Vivienne had done her best to find something suitable for her new charge to wear, but the endeavor was proving more frustrating than she’d anticipated. Most of the servants were, at the very least, unsettled by Renzia’s presence, which made any interaction slow and awkward. After a string of half-hearted refusals and polite excuses, Rava had taken it upon herself to search for apparel elsewhere, leaving Vivienne and Renzia alone in her quarters.
The mannequin stood near the window, her frame unnaturally still as she gazed out at the gardens below. The scene beyond was serene, a stark contrast to the strange tension that lingered in the room. Vivienne leaned back in her chair, one leg crossed over the other, her fingers tapping an irregular rhythm against the armrest as she kept an eye on her charge.
Her thoughts wandered, but not in a comforting way. The hunger was starting to gnaw at her, a familiar yet unwelcome ache that coiled in the pit of her being. The fight with the Nexus Arbiter had left her drained—running on fumes, or whatever her equivalent was. Her patience was wearing thin.
When a knock came at the door, Vivienne perked up, a mischievous glint flashing in her eyes. Finally, something to break the monotony. And if it meant scaring whoever was unfortunate enough to knock, all the better.
She swung the door open with perhaps a bit too much enthusiasm, her smile sharp enough to unsettle a stone. Standing on the other side was Narek, looking significantly less disheveled than the last time she’d seen him. He clutched a few rolls of parchment in his hands, his expression shifting briefly to unease as her gaze settled on him.
“Rava’s out right now,” Vivienne said, her smile not quite softening as intended. Judging by the way Narek stiffened, it hadn’t come across as particularly friendly.
Not that it mattered. She caught a faint wisp of fear aether drifting her way, and she nipped at it, the taste bright and fleeting, like the first drop of rain in a drought.
“I’m actually looking for you,” Narek said, his voice steady but guarded. The admission caught Vivienne off guard, though she masked her surprise with a playful tilt of her head.
“Oh?” she replied, her clawed hand rising to rest against her cheek. “What could little ol’ me possibly do for you?”
Narek sighed, his composure faltering for just a moment. “I have an issue, and your… unique talents might be more useful than the few guards I can spare to assign to it.”
Vivienne arched an eyebrow, intrigued despite herself. “Go on,” she said, stepping aside to let him in.
That sounds like a fantastic setup for intrigue and character development! Here's a continuation:
Narek stepped into the room, glancing uneasily at Renzia, who remained motionless by the window. His voice was low as he began. “This isn’t something I’d normally bring to you, but I believe your particular talents might help uncover the truth.”
Vivienne crossed her arms, her smirk fading into a serious expression. “You’ve got my attention. What’s the issue?”
He hesitated for a moment, then continued. “There’s reason to believe that Lady Ravanyr’s capture wasn’t just a matter of bad timing. Someone—possibly from one of the Serkoth protectorate families—may have passed along information about her movements to Kaelen’s network of informants.”
Vivienne’s eyes narrowed, her posture shifting. “A mole? In your own lands? That’s quite the accusation.”
Narek sighed, rubbing his temple. “It’s more than just suspicion. Rava’s departure was sudden, yes, but it was also under strict confidence. Only a handful of people knew. And yet, Kaelen’s forces knew exactly where to strike. It doesn’t add up.”
“And you want me to root out the leak,” Vivienne said, her voice thoughtful. “Why me? Surely you have your own spies.”
“This requires... discretion. Our own people are too closely tied to the families—too many eyes, too many loyalties. You, on the other hand, are an outsider, but as far as has been demonstrated, you seem loyal to Ravanyr at least. Also, your methods are... unconventional.” He glanced at Renzia again, visibly uneasy. “And effective.”
Vivienne chuckled dryly. “Flattery will get you everywhere, darling. But you’re asking me to poke around in Serkoth’s inner circles. I imagine Rava might have a thing or two to say about that.”
Narek’s jaw tightened. “Rava trusts you, whether she admits it outright or not. And if this mole exists, they’re a danger to her and to the clan. We can’t afford to let this go unanswered.”
Vivienne tapped a clawed finger against her cheek, considering. “All right. I’ll take a look. But if I’m doing this, I need full access. No half-truths, no stonewalling.”
“Fine,” Narek said. “Start with the recent reports we’ve intercepted. They suggest someone from the Veiss family—one of the more prominent bloodlines—may have ties to Kaelen’s network. But tread carefully. If the leak senses we’re onto them, they’ll vanish.”
“Veiss family,” Vivienne murmured, filing the name away. “Got it. And don’t worry, I’ll be the soul of subtlety.”
She turned to Renzia, who had been silently watching them with her unblinking gaze. “Looks like you’re coming with me, sweetheart. Time to see how well you handle sneaking around.”
Renzia tilted her head, I will follow, Mistress, she wrote on her slate, her stiff, deliberate handwriting contrasting with the fluid elegance of her movements.
Vivienne smirked at the mannequin before turning her attention back to Narek. “Also, I should make one thing very clear—I’m not doing this for free.”
Narek blinked, his brow furrowing as if the words had physically struck him. “Pardon?”
“No need to look so scandalized,” Vivienne said with a dismissive wave of her hand. “I’m not asking for the clan treasury or anything. Just enough for the essentials—custom clothes for my dear Renzia here, the occasional indulgence like a meal for a friend, maybe a few other odds and ends. You know, basic operational costs.”
Narek’s frown deepened. “This isn’t a mercenary arrangement, Vivienne.”
“No,” she replied, leaning casually against the doorframe, her smirk widening. “But it’s also not charity. You came to me because I can do what your people can’t—or won’t. If you want results, you invest in them. Simple as that.”
He hesitated, weighing her words, then exhaled sharply. “Fine. I’ll allocate a discretionary fund for your... ‘expenses.’ Within reason.”
“Within reason,” Vivienne echoed, her tone teasing. “Don’t worry, darling. I’m not planning to bankrupt you. I’m far more useful than expensive.”
Renzia’s slate appeared again, Custom clothes? she wrote, her head tilting slightly further.
“Of course,” Vivienne replied without missing a beat, glancing at Renzia. “You can’t go around looking like something dragged out of a haunted attic. First impressions matter, and we’re about to mingle with some very uptight, well-dressed people.”
Narek shook his head, muttering something under his breath about eccentric allies, but he gestured toward the door. “The reports are in my office. You can review them there. I’ll arrange for your... operational needs.”
Vivienne gave a mock bow. “A pleasure doing business with you.”
As Narek exited, leaving them alone in the room, Vivienne turned to Renzia, her lips curling into a conspiratorial grin. “Looks like we’re going shopping later. But first, let’s find out which lovely aristocrat thinks they can play both sides.”
Renzia, ever composed, raised her slate and began writing. When she turned it around, the neat letters read, Do we eliminate them?
Vivienne tilted her head, the playful glint in her eyes fading as the weight of the question settled in. “Have you been made to kill before?” she asked carefully, her tone softer now.
Renzia’s movements were slow and deliberate as she wrote her reply. Sometimes past-mistress made me make people not breathe anymore.
Vivienne’s brow furrowed deeply, her earlier smirk replaced with an expression of uneasy concern. She reached out, gently placing a clawed hand on Renzia’s shoulder. “That must have been... difficult.”
The mannequin’s head tilted slightly, the motion almost childlike in its curiosity. I do not know. I did not feel then. I only obeyed.
Vivienne’s grip on Renzia’s shoulder tightened slightly, more for her own reassurance than anything else. “Well, let me make one thing clear: you’re with me now, and we’re going to do things differently. I’ll decide how we handle this, and I’ll make sure it’s done the right way. Understood?”
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Renzia wrote on her slate again, her neat script appearing quickly. I will follow, Mistress.
Vivienne sighed, releasing her grip and leaning back. “We’re going to have to work on that ‘Mistress’ thing, but for now, let’s keep moving.”
Vivienne motioned for Renzia to follow, her footsteps echoing lightly in the stone corridor as they made their way toward Narek's office. Her mind churned as she pieced together the implications of a mole within Serkoth lands. If someone had betrayed Rava, their treachery likely went deeper than a single act. Feeding information to the Aegis Sovereignty was no small matter—it endangered not just Rava, but the balance of power in the entire region.
Renzia followed silently, her wooden joints moving with a mix of fluidity and the faint creak of age. She seemed unperturbed by the tension in Vivienne’s stride, though her head occasionally tilted toward the tall windows lining the hall, her blank face catching faint slivers of light.
By the time they reached the main hall outside Narek's office, the lekine scholar had already arranged a collection of parchments, maps, and sealed letters across a long wooden table. He looked up as they entered, clearly anticipating their arrival.
“Find anything interesting yet?” Vivienne asked, her tone breezy, though her sharp eyes flitted across the cluttered table, taking in the markings and notes.
“These,” Narek began, gesturing to the documents, “are reports of unusual movements and intercepted messages. We suspect the leak comes from one of the lesser families. Likely someone struggling financially—a prime target for the Aegis Sovereignty’s manipulation. Their agents thrive on exploiting desperation.”
