Mother of Midnight

Chapter 149 – Bed Warming

It was the early hours of the morning when Vivienne slipped quietly into the clanhall, the faint glow of the waning night casting long shadows across the stone walls. The staff on duty barely spared her a glance—by now, they were well accustomed to her late-night comings and goings. She caught sight of one maid in passing, whose lingering gaze was either a poor attempt at subtlety or a deliberate display of admiration. Vivienne smirked to herself, reveling in the attention. She did love her body, after all—every curve, every glance it drew, every unspoken thought it inspired.

Her night’s business was concluded, the adrenaline fading but leaving her with a restless energy that still buzzed beneath her skin. She considered her options, but nothing seemed quite satisfying enough. Until an idea struck her—a rather tempting one at that.

Perhaps it was time to finally make good on her playful suggestion to warm Rava’s bed. A grin crept across her lips as she strolled through the hall, her tail swaying lazily behind her. Yes, that could be exactly what she needed.

Vivienne made her way toward Rava’s quarters, the soft padding of her bare feet against the stone floor barely making a sound. The clanhall was quiet, save for the occasional creak of wood or distant murmur of the night staff. Her black eyes gleamed faintly in the dim light, the grin still lingering on her lips as her mind turned over the many ways this could play out.

Reaching the familiar door, she hesitated only a moment before slipping it open with a practiced ease. The room was dark, lit only by the faint glow of embers in the hearth, casting long shadows across the walls. Rava lay sprawled on her bed, her breathing slow and steady, the soft rise and fall of her chest in perfect rhythm with the night.

Vivienne leaned against the doorway for a moment, savoring the scene. There was something peaceful about it, something that made her usual mischievous energy settle into something quieter, warmer. Still, she wasn’t one to leave things so tranquil for long.

With deliberate softness, she approached, her tail flicking playfully behind her. Vivienne removed her dress, lazily dropping it to the floor. She then slid onto the bed beside Rava, careful not to disturb her just yet. Her fingers grazed Rava’s arm, trailing gently along her fur, a feather-light touch that sent a faint shiver through the sleeping woman.

“Mmm…” Rava stirred slightly, her voice a low, sleepy murmur. “Vivienne…?”

“Who else would be sneaking into your bed at this hour, sweetheart?” Vivienne whispered, her tone dripping with playfulness, though there was a warmth in her voice that hadn’t been there before.

Rava’s eyes cracked open, amber irises catching the dim light as she blinked away the fog of sleep. She gave Vivienne a half-lidded stare, her expression hovering somewhere between exasperation and amusement. “You couldn’t wait until morning?”

Vivienne chuckled softly, leaning in until her face was mere inches from Rava’s. “Where’s the fun in that?” Her voice lowered, a teasing purr slipping into her tone. “Besides, I figured you might appreciate a little warmth on such a cold night.”

Rava sighed, but it was a sound more amused than annoyed. “You’re incorrigible.”

“And you love it,” Vivienne replied smoothly, settling herself more comfortably beside Rava. For a moment, they lay in silence, the crackling embers filling the room with a soft warmth.

“I thought you had business tonight,” Rava muttered, her voice still thick with sleep.

“I did,” Vivienne said, her fingers lazily tracing idle patterns on Rava’s arm. “Handled it. Now I’m here. Seemed like the perfect way to end the night.”

Rava huffed quietly but didn’t pull away. Instead, she rolled over in a slow, sleepy motion, pulling Vivienne in close with an ease that came from her strength and familiarity. Her muscular arms wrapped around the smaller woman, enveloping her in warmth and a sense of quiet security. Despite her half-conscious state, there was a natural tenderness to her touch, a protective instinct that lingered beneath her usual stoic demeanor.

Vivienne found herself pressed against Rava’s chest, the warmth radiating from her companion seeping into her skin. She let out a soft, contented hum, nestling herself deeper into Rava’s embrace. For all her teasing and mischief, moments like this were rare, and though she would never say it outright, they were something she secretly cherished.

The faint scent of earth and pine clung to Rava, mingling with the natural heat of her body. Vivienne tilted her head slightly, her eyes half-lidded as she smiled against Rava’s collarbone. “Comfy,” she murmured, her voice low and teasing but laced with genuine contentment.

Rava grunted softly, her face buried in Vivienne’s hair, and mumbled something incomprehensible under her breath. Whether it was a complaint or an acknowledgment, Vivienne couldn’t tell, but it didn’t matter. She knew Rava well enough to understand that actions spoke louder than words, and right now, the way Rava held her said everything.

