Evanya Myshelovna Tarasovich

Evanya Myshelovna Tarasovich

“Power doesn’t have to shout. Sometimes it simply listens — and is still obeyed.”

Evanya Tarasovich is the daughter of DI’s Patron, Myshelov Tarasovich, and a model remembered only for her beauty and brief, brilliant life. Where her brother Daniil embodies the family’s sharp ambition, Eve carries their father’s charm and her mother’s grace — a softer, steadier light that warms rather than burns. Beloved in every room she enters yet belonging entirely to none, Eve moves between art, politics, and society with quiet poise. Her power lies not in command, but in connection.

She is known for her understated elegance — soft fabrics in muted tones, delicate gold jewellery, and perfumes with notes of jasmine and smoke. Her fashion choices are timeless, blending nostalgia with modern refinement. Within Custody high society, she is often described as “the golden daughter” — a title both as affectionate as it is faintly mythic. Guests at her soirées note that she listens more than she speaks, yet her silences are often what people remember.

Early Life

Eve grew up observing rather than challenging, absorbing the subtleties of charm and diplomacy from her father while learning to move gracefully through a world wrought with moral ambiguity. Her mother died soon after her birth, leaving only whispers and photographs — a lineage of beauty tinged with tragedy. She never asked about her origins; she seemed to understand instinctively that silence was the family’s chosen language. Golden-haired among the dark-haired Tarasoviches, she nonetheless possesses the same disarming charisma — gentler, subtler, but unmistakably theirs.

Personality

Eve is thoughtful, empathetic, and unhurried in her judgements. She understands influence and persuasion but wields them with care rather than calculation. Like all Tarasoviches, she was born into a world where influence is both weapon and inheritance, but for her influence is not about control, it’s about resonance: leaving others subtly changed by having known her.

Her moral compass is not fixed but fluid, guided by empathy rather than principle. She accepts imperfection, in herself and others, and believes that kindness can coexist with cunning. To her, morality is not an absolute — it’s an art form, practiced with intention and grace. She is content not to change the world, only to make her corner of it kinder, more beautiful, and filled with people worth loving.

At her core, Eve is a curator of human connection. She collects moments the way others collect art: a conversation, a touch, a shared smile in a crowded room. Her relationships — whether fleeting or profound — are her truest masterpieces. Wherever she travels, she carries “home” within her — a constellation of people, places, and stories she cannot quite leave behind.

Passions & Education

From childhood, Eve was drawn to art, philosophy, and the enduring stories of civilisation. Under her Aunt Olena’s guidance she spent long hours in museums, learning to treat artefacts as living voices of the past. Her fascination with cultural heritage deepened through travel. She explored Moscow’s galleries, then those of Florence, Paris, and Vienna — absorbing the languages, histories, and rituals of every place she touched. For her, culture is not a relic but an ongoing dialogue — a way to understand people across time and distance. When she studies art, she studies people: their choices, contradictions, and quiet desires.

Society & Travels

As Myshelov Tarasovich’s daughter, Eve moved easily through the upper echelons of high society. Gallery openings, dinners with Patrons, and diplomatic gatherings were as much part of her education as her formal studies. Her presence across the Custody served as both social grace and subtle strategic asset to her father’s political mastery. Eve was aware of her father’s designs behind such invitations, seeking to shape her from the shadows as much as exert his own influence, but she bore them lightly. They weren’t burdens, but opportunities; she learned the dance, and mastered it.

At eighteen she left Moscow to study abroad, pursuing art and languages. Her return visits home became synonymous with elegant gatherings — soirées and dinners that balanced diplomacy with intimacy. Wherever she went, Eve was the quiet centre of gravity, turning any room into a constellation of conversation and light.

London & the Painting

During the Alistair Grey trial — a milestone in Daniil’s career — Eve was in London, moving between lectures and gallery openings while she waited for an opportunity to spend some time with her brother. There she found herself transfixed by a painting of a luminous woman who was surrounded by a halo-like glow.

The artist was not in attendance, but a stranger came to stand beside her, and told her the painting depicted “a surrender to true power, and a prescient vision of what was to come.”

The words struck her deeply, though she could not explain why. Gently feverish from the Sickness, she left the gallery changed. The painting, and the man, would haunt her memory for years.

Guillaume Volthström

Eve met Guillaume Volthström in Paris, at an avant-garde bar on a summer’s evening heavy with red wine and possibility. She recognised his name and reputation instantly — a libertine heir, charming and dangerous — but it was his contradictions that fascinated her. Their connection unfolded slowly over the next few months, built on conversation and curiosity. They travelled together through Tuscany, Switzerland, and London, exploring both art, the cities, and each other. He was the bon vivant; she was serene. Together they found a rhythm — delicate, intoxicating, inevitably doomed.

The Volthström family adored her; she even formed a rare bond with Guillaume’s reserved sister, and for a time it seemed she might become one of them. But the relationship ended suddenly. Some whispered Eve had fled the hint of a proposal; others blamed Guillaume’s wandering heart. Either way, Eve disappeared across the Atlantic soon after, leaving behind speculation and silence.

America

Eve’s self-imposed exile eventually brought her to Manhattan, seeking the space to breathe. There she immersed herself in the art scene and found a kindred spirit in Araminta Rosewood, a vibrant painter whose warmth mirrored her own. For nearly two years, Eve lived quietly — hosting salons, attending exhibitions, and savouring the anonymity of being far from Moscow’s shadow. But when her father’s summons came, she did not refuse. Whatever else she had become, she remained a Tarasovich, and Moscow still had a claim on her heart.

Now, as always, Eve is coming home.