Vivienne stepped closer, picking up one of the worn parchments and holding it at arm’s length like a critic examining a dubious painting. She squinted at the text, written in an elegant but indecipherable script. “I see,” she said, nodding as she placed it back on the table.
“If there’s a mole within Serkoth lands, particularly within a family like the Kelyths, we need proof. Acting without it could destabilize more than just this region.”
Vivienne stepped closer to the table, glancing at the maps and documents laid out before her. “Right. So where do we start? Send someone to snoop around? Maybe crack a few heads?”
Narek sighed. “No. Subtlety is required. This isn’t a battlefield where brute force or intimidation will suffice. We need to uncover hard evidence—letters, intercepted messages, anything that ties them to the Aegis Sovereignty.”
Vivienne smirked. “Subtlety? You do realize who you’re talking to, right?”
“I do,” he said, his tone pointed. “And that’s why I’m asking you to try.”
Renzia, standing silently at Vivienne’s side, raised her slate and began writing. When she held it up, the words read: What if they discover us? Do we make them stop breathing?
Vivienne let out a small laugh, shaking her head. “No, Renzia. We’re not in the business of murder. Not today, anyway.” She ruffled the mannequin’s wooden hair gently. “We’re just going to snoop around and see what we can find. Think of it as... a game.”
Renzia tilted her head, her crimson hair catching the light. I will follow, Mistress.
Vivienne grinned, though it held a sharper edge. “Good. Let’s see how much trouble we can get into without breaking anything. Yet.”
Narek watched the exchange, his expression thoughtful but wary. “Be careful. If the Kelyths are indeed feeding information to the Sovereignty, they’ll likely be expecting retaliation. Don’t underestimate them.”
Vivienne gave him a mock salute. “Don’t worry, boss. I’ll play nice. For now.”
“I’m sure.” Narek said, his voice laced with skepticism as he eyed Vivienne. He opened a drawer in his desk and pulled out a small sack of coin. “This should do for your… operation costs, and a little bonus, as promised.”
Vivienne’s lips curled into a faint smile as she grabbed the pouch, weighing it in her hand. She could already tell it was more than enough to cover her needs for the task at hand, and then some. The hunger gnawing at her would have to be sated with a little more finesse later. “I have so much to learn,” she said with a mock sigh, flicking the sack of coins with her fingers. “Speaking of which, tell me what you can about the first target.”
Narek sighed, running a hand through his hair, clearly torn between frustration and resignation. He gestured to the papers on his desk, scattered and open to pages Vivienne couldn’t decipher. “The first target is a lower-tier member of the Kelyth family, a financier named Lysandro Kelyth. His accounts don’t add up, and he’s been known to frequent Aegis-affiliated establishments. He’s not in the inner circle, but he has connections. We suspect he’s been funneling information to Aegis, helping them gain leverage over us.”
Vivienne raised an eyebrow, her lips curling into a calculating smile. “Sounds like the type to hide behind a wall of money and influence. Any weak spots I should know about?”
Narek leaned back in his chair, tapping his fingers on the edge of the desk. “Lysandro is a coward at heart. He’s terrified of being exposed, which makes him predictable. He’s also prone to… excess. He frequents the underground clubs in Serkoth’s capital, where they indulge in gambling and illicit dealings. It's the perfect place to manipulate him.”
Vivienne’s eyes narrowed with interest. “Underground clubs, huh?” She glanced at Renzia, her mind already turning over the possibilities. “Sounds like just the sort of place to find something interesting... and useful.”
Narek looked at her with a mixture of caution and curiosity. “Are you sure you’re ready for that? The people you’ll be dealing with there won’t hesitate to make things ugly.”
Vivienne shrugged, the faintest hint of a smirk on her lips. “Ugly? I’ve seen ugly.” She glanced at Renzia, whose eerie stillness was oddly reassuring in this moment. “I’m sure I’ll fit right in.”
Narek studied her for a moment, then nodded reluctantly. “Just don’t underestimate the danger. Lysandro is dangerous in his own way. If Aegis is involved, there’s more at play here than you might realize.”
“I’m not underestimating anything,” Vivienne replied, her voice low and smooth. “But I’ll make sure he underestimates me.” She turned to Renzia. “We’re heading to the city then. It’s time for a little fun and games.”
Renzia’s slate flicked up again. I will stay hidden.
Vivienne gave a sharp nod, her expression becoming focused as she turned back to Narek. “Anything else I should know about Lysandro?”