For a brief moment, Vivienne’s usual playful thoughts quieted, replaced by a rare feeling of ease. Here, wrapped in the arms of someone who had become more important to her than she cared to admit, the world outside seemed distant and unimportant.

Vivienne’s tail curled around Rava’s leg, a subtle gesture of comfort and affection. “You know,” she whispered with a smirk, “if you’re not careful, I might start thinking you actually like having me around.”

Rava’s grip tightened slightly in response, a wordless answer that made Vivienne’s grin widen. This was enough—no teasing, no grand gestures. Just the two of them, sharing a quiet moment in the early hours of the morning.

As the last of the embers in the hearth faded into faint, glowing ashes, Vivienne let herself relax fully. Whatever the next day brought, it could wait. For now, she was exactly where she wanted to be.

Vivienne cursed the sun under her breath as its first rays crept through the slats of the shutters, cutting through the dim warmth of the room with an unwelcome golden glow. She shifted slightly, pressing her face against Rava’s chest in a vain attempt to block out the light. The moment was too perfect to be spoiled by something as mundane as sunrise.

She was perfectly, blissfully comfortable—Rava’s strong arms still loosely wrapped around her, the rhythmic rise and fall of her companion’s breathing soothing her in ways she hadn’t realized she missed. It had been a long time since she’d enjoyed anything resembling this level of closeness. A life that felt distant, almost unreal, yet carried traces of longing she hadn’t acknowledged until now.

Her tail coiled slightly tighter around Rava’s leg as if to hold on to the fleeting moment, and she allowed herself the indulgence of savoring it for just a little longer. The warmth, the weight, the steady heartbeat beneath her ear—it all grounded her in the present, pushing aside the darker corners of her mind.

Rava began to stir, her breathing shifting as wakefulness slowly claimed her. Vivienne cursed the sun again, silently this time, frustrated at how short-lived the moment had been. She closed her eyes and sighed, her voice muffled against Rava’s chest.

“Damn sun. I was comfortable,” she muttered, her tone laced with both annoyance and a hint of wistfulness.

Rava gave a low, sleepy grunt, still half-asleep, her hand shifting lazily across Vivienne’s back in response. Whether it was a silent reassurance or merely an unconscious gesture, Vivienne didn’t care. It was enough to make her smile, albeit reluctantly.

Her thoughts drifted back to how long it had been since she’d experienced anything like this—genuine comfort, closeness that wasn’t laced with fear or tension. Centuries, if her patron goddess was to be believed, and not without a touch of bitterness. Yet here she was, cradled in the arms of someone she cared about more than she’d admit aloud, feeling something dangerously close to contentment

Rava stirred fully awake not long after, blinking against the soft morning light filtering through the shutters. She stretched slightly but found herself pinned in place, her leg tightly ensnared by Vivienne’s coiled tail.

“Viv,” she muttered, her voice still thick with sleep. “Can you let go of my leg? I want to get up.”

“I refuse,” Vivienne replied smoothly, her lips quirking into a mischievous grin as she nestled closer.

Rava sighed, rubbing a hand over her face before trying again, more insistent this time. “I want to do my training.”

“Oh, I can think of an alternative kind of training we could do,” Vivienne purred, her voice dropping into a sultry, teasing tone as she trailed a clawed finger lazily along Rava’s arm.

Rava shot her a deadpan look, though her ears flicked slightly in what might have been mild embarrassment. “Viv.”

“Fine, fine,” Vivienne grumbled, clearly disappointed but unwilling to push too far. With a slow, exaggerated reluctance, she loosened her tail’s grip and let it slide free from Rava’s leg. She flopped dramatically onto her back, heaving a mock sigh of despair. “There. You’re free to abandon me now, traitor.”

Rava swung her legs over the side of the bed, casting a glance over her shoulder at Vivienne, who lay sprawled across the bed like a sulking cat. “You’re ridiculous.”

“I prefer charming,” Vivienne shot back, folding her hands behind her head with a playful smirk. “You could always skip training, you know. Stay here, and I’ll show you how charming I can really be.”

Rava chuckled quietly as she started dressing herself. “I think I’ll stick to my routine. Someone has to be disciplined around here.”

“Ugh, fine,” Vivienne groaned theatrically, dragging the word out like a petulant child forced to do chores. She flopped off the bed with an exaggerated sigh, her tail swishing lazily behind her as she sat on the edge, rubbing her eyes and stretching.

