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He had not been allowed in her bedroom for a month - she had not touched him in longer. They met in public and he was not even sure that she saw him - he did not seem to rate a hello. Things had gone so wrong from only two months back - so short a time? When she had invited him to live with her and he had assented, becoming her housepet or so it seemed. But wasn't she supposed to dote on him if so? No, her husband had returned. The Beast burned behind his eyes when he thought of the elder Brujah who she called husband - though their marriage was not yet official. Fiance was too French for her? She who had been born and raised in France? He fumed, risking animalistic frenzy, at the thought. It was not that he wanted her. He had always wanted her, and been resigned to never having her. It was more than that... it was that she had been taken away. More than he could bear, to be given what he had thought never to hold, to be told it was forever, to believe with perfect faith in that promise, and then... His jaw worked, his teeth lengthened, he breathed out in the cold air and it condensed like a live man's breath. Hot fury welled up in him, so hard to keep it down, so hard, why was he even trying... but he remembered. The Brujah, and revenge. He had found out his rival's dark secret, and it only awaited the proper time to reveal it, and he would bring Sevrin down, crashing down and not even she could defend him from the consequences.
He reviewed in his mind, licking his lips at the taste of the thoughts, what he'd unearthed. Some short years back, Sevrin had been blood bound by the woman who then held the title of Prince, a Brujah called Danielle. Out of jealousy, he'd murdered Danielle's lover and then faked evidence of suicide. Then when Danielle had discovered his perfidy, he'd murdered her as well, ascribing this to carelessness in her grief for her lover. Killing not only two powerful Kindred of the city, but a Prince - he felt sure Sevrin would be blood hunted for this. He made fists with both hands, shot out his claws, and licked the resulting blood off his palms and fingers, claws cutting into his tongue as well. It was a waste of vitae but he needed it to stay calm, he thought to himself as he sucked on his bloodied tongue.
Needless to say, it had not really helped. So he had brought Sevrin down. He had made Aucassin publicly unhappy, and embarrassed her to boot. She was no longer Prince now, and she was no longer around... her promotion to higher rank in the Tremere clan had simply taken her further from him. So long ago, and he still hated Sevrin as much as ever. Revenge was worthless, he knew that now. A lesson he'd learned and would never forget.