Narek hesitated, clearly weighing his words. “He’s… a creature of habit. Always does the same rounds, follows the same schedule. Every evening, he retreats to a private room at the Black Veil—a high-end, exclusive club here in Serkoth. It’s notorious for catering to a certain kind of clientele. He spends hours there, gambling and indulging in excess. His patterns are predictable, and that’s something we can use against him.” He pointed out the location on the map spread across the table.
Vivienne’s lips curled into a sly smile. “A creature of habit.” She looked back at Renzia, whose expression remained as passive as ever. “We’ll get close to him, get him talking, find out what he’s hiding. He won’t even see it coming.”
Narek seemed to consider her words for a moment before speaking again. “There’s one more thing... his family’s debts. The Kelyths are in serious financial trouble. If they’re not careful, they’ll be exposed as frauds. Lysandro’s been hiding it, but the pressure’s mounting. If you can find a way to use that—make him think his own family might turn on him—it could break him.”
Vivienne’s eyes gleamed with interest. “A man with a lot to lose? That’s even better. Shame, desperation, and especially the delicious emotion of fear—they all make the best weapons. I can work with that.”
Narek’s gaze lingered on her for a moment, a little unease creeping into his expression. “Indeed.” He cleared his throat, though his voice faltered slightly as he spoke again. “Just remember... he’s not the only one with a lot to lose. Be careful how far you push him. If the Kelyths fall, it could drag others down with them.”
Vivienne gave him a nod, though it was a slow one, as if savoring something he didn’t quite understand. “Don’t worry, Narek. I know what I’m doing. I won’t let this get out of hand.”
He didn’t seem convinced. “I hope so,” he muttered under his breath as she turned to leave. There was a moment of silence before he spoke again, his tone quieter this time. “I hope so.”
What does he look like?” Vivienne asked, her tone casual but her crimson eyes gleaming with curiosity.
Narek didn’t glance up from the parchment he was organizing, but his answer was precise. “He’s shorter than the average lekine. Long black hair, usually tied back. Slim build—not particularly strong, but not frail either. Most would say he hovers somewhere between handsome and pretty, depending on who you ask.”
Vivienne’s lips curved into a sly grin, her tone turning teasing. “And if I ask you?”
That made Narek pause. He lifted his gaze, giving her a deadpan look that radiated the same exasperation his sister often displayed. “I’d say I’m too busy dealing with traitors and Sovereignty scheming to waste my thoughts on frivolous things like that.”
Vivienne let out a soft chuckle, clearly amused by his reaction. “Ah, the stoic intellectual type. Very practical.” She leaned forward slightly, her grin widening. “But come on, you’ve never once looked at him and thought, ‘Not bad’? Or even ‘What’s he hiding under all that hair’?”
Narek sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I don’t have time for such nonsense.”
“Uh-huh,” Vivienne replied, unconvinced but clearly entertained. “You know, you and Rava share that same world-weary ‘I’m above this’ attitude. Makes me wonder what you’d both be like at a party.”
Narek didn’t dignify that with a response, instead returning his attention to the parchment in front of him, his movements pointedly deliberate. Vivienne, however, continued to watch him with a grin, enjoying the subtle cracks in his composed demeanor.
“You are impossible!” He hissed.
Vivienne only grinned wider, showing a generous glimpse of her toothy maw. “Just like your sister.”
“I guess I better get to work.” The air around her felt like a charged storm as she stepped out of his office, Renzia trailing behind her in that same unsettling stillness. She had her target, and the pieces were already falling into place.
The Black Veil was their destination, the perfect place for an elegant predator like herself to make her mark. She was already thinking of the ways she’d worm into Lysandro’s mind, how she’d twist his fears and secrets to her advantage. He would break, just like all the others. It would be simple. Clean. And she wouldn’t even have to get her hands dirty.
But as she walked away, a small voice whispered in the back of Narek’s mind. Was this really the right choice?
His eyes drifted to the maps and reports on his desk, to the half-forgotten threads of conspiracy unraveling around him. He had asked Vivienne to handle this—he had asked a predator, a creature of nightmares, to navigate a game of deceit and fear. What had he done?
A soft exhale escaped his lips as he sat back in his chair, rubbing his eyes. He knew what Vivienne was. He knew what she could do. But in that moment, it became abundantly clear just how much she thrived on manipulation, on breaking the wills of others, on bending their very souls to her whim.
As Narek watched Vivienne disappear down the hall, a quiet regret settled in the pit of his stomach. He had sent her—his monster—to dismantle Lysandro Kelyth. But the real question remained: What would be left of him, of everyone around him, after Vivienne was finished?
His gaze hardened, but the unease didn’t fade. He didn’t know whether he had made the right call, or whether he’d just sealed a much darker fate for all of them.