Her gaze drifted to her dress, neatly folded on a nearby chair, clean and pristine as always—courtesy of whatever residual magic clung to her. No matter what mess she got into, the garment never seemed to stain or wrinkle, a small but convenient perk of her new existence. With a flick of her claws, she lifted it, the fabric flowing like liquid shadow between her fingers as she slipped it over her head.

“Why must mornings exist?” she muttered under her breath, casting a longing glance back at the rumpled bed, still warm and inviting. Rava, already halfway through getting ready, gave her a bemused look but didn’t comment.

Once dressed, Vivienne ran her claws through her long, wavy hair, smoothing it out enough to look presentable. She wasn’t exactly eager to leave the comfort of the clanhall and face whatever awaited outside, but if Rava was already on her way to her training, it left her with few options.

Still, Vivienne couldn’t help but mutter one final complaint as she stood. “Next time, I’m chaining you to the bed, so you don’t leave me in the morning.”

“I’d like to see you try.” Taunted Rava as she left.

With a roll of her eyes, Vivienne finally left the clanhall, though not without muttering a few choice words under her breath about mornings and the sheer audacity of responsibility. As she stepped outside, the crisp air nipped at her skin, and she was reminded once again that she much preferred the warmth of a bed—preferably one shared.

She stretched, her tail swaying behind her lazily, before a thought struck her. She had commissioned Adryn for something, hadn’t she? Ah yes, the dress for Renzia. That little detail had slipped her mind amid the chaos of recent events. A small smile curled her lips as she remembered the mannequin-like woman’s reaction to the idea of new clothes—it had been as delightfully awkward as everything else about her.

Determined to check on the commission, Vivienne wandered through the bustling streets of Serkoth, the familiar sounds of the city waking up around her. Bells chimed in the distance, marking the passage of time. She scanned her surroundings, looking for any sign of Renzia. Despite her strange appearance, the woman had a knack for blending into the background when she wasn’t actively being spoken to, and Vivienne wasn’t surprised it took her nearly an entire bell to track her down.

Eventually, she spotted Renzia standing off to the side of the yard where they had dropped off the cart during their last outing. The mannequin-like woman stood perfectly still, almost unnervingly so, as though she were waiting for instructions or simply observing the world in her peculiar, detached manner.

“There you are,” Vivienne called out, making her way over with a relaxed gait, her tail swaying gently behind her. “I’ve been looking for you.”

At the sound of her voice, Renzia’s head snapped toward her with that unnervingly swift, mechanical precision. Without hesitation, she darted forward in a rush, her movements eerily smooth yet unnaturally rigid, stopping just a scant meter away from Vivienne—close enough that the mannequin-like woman loomed slightly, her blank, unreadable face tilted downward as if studying her.

Vivienne couldn’t help but giggle at the odd display. “Good to see you too, sweetheart. You didn’t have to wait out here.” She crossed her arms and offered Renzia a warm, teasing smile. “Were you just standing there the whole time, waiting for someone to wind you up?”

Renzia blinked slowly, a pause stretching as though she needed extra time to process Vivienne’s words. Standing? Yes, I was standing, she finally responded, her voice written on her slate with a single, deliberate swipe. The statement was delivered in her typical matter-of-fact manner, devoid of context, humor, or awareness of how strange that sounded.

Vivienne shook her head in amusement, a grin still tugging at her lips. “Sweetheart, you don’t have to stand around like a lost puppet waiting for orders. You can, y’know, move and do whatever it is you like.”

Renzia’s head tilted slightly, the faintest suggestion of contemplation crossing her otherwise expressionless face. Like what? appeared on her slate, followed by another slow blink as if to emphasize her genuine confusion.

“Anything! Explore, people-watch, go find something interesting. Maybe cause a little mischief here and there.” Vivienne offered with a mischievous lilt. “Though I get the feeling standing here in the cold seemed interesting enough to you.”

Renzia tilted her head in that familiar, curious way, her unblinking eyes fixed on Vivienne. She didn’t respond—no surprise there—but the slight shift in her posture hinted that she was at least attempting to process the meaning of bold.

Vivienne sighed, though her smile remained playful. “Anyway, I have a gift for you. I had forgotten to give it to you before we left on our last little adventure. Come along.” She flicked her tail in the direction they needed to go and set off at a leisurely pace.

Renzia followed without a word, her movements eerily smooth as always. Dutifully, she stayed a half-step behind Vivienne, her presence silent yet palpable, like a shadow that refused to be ignored. The pair wound their way through the bustling streets of Serkoth, weaving through early risers preparing their stalls, street vendors shouting about fresh produce, and tired travelers seeking a warm meal before continuing their journey.

