Mother of Midnight

Chapter 234 – Home Sweet Home

Vivienne shifted her weight, the cool morning air brushing against her skin as she looked at Tarric with an amused expression. "That was fast," she remarked, her voice lightly teasing as she glanced down at Liora, who was nestled comfortably in her arms.

Tarric shrugged nonchalantly, his lips curling into a half-smile. "Well, you did ask me of all people. Plus, it seems my mother quite likes you."

Vivienne raised an eyebrow, her lips twitching into a smirk. "I am very likeable."

Tarric paused for a moment, staring at her in dead silence, his face blank. The silence stretched on, a beat too long before his composure broke. His shoulders shook with laughter, the sound rich and genuine. "I agree!" he finally managed, grinning wide. "But yes, it seems Mother took a bit of a personal interest after I mentioned it to her the other day."

Vivienne watched him, amused, her gaze shifting to the sprawling manor before them. The yard was quiet, the soft rustling of leaves the only sound accompanying their conversation. Liora shifted in Vivienne's arms, her tiny fingers twitching as she slept, undisturbed by the banter.

Her hunger, which had once been an all-consuming monster clawing at her mind, had been sated for the moment. The hunt the night before had been satisfying, and Vivienne couldn’t help but marvel at the distance she’d covered. When she let herself truly go, she could reach places most couldn’t even imagine. But that wasn’t her focus right now.

"So, who’s was it?" Vivienne asked, her voice curious but tinged with a hint of impatience.

Tarric shifted his weight slightly, his expression thoughtful as he scratched the back of his neck. "Belonged to the Rathik family. It’s still furnished, but you’ll need to get some cleaning done."

Vivienne frowned, her mind grappling with the name. "Who?"

Tarric’s eyes flickered with recognition. “Skol Rathik. The traitor. You were the one who figured that out, actually.”

Vivienne’s brow furrowed for a moment before realization struck her like a bolt of lightning. “Right! Yes. The undercity thing. How could I forget?” Her lips curled into a sly grin, but there was a slight edge of annoyance behind it. "I'm still annoyed I didn’t get to snack on him. That would’ve been a nice treat."

Tarric let out a small chuckle, shaking his head. "It wasn’t for lack of trying on your part, I know. But now, you’ve got the manor, and I’m sure it’ll serve its purpose."

Vivienne snorted, her tone a mix of amusement and irony. "A manor that belonged to a traitor," she mused aloud, eyes narrowing thoughtfully. "It’ll make a fine addition to the collection."

Tarric raised an eyebrow, smirking. "Do you plan on collecting manors now?"

"A woman needs a hobby," Vivienne said with a chuckle. "No, this will be fine for now. I need a place where I can raise my little Li."

His expression softened. "How is she, by the way?"

"Getting better," Vivienne said, shifting Liora slightly in her arms. "Korriva let her eat from her a few days ago, and that seems to have done wonders."

Tarric’s eyes widened slightly in realization. "Ah, that might be why Mother was so grumpy the other day. The family heads meeting was hilarious. Everyone thought they had offended her somehow." He grinned. "I’m glad your daughter is recovering."

Then, with a mischievous glint in his eye, he leaned in a little closer. "I am curious, though… how does she eat?"

"Like other nightmares," Vivienne said casually. "She can inflict bad dreams upon victims, then she feeds on the fear-filled aether they generate." She sighed. "It’s troublesome trying to find willing participants, though. Fortunately, she only needs to eat once every few days."

"Ooh, could I volunteer next?" Tarric waggled his eyebrows. "I’m sure I am delicious."

Vivienne smirked. "Oh, you would be. Exomancers are tasty, though hardly filling."

Tarric placed a dramatic hand over his chest. "How tragic. Why?"

Vivienne shrugged. "It depends on the personal reserves of aether a meal has. Exomancers don’t have much aether in their bodies, but it’s extremely refined."

"Ah, like those delicious but pitiful portions they serve at high-class restaurants?" Tarric asked, grinning.

"Exactly." Vivienne nodded. "Champions taste best, though. Overflowing with refined aether."

Tarric laughed. "I’ll be sure never to ascend, then. I’d rather not be someone’s feast."

Vivienne shifted Liora in her arms, the delicate form of the nightmare cradled securely against her chest. Her black eyes flickered with amusement as she looