Elena

Elena was the definition of grace and beauty. Poets based their endless poems based off of her ethereal glance and mesmerizing smile. As she graced through the doors of Mavez Mansion, people swore flowers bloomed in the middle of winter for her. Each time Ophelia laid eyes on the great beauty, a part of herself quivered.

"Let's skip the pleasantries, Duchess," Elena mused with a slight smile as she seated herself amongst the salon, known for entertaining guests. 

"I hope the tea is to your liking, Princess," Ophelia stated, watching as Elena took an elegant sip from the priceless porcelain.

"A hint of sweetness to vampires… this tea must be high in iron," Elena nodded her head in appreciation. "Well done, you've improved."

This was Ophelia's house, yet a part of her knew Elena held some sort of control here. She left the tea untouched, for it was unsuited for a human like her. The metallic taste would've made her gag.