Baumgartner was involuntary comical relief when the night started out. He seemed all good spirited when we got there. The moment he looked at Jean that faded. Real quick. Which, again, was all fun to me.

At least he’s not as annoying as von Stein. Not once that evening he managed to adress me properly. Also he has some strange ideas on why someone turns out to be a lord. He tries to come off as smart. Then again, if he were he wouldn’t even bother showing up again. Can’t be that smart then. He asked for special permission to look into Esther’s background. No, not you, sir.

Harkon… If he keeps his attitude the way he does right now I will soon have to start acting against him. I know he saw me. And he didn’t approach. Though he should have. Yeah, of course he says he would have. But I don’t buy it. And the generous offer to pick a Gangrel bodyguard for the senate? A badly veiled ploy to have his child as his private little spy on us. Over my very dead body, furball. Don’t try playing my game. I’ll beat you every single time.

As for his child? The woman is barely a shadow of his. No character of her own. No idea about oratory art. Though I might have pissed her off with that a little too much. Not that I care about that right now.

The good news of the night was what von Lützow had to tell us. According to him von Weischenberg will be supporting us in our endeavour to maintain this domain for our prince. I’m very glad that she does. Which means that the only elder who will potentially reach for the throne is von Freienfels. Nobody can stand him anyway. And I’m pretty sure I can fool him into abandoning that particular desire of his.

Again I had no opportunity to talk to Raphael. A damn shame. I should tell him that he shouldn’t waltz around the domain room and blabber about every other detail that has been entrusted to him. However, I prefer to do that face to face. People tend to react much better to that.

Last night we announced that Esther used to be Sabbat and that she is going to stay here in Marburg. We told them that nobody is to know about this outside of this domain. Which is a huge pile of crap, because people will know. If they tell we can still hurt them. Grand. Also we gave a public sign that she is taken care of. We had her drink my blood. Twice now. To her it seems to be an honor. Even though to most of us it is a punishment. Also she asked that the blood be blessed before she can consume it. Eventually she obeyed though. I know Jean hated the whole procedure. But we had to do something. And it’s better than giving her blood to House and Clan.

When we arrived Rottenmeier was sitting next to the throne, asking whether it was just a chair or a symbol. That woman has a knack for straining people. At least she knows when to stop, which is more than can be said about most other people around here. Later on she told me a little story about how Styx broke her spine once. There are forms of pain that I don’t want to imagine. Ouch.

We had every intention of punishing Petricz some time soon. Only to be confronted with Shepherd taking part of the blame for her. Now we’ll have to punish both of them. After the Camarilla asked for the name. That part was Jean’s decision. I don’t like it all that much, but I’m not going to question his judgement in front of other kindred. That would only weaken his position – and mine as well. I have no idea what is in all of this for Shepherd. Like it or not, I guess I’ll find out some time soon.

For a moment or two I had a short chance to talk to Mascha. She plays people just as bad as Jason does. It’s strange to see how she, of all people, can hold that against him then. But it’s none of my concern. Anyway. She said the public opinion is that the senate does whatever the hell I wish we do. Flattering. I’m not quite sure whether she was trying to flatter me or actually meant it. What worried me more is what she had to say about Thomas. According to her most people think that Jean and I are trying to take Thomas down. Which is not true. We still try to support him, no matter how much he annoyes me. I guess I can be read too easily. Which means that my annoyance with him is what is destroying him. But I can’t just shut that down. I honestly wish I could. And I think I should be able to do more for a friend. Only… I lack the strength. His stubborn behaviour drains all the strength out of me and leaves me too weak to protect him. Part of me feels bad over this. The other part is yelling at the top of my lungs to let him burn.

It happened again last night. I was still confused about Shepherd and Petricz. The three of us were discussing why I kept having this strange feeling about the whole matter. And what’s it Thomas says? “Maybe you’re simply annoyed because it wasn’t your idea.” Screw you, rat! None of this is about my pride. I’ve been trying to do right by this domain the whole time. And my pride does suffer from it, whether you ignorant fool notice it or not. What kind of a friend brings that forth as his first idea? I think he doesn’t really know me at all…

Somehow I have worried Jean. A joke in itself, because I keep worrying about him. He’s still tired. Still doesn’t like what’s going on, no more than he did when the prince left. And no matter what I do, I can never draw him out of his little den of depression for very long. Now he writes to me, saying that he’s worried about my condition. That something is wrong with me. That he noticed. I have no idea what he’s talking about, so I’ll see him soon. I need to find out. Take away some of his sorrows. Maybe I should remind him of his promise. Maybe that would serve the purpose and bring him back amongst the living.

When I was about to leave I ran into Jason. I’ll have to tell him about what Mascha said about Thomas. Have to tell him about Karsten. Have to stay in touch. He accompanied downstairs to my car. Either because he is too dutiful to let a senator go on his own. Or because he was worried. Much to my surprise he’s still here. Still staying strong. Sounds to me as if the cub is finally growing into a lion. Lo and behold when he finds his full strength. I’m looking forward to the end of this transformation.

Die Wange brannte noch immer. Halb ungläubig über den eigentlichen Schmerz, halb darüber, dass Dee tatsächlich eine Ohrfeige ausgeteilt hatte, rieb sich Nathaniel die Wange.
“I love him, prick!”, schrie sie ihm entgegen. “Can’t you reign in your jealousy and pride just for once?!”
Die Tatsache von irgendjemandem eine Ohrfeige erhalten zu haben irritierte ihn zu sehr um im Moment zu sprechen.
“Do you even know that feeling? Love? Affection for someone who isn’t you? Wanting to spend time with them without trying to figure out what’s in it for you?”
Für einen Moment sah sie so aus, als würde sie eine zweite Schelle nachsetzen. Nathaniel zuckte instinktiv zurück als sie die Hand kurz bewegte. Eine eher unbewusste Geste ihrerseits, die eigentlich nur das Gesagte unterstreichen sollte.
Sie mochte Mathis. Das war Nathaniel klar gewesen nachdem er den beiden länger als zwei Minuten zugehört hatte. Lieben? Ja, vielleicht. Er war nicht dumm genug sich anzumaßen das beurteilen zu können. Aber bereits mögen war Grund genug gewesen ihr nicht alles über den Mann zu sagen, den sie sich für ihre Kurzweil ausgesucht hatte. Warum auch? Normalerweise wären sie hier in drei Wochen wieder weg.
Nur schien sich Dee diesmal in den Kopf gesetzt zu haben es mit diesem Mathis ernst zu meinen. Und er hatte zu spät erkannt, dass er sie aufhalten musste. Weil sie sich sonst auf genau die Art Mann einlassen würde, die früher oder später immer die Hand gegen die eigene Frau erhob. Natürlich war das nur ein Unfall. Nicht gewollt. Ein Opfer der Umstände. Die Erklärung würde für das erste halbe Dutzend sicher herhalten können. Und dann? Dann war von Dee bereits nicht mehr genug übrig um sich wirklich gegen ihn zu wehren.
Und er, Nathaniel, das Genie – hatte den richtigen Zeitpunkt verpasst. Er hatte sie im Stich gelassen. Nicht rechtzeitig gewarnt. Und jetzt, da er damit anfing, jetzt verteidigte sie ihre Position. Zur Hölle, er hätte an ihrer Stelle wahrscheinlich genau das gleiche getan.
“This isn’t about jealousy or pride.”, antwortete er endlich dumpf.
Dee funkelte ihn an. “I never want to see you again, Nate.”