Vivienne relished the city’s energy, from the scent of baked goods wafting out of a nearby shop to the low hum of distant conversation. Serkoth may have been a city of veiled intentions and serpentine charm, but it had its moments of warmth—usually in places where people weren't too concerned about looking proper or polished.

She stole a glance at Renzia, who remained as unreadable as ever. It was moments like these where Vivienne found herself wondering just what went on inside her companion’s mind. Was she marveling at the world around her, or merely cataloging the sights like data to be sorted later? Whatever it was, she didn’t ask. Renzia would answer in her own way, when and if she wanted to.

The two soon arrived at Ardyn’s Threads, the bell above the door chiming softly as they stepped inside. The shop smelled faintly of polished wood and rich fabrics, a comforting mix that gave the air a certain warmth. Brightly colored bolts of cloth lined the walls, and mannequins in various stages of outfitting dotted the room, displaying Ardyn’s latest creations.

At the back of the store, Ardyn was engrossed in a delicate project, their hands moving with a deft grace as they adjusted the fine stitching on a half-finished garment. The Siren’s long, flowing hair shimmered under the morning light, catching the eyes for just a moment before they turned, their practiced smile as bright as ever.

“Ah! It is wonderful to see you again,” Ardyn greeted, setting down their work with a fluid, practiced motion. Their voice carried that signature pleasant lilt, musical yet refined, as though each word was carefully composed. The Siren’s eyes sparkled with familiar warmth, though their glance briefly flicked to Renzia with a flicker of curiosity.

“I trust that dress has served you well?”

Vivienne returned the smile, an amused glint in her eyes as she gave a slight, playful bow of her head. “Quite well, actually. You’ve outdone yourself, as always.”

“Of course, darling. I am a master of my craft.” Ardyn’s confidence was as unabashed as ever, but there was no arrogance in their tone—only the steady self-assurance of someone who truly believed in their abilities. They gave a dramatic sweep of their hand, as if to punctuate the point. “And I presume you are here for your other commission? For your peculiar friend there?” Their gaze lingered on Renzia a moment longer before adding with a teasing grin, “I had thought you’d forgotten it!”

“It’s been a busy month,” Vivienne replied with a shrug. “So, is it done?”

Ardyn placed a hand over their heart in mock offense, their expression one of exaggerated shock. “You wound me! Of course it is. I would never leave such a work incomplete.” They turned, gesturing for the two to follow. “Come along. I have it in the back.”

With a glance at Renzia, who still stood perfectly motionless beside her, Vivienne chuckled softly and gave her a nudge. “Come on, sweetheart. Time to see what Ardyn’s cooked up for you.”

The mannequin obediently fell into step behind Vivienne, her movements as stiff and precise as ever. Ardyn led them through the shop, past rows of bolts of fabric and half-dressed mannequins draped in luxurious cloth, until they reached a small, private fitting area at the back. Curtains lined the space, creating a cozy, secluded corner, while a nearby rack held several garments draped in protective coverings.

With a flourish, Ardyn turned to face them, a satisfied gleam in their eyes. “Now, allow me a moment to retrieve it,” they said, disappearing behind a curtain. The sound of soft rustling followed, accompanied by the occasional clink of hangers being moved aside.

As they waited, Vivienne cast a glance at Renzia. The mannequin’s unblinking gaze was fixed on the curtain, her head tilted slightly as if trying to discern what was happening beyond it. Vivienne smiled, a quiet warmth settling in her chest. Renzia’s reactions—or lack thereof—were always endearing in their own way. Despite her stiff demeanor and blank expression, there was something oddly adorable about how seriously she approached every situation.

Moments later, Ardyn reappeared, holding up a dress designed with unmistakable care. It was a servant’s dress in form—simple in structure, modest in cut—but elevated by its exquisite materials and dark, striking colors. Midnight black formed the primary hue, accented with subtle silver threading along the hems and cuffs, while faint geometric patterns shimmered when the fabric caught the light. The high collar added an air of formal elegance, and a dark ribbon cinched the waist just enough to create a flattering shape without compromising practicality.

“Here it is!” Ardyn declared, holding the garment out proudly. “A servant’s dress, yes, but crafted to reflect her role by your side, Lady Vivienne. It’s designed for ease of movement but maintains a sense of quiet dignity, with colors to complement yours.”

