Adjusting to 15th-century England was, in Serona's words, "like falling face-first into a history textbook, but everyone's attractive and misogyny has a British accent."
She had been banished-politely, mind you-to the countryside estate of Lord Ashbourne, a nobleman with a soft spot for exiled girls with sharp tongues and confused eyes. She didn't ask why he let her stay. Frankly, she was too busy pretending not to be having an identity crisis.
Her personality-sunny with a 70% chance of sarcasm-was a strange fit for the stiff, corseted halls of English nobility, but somehow... she made it work.
She giggled at inappropriate moments. Asked where the Wi-Fi was. Gave sassy nicknames to noblewomen who judged her for breathing too confidently.
When the Duke of Fairmoore tried to mansplain how a lady should sip her tea, she smiled sweetly and said, "Oh, thank you! I was wondering how I've managed not to drown in it all these years."
When Lord Halbridge muttered, "It is not proper for women to walk alone," she raised a brow. "You're absolutely right. I forgot that walking is a male-only sport. What would I do without your wisdom, Sir Testosterone?"
Some called her strange. Some called her scandalous. Trevor called her captivating.
Ah, Trevor.
A nobleman with a jawline sharp enough to slice cheese and persistence that would put modern simps to shame. He was charming, elegant, and thoroughly enchanted by her refusal to bat her lashes on command.
"May I accompany you on your walk, Lady Katrina?" he asked one morning with a soft smile.
"You may," she replied, "but only if you promise not to talk about your horse for the next hour."
"I was going to speak of your eyes."
"Disgusting. Fine. Horse it is."
He laughed. She smirked. And thus began Trevor's campaign to win her heart-or at least her time.
But here was the kicker.
Serona-now living as Katrina Petrova-had never seen The Vampire Diaries.
To her, Trevor was just some oddly hot side character in her Jane Austen delusion.
She had no idea he was a vampire.
And she definitely didn't know that he was lowkey planning her delivery like a fragile Amazon package to a certain Original vampire.
Which led to the fateful night of the Founder's Ball.
"You must come," Trevor insisted. "It's a gathering of importance-nobles, royals, founders... you would dazzle them all."
She sighed, swirling her tea dramatically. "Ugh, fine. But if someone tries to propose marriage again, I'm throwing a dinner roll at their face."
She wore a crimson gown that made the maids swoon and her reflection look like sin incarnate. She arrived at the party on Trevor's arm, not realizing she had just walked into a carefully laid trap.
The chandeliers sparkled. The violins hummed. The men wore masks, and so did the monsters.
She saw him across the room first-tall, dignified, with eyes that seemed to pierce right through her witty armor. And then another man beside him, calm and composed, radiating danger with a smile.
Trevor leaned in. "Come. I must introduce you to the Mikaelsons."
"Mickel-what?"
"Lord Elijah and... Klaus," he said, almost reverently.
She sipped her wine and chuckled, "Klaus sounds like a cranky cat's name."
Trevor's face froze.
She missed the warning signs.
Because Serona was living happily.
Or, more accurately-in denial so deep she could decorate it and call it a vacation home.
Klaus' lips twitched at her earlier comment, but he managed to maintain his noble, practiced smile. Elijah, on the other hand, looked like he'd just seen a ghost he was fond of-utterly fascinated and nostalgic, as though she reminded him of someone terribly precious.
Great. Love that for me. Two historical supermodels staring at me like I'm a dessert special.
They were still a few steps away when Serona-now Katrina, technically-slapped on the brightest fake smile she had perfected through years of pretending everything was fine when it absolutely was not.
"Katrina, this is Lord Elijah and Lord Niklaus," Trevor introduced politely.
Serona bowed her head gracefully, trying to channel the elegant background characters in historical dramas. The historical novels she read was not so useless after all.
"It is an honor, my Lords," she said with a perfectly courteous tone.
Why couldn't I have landed in a show I actually watched? Why didn't I read spoilers before dying?? This is the worst customer service I've ever experienced from fate.
Elijah stepped forward first, taking her hand gently but reverently.
"The honor is ours," he said, voice smooth like velvet wrapped around a dagger. "You possess a striking resemblance to someone once dear to us."
"Well-thank you," she replied, resisting the urge to yank her hand back and hide behind a curtain. Amazing. I'm not even myself and I'm still being compared to someone else. Peak reincarnation experience.
Klaus followed with a charming bow of his head, eyes glittering like a predator in silk gloves.
"Niklaus is the name my father gave me, Please call me Klaus" he murmured kissing her knuckles softly.
"Where have you come from Katrina?" Klaus asked.
"Katrina is from Bulgaria." Elijah answered for her.
"Ztrave Katrina." He showed off, And Serona laughed at that, glad the subtitles were still intact in her brain. Which was weird but cool at the same time.
"Might I borrow Lady Katrina for just a moment brother? There are matters I wish to discuss... privately." Klaus said making a brief eye contact with his brother which was unnoticed by Serona who was lost in her own ridiculous predicament.
"Not at all brother, happy birthday." Elijah said.
Oh no. Private? With him?
"That would be most-uh-unnecessary," she tried to decline politely. "Surely such matters can wait or be spoken openly?"
The corner of his mouth curled-not offended, but intrigued. Dangerous.
"I assure you, my lady, it is of utmost importance," Klaus insisted, offering his arm with flawless gentlemanly grace. "I give you my word, you are entirely safe with me."
Yeah, that's exactly what every murderer says.
Trapped by etiquette, she delicately placed her hand on his arm. Elijah watched, amused, as if Klaus had just chased a butterfly with far too much enthusiasm.
Klaus guided her a little further into the garden, his tone lowering to something conspiratorial.
"You are far more elusive than I anticipated," he said with a playful glint. "Most young ladies in court are eager to speak with me." Of course that was pretty obvious to her, how can she not notice how captivatingly attractive he was (don't get her started on those dimples) but Serona had learned to look pass the pretty faces.
You never know what monster lies beneath it.
"Well," she answered lightly, "I suppose I do not wish to fall into predictable patterns."
Translation: I'm terrified and trying not to show it, please release me before I spontaneously combust.
He chuckled softly, eyes on her like she was a puzzle he very much wanted to take apart.
"A refreshing truth... You have spirit. And mystery." His gaze lingered. "I must admit, I find myself wanting to uncover every part of it."
Ew. Nope. Abort mission. He's flirting. What does the manual say for noble flirting? Does kneecap-slicing count as self-defense?
She attempted a polite laugh, stepping subtly away.
"You flatter me too much, my Lord. I assure you, I am quite ordinary."
Wrong words. Deadly wrong words.
Klaus leaned just slightly closer, voice deepening.
"I disagree. You are anything but ordinary."
Fuuuuuuuuuck.
She forced another formal smile because panicking wasn't very ladylike - apparently.
"Well... if you say so."
"Indeed, I do." He offered another courtly bow. "I look forward to knowing you better. Much better."
He is either my future admirer, stalker... or murderer. Maybe all three? I did NOT sign up for this DLC.
As he escorted her back to the others, Elijah greeted her with a knowing smirk - like someone watching a cat get willingly adopted by a wolf.
And Serona's inner monologue was nothing short of a meltdown:
Okay. Step one: Don't die. Step two: Follow step one. Step three: Prevent being seduced and/or executed by hot medieval men.
She smiled prettily, heart absolutely chaotic.
She was so, so fucked.