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The best part about today was that she had no pesky relatives to entertain: her parents were dead, night father, father figure, uncle, dead, most of her church family was burnt to a crisp when her church back home went up in flames after their attempted treason, and well, the rest of them, both motherâs and fatherâs sides, decided to keep their distance from the 'black sheep' of the family. While nothing was tied back to her, obviously because a good liar knows exactly how to cover their tracks, it hasnât stopped relatives from talking and spreading what they think happened. Damienâs way finally caught up to him when her daughter played a role in his demise. I mean, the rumors were right, but they didn't have any proof of that. The Laveauâs rarely chose to leave the safety of New Orleans (and saw her as bad juju) while Lamotteâs had a completely different reason to stay away. They were afraid of her; a girl willing to turn on her own father? A man seen as untouchable all throughout the South. She was something to fear and stay away from like the plague. Constance still thinks its because they have a few rats that slipped through the cracks. But, all the Lamotteâs were one way or another, the whole lot of them were just like her; opportunists, waiting to try and make their way to the top of the heap of the Lamotte family where Constance silently and somewhat secretly reigned.
But, despite what most thought, they didn't hate her. Quite the opposite, they respected her almost as much as they feared her, knowing that if she caught any whiff of weakness, she would eat them alive. Which was the closest thing to love one could ask for from a Lamotte. They sent her a few presents and congratulatory letters, that was all she needed. She didnât anyone taking the eyes off of her on her special day (yes, she knew it wasnât technically just her day but, in her mind, it was).
She had finally been woken up when the bottle hit the floor, opening her eyes and immediately sitting up in bed just to see Josie leave her in the solitude of their room. Constance kind of pitied her, she could hear her roommate stirring most of the night, probably buzzing with excitement like everyone else. She slipped her bonnet off to reveal her freshly done finger waves underneath before getting out of bed to start her routine. But, not without a long glance at herself in her mirror. She ran her slender fingers along her jaw, her white claw-like nails softly scratching her skin. Only snapping out of it, when Valentine slithered from under her pillow. With a small smile, she let her familiar make his way up her arm and around her neck before offering him a small peck.
Within an hour or so, Constance was completely done, sure she could have done everything magically, but she wanted to absorb every moment of this day and just savor it. Her makeup done slightly different to fit with the virginal look of her flawless white gown with her putting on the final touch; an inverted cross necklace that she âborrowedâ from her father before he was buried. He wore it to his Dark Baptism, as did his father, and his father before him, and she refused to let the selfish, traitorous bastard be buried with it. It fit right under the collar of her gown, out of sight. With a growing smile and a small tear slipping out, Constance let out a sigh. Tilted her head up as she twirled her gown and looked at herself from every angle. Unholy shit, if little Constance could see her future counterpart, she wouldnât believe in the woman she became. She was everything she dreamed sheâd be; powerful, beautiful, and destined for greatness. It was all starting tonight. Constance groaned as she noticed the tear and wiped it away quickly as if at any moment someone would come in and see her tearing up at herself.
pcolor=#863348]âCâmon, Val. Time to address the masses.â[/color] Val made his way back on his perch around his masterâs arm before the two left the room in search of interaction to make the time fly but, more than anyone; Luci. That impulsive drunkard had to be around here somewhere, she obviously didnât find her way into Constanceâs room last night after whatever mischief she had gotten into, whining to be held by Constance because she was a fiend for physical contact and it was doubtful she fell asleep in her own bed alone last night seeing that today was the big day both of them had been waiting for most of their lives. All Connie was hoping was that she didnât go too hard and dead in a ditch somewhere.
Ah, just the orphan she needed to see, Ivy Bishop. Alone without one of her numerous bodyguards. Perfect. âExcuse me, puppy.â Ivy sighed before turning around to face her tormentor who has a shit-eating smirk on her face. âHi, Constance. Happy Dark Baptism.â The towering woman faked a smile before it faltered, and the smirk returned. âHave you seen your roommate today?â Ivy shook her head. âNope, I've been at--..â Constance held up a hand. âI didnât ask for all that. Do you know where she might be?â Ivy took a deep breath, trying to keep the smile on her face as she shrugged her shoulders. Man, messing with the runt was fun, Constance could see the façade slipping away for a brief moment. âSheâs your other half, youâd know before me but no, I wouldnât. She didnât come to the room last night. Can you just make sure she's okay.â Ivy smiled brightly. Constance could never tell if it was real or if the little puppy was just being passive-aggressive. The witch shook her head. âAw, puppy, I'm not her keeper, she's fine.â Constance walked away without another word, of course, she was going to make sure she was okay, she knew she was fine, but Ivy didn't need to know that. Constance kept walking for anyone to help pass the time.