Vivienne took the dress, letting the fabric glide through her fingers. It was soft yet sturdy, clearly meant to withstand wear without losing its regal sheen. She turned to Renzia with a smirk. “Perfect. Try it on, sweetheart. Let’s see how well it suits you.”

Renzia accepted the dress without hesitation, her movements precise and deliberate as always. She stepped behind a nearby privacy curtain and, in moments, emerged wearing the new attire. The dark fabric contrasted beautifully with her pale, canvas-like skin and gleaming joints, giving her an almost spectral elegance. The silver accents shimmered faintly with each step she took, adding a touch of understated beauty to the otherwise practical garment.

Vivienne’s eyes gleamed with satisfaction. “Oh, that’s perfect. You look like a proper attendant now. Fresh and new. It suits you.”

Ardyn wasn’t done, though. With a mischievous twinkle in their eye, they reached into a nearby drawer and pulled out a small, obsidian brooch. Its design was simple yet striking—a smooth, circular piece of polished black stone with intricate silver etchings forming arcane runes around its edge. At the center was a faintly glowing core, almost like a captured star flickering in the darkness.

“This,” Ardyn said, stepping forward, “is more than just an accessory. It’s enchanted. Once fastened to her collar, it will allow your peculiar friend to… communicate.” They tapped the glowing core with a delicate finger, and a faint hum of magic resonated through the air. “Nothing fancy—only speech. It links to her aether, letting her speak aloud without needing a slate.”

Vivienne’s eyebrows lifted in surprise. “You can do that?”

Ardyn smiled smugly, their confidence radiating from every syllable. “Darling, I can do anything when it comes to enchantment and artifice. Now, shall we see how it works?”

Vivienne nodded, accepting the obsidian brooch from Ardyn’s hand. It was a small, elegant piece: a polished oval of dark stone set in delicate silver filigree, faint lines of aetheric energy running through it like veins. Carefully, she leaned toward Renzia, who stood perfectly still, as always, waiting patiently. Vivienne fastened the brooch at the center of Renzia’s high collar, where it clicked into place with a soft pulse of light.

For a moment, nothing happened. The brooch lay quiet, reflecting the dim light of the shop.

Vivienne glanced back at Ardyn, raising an eyebrow. “What now?”

“Patience,” Ardyn said with a chuckle. “Have her channel aether into it. The enchantment needs to attune to her.”

Turning her attention back to Renzia, Vivienne softened her voice. “Sweetheart, can you push a little aether into it?”

Renzia’s featureless head tilted slightly, her entire form eerily still for a moment. Then, with an almost imperceptible shift, she did as instructed. A faint hum filled the air as the brooch absorbed her aether, pulsing briefly with light before growing still again.

Then, the sound came.

“…Misss… Tr-tre-t-ress…” Renzia’s voice rasped out in disjointed, halting syllables. Her tone was oddly hollow, as though coming from deep within her body rather than any recognizable mouth. Each word crackled with strain, as if the mechanism within the brooch was struggling to translate her aether into speech.

Vivienne’s eyes widened in delight. “You did it!” she said, placing a gentle hand on Renzia’s arm. “It’s rough, but you’re speaking, sweetheart. You’re actually speaking!”

Ardyn observed the scene with a critical, slightly puzzled expression, tapping a slender finger against their chin. Their eyes flicked from Renzia to the brooch and back again. Something wasn’t quite right.

“Yes… It’s functioning exactly as I designed it,” they said slowly, the usual confidence in their voice giving way to thoughtful uncertainty. “But the voice—” they gestured vaguely at Renzia, “—should be much clearer. I don’t understand why it’s… distorted.”

Vivienne frowned, glancing at Renzia. “You’re saying it’s not supposed to sound like that?”

“Not at all,” Ardyn replied, now pacing slightly. “The enchantment is designed to perfectly translate intent into speech. It should produce a voice as smooth as flowing water.” They stopped mid-step, brow furrowing. “Instead, it sounds as though something is interfering with the connection.”

Renzia stood rigid, her faceless head tilting slightly to one side. Then, without hesitation, she tried again. This time, her voice came through in a strange, fragmented monotone, oddly mechanical and uneven. “I-I-I aM not-no-t s-sure-ure wh-wh-whAt is hap-hap-hap-hap-ening.”

Vivienne narrowed her eyes slightly. Renzia’s voice was still intelligible, but the disjointed rhythm made it unsettling to hear. It was as if something deeper was affecting the enchantment, something beyond Ardyn’s control.

