Raven had sensed right from the beginning that Valery would be a thorn in his side; he had just known it on some deep, dark level of his subconscious. For twenty years everything had been going smoothly and according to his plans. His father hadn't so much as stirred in two decades and then she had to show up. There was no proof that it was specifically her presence that had actually caused his father to awaken, but it was certainly a might suspicious coincidence if she wasn't the direct cause.
From the moment that his father had him summon the vampire his temper had begun to bubble and simmer. The anger and rage was like a dark, writhing mass pulsating within the core of his being. Each sinister pulse made it grow until he was consumed entirely by those emotions. Just having her in the temple was enough to cause this response within him. When his father came to him and the High Priest to inform them that he had taken Valery as a Bride his dark emotions had been eating at him for hours already.
The only reaction he could even summon was an explosion of fury. While Azrael slept Raven had taken hold of the entirety of running the temple and everyone in it, having his father return to jerk the leadership away from him had riled him enough, but this was more than he could take. Arguing heatedly with his father was not something he would normally do. Subterfuge and deception were his preferred method of rebellion, but those were thrown out of window for now. Their words were so large and heated that the very walls shook with their ferocity.
Of course there was nothing to be done about it, and once he had vented and made clear his displeasure with the decision, all the Lord Prophet could do was respectfully bow out of the fight. Once rid of his father all there was to be done was finish preparations for the celebrations. What a waste of time and resources. Raven wasn't so naïve as to not understand why they did this, but it didn't make him hate it any less. Still, he kept his well-practiced mask of the ever concerned leader as he directed the cultists in their duties.
As time drew near for the party to actually begin Raven made his way out onto the dais in front of the temple. His throne was there, waiting for him. It wasn't nearly as regal as the ones set up for his father and the new Bride, but he averted his eyes from the great thrones and settled into his, looking down at the bustling cultists with boredom as they finished setting up.
It wasn't until his father and the Bitch showed up that his feelings of anger and annoyance returned. Unlike everyone else, he did not seem happy or enthused and though he was expected to stand until they sat, he did not budge from his seat, nor did he so much as glance their way after taking note that they had arrived. His father was not going to force him to show that harlot respect. Such a pathetic creature did not deserve such high station. Perhaps he should have killed her after all. It would have been so simple if he had simply offered her up as a sacrifice. Too late for that, his father would never allow him to harm the woman now.
A rather shady figure approached his throne after a rather short time, and no one stopped or even really noticed Kharn. Where Raven was, the cultist was often not far. It pleased him to see that his little lamb was not so taken with his father as all the other mindless sheep. A smirked touched his cold eyes as the man whispered in his ear, then retreated without waiting for answer. Standing he disappeared in a soft swirl of shadow.
Reappearing in a dim room, the Lord Prophet of Ash waited patiently for his loyal servant to find him at their rendezvous location.