It was an exceedingly rare occasion indeed for the fallen royal to call upon another individual in such a way, the only person whose companionship Anastasia made any effort to seek willingly having always been Alexander. A byproduct of the ties that bound them, she supposed, for she seemed destined to return to his side forevermore no matter the years and so very many miles that saw them apart from one another. He was, in a handful of ways, just as much her father as Nicholas had been during her mortal years... they were so very alike, these two men who held so much of her between them. Perhaps the greatest reason for the fierce love and adoration that she had eventually developed towards the elder Hunter in spite of herself.
But this day it is not for Alexander that she ventures out, nor is it for the little vampire girl she has hunted for seemingly endless decades... no, today does the Grand Duchess intend to call upon another. The young woman that Alexander had been so very insistent that she offer her time and... she was unsure what else. He would not speak of his reasoning and the vice of pride prohibited Anastasia from inquiring after it; she must discover his intentions solely by virtue of her own means. The aged Duchess generally would have balked at the notion of being lured into such a seemingly trivial investigation; however, the knowledge that Alexander desired some manner of relationship be cultivated between she and the youthful Were plucked coyly at her marionette strings. After all, her Maker did nothing without ample reason...
The auburn-haired Russian raps a gentle yet insistent tempo upon her intended guest's door, poised as ever she had been as she waits upon the girl's doorstep. The glistening sage pools of her eyes divert to Calliel's with the opening of the door, Anastasia conceding a pace to allow the girl access to the pristine black automobile that idles against the street's curb. "Shall we?"
Anastasia Romanova
Grand Duchess of Imperial Russia