Ardyn approached Renzia with a scrutinizing gaze, their nimble fingers carefully tracing the edges of the obsidian brooch. Their expression grew more puzzled by the second, their eyes flicking back and forth between the enchanted item and the mannequin’s faceless head. “The enchantment is perfectly intact,” they murmured, voice low and thoughtful. “No errors in the runes, no interference from external aether flows… everything is as it should be.” They trailed off into a muttered string of unintelligible words before finally looking back at Vivienne, a rare flicker of uncertainty dancing in their eyes. “This shouldn’t be happening.”

Before Vivienne could respond, Renzia’s head tilted sharply, the faint creak of her joints the only sound in the room. Her voice came next, disjointed and faltering, a stuttering monotone laced with an eerie, unnatural cadence. “W-wi-ilL y-y-you thro-throw me aw-away-ay, mis-str-rESS?”

Vivienne blinked, caught off guard by the question. The fractured words clung to the air like brittle shards of glass, sharp and fragile. Her heart twisted at the desperate tone buried beneath Renzia’s mechanical stammering. Stepping forward, she placed a hand firmly on the mannequin’s shoulder, her expression softening. “Sweetheart, I would never throw you away. Don’t even think that.”

Renzia stood perfectly still, but something in her posture shifted ever so slightly. As if some unspoken weight had been lifted, even if she didn’t quite understand how or why. Vivienne’s voice carried the same comforting assurance it always did, but to Renzia, it seemed to sink deeper this time, resonating beyond mere words.

Ardyn, still baffled by the malfunction, cleared their throat delicately, their fingers tapping rhythmically against their chin as they mulled over the strange behavior of the brooch. “It’s… possible,” they began, their tone careful, as though speaking the words aloud helped them organize their thoughts, “that the enchantments animating her are damaged or incomplete. That’s the only explanation I can think of. I’ve made similar items for automatons and golems before, and they’ve worked perfectly.”

Vivienne’s brows furrowed slightly, concern flickering in her dark eyes. “Is there anything that can be done?” she asked, voice calm but laced with an undertone of urgency. Though Renzia showed no outward sign of distress, Vivienne didn’t like the idea of leaving her companion in such a state of uncertainty.

Ardyn’s expression shifted into something more businesslike, the gleam of a merchant’s cunning flashing behind their gaze. “I could perhaps have a look at her inner workings—provided you’d trust me with that, of course—but it would take time. A week, at least. Maybe more, depending on what I find.” They crossed their arms and offered a knowing smile. “It would also cost you. I don’t do anything for free, darling.”

Vivienne suppressed the urge to roll her eyes. Ardyn’s talent was undeniable, but so was their love of haggling. Still, if it would help Renzia, it was worth the trouble. She glanced at her companion, whose faceless head was tilted ever so slightly in her usual manner of quiet observation. Even without visible features, there was something about Renzia’s posture that conveyed a tentative hope, as though she were waiting to hear what Vivienne would decide.

“How much are we talking?” Vivienne asked, keeping her voice neutral. She wasn’t about to let Ardyn see how invested she was.

“Oh, nothing too extravagant,” Ardyn replied, waving a hand dismissively. “Call it… three gold coins. A fair price for the level of expertise and care I’d be providing, don’t you think?”

“Fair?” Vivienne arched a brow, a sly grin forming on her lips. “You’re charging me as if you’re rebuilding her from the ground up.”

“Ah, but darling, you know, proper enchantment work isn’t cheap,” Ardyn said smoothly, their practiced smile never faltering. “Besides, think of it as an investment. Ensuring your delightful friend can speak clearly and properly—why, that’s priceless.”

Vivienne hummed thoughtfully, weighing her options. She didn’t like being extorted, but Ardyn’s expertise was genuine, and if they truly could help Renzia, the cost would be worth it. “Fine,” she said at last. “Three gold it is. But if it takes longer than a week, we’ll be renegotiating the price.”

“Of course, of course,” Ardyn said with a slight, gracious bow, their tone light and airy. “You drive a hard bargain, my dear. I’ll begin preparations right away. Bring her back to me tomorrow, and I’ll start the examination.”

“Very well,” Vivienne said, turning back toward the door. “Come, Renzia. We’ll be back soon.”

As they left the shop and stepped into the bustling streets of Serkoth, Vivienne glanced at Renzia once more. “Don’t worry, sweetheart. We’ll get this sorted out. You’ll be speaking properly in no time.”

Renzia didn’t respond with words this time. Instead, she simply followed, her movements as smooth and steady as ever. Though her voice was fractured, Vivienne could sense something behind that stillness—a quiet gratitude that didn’t need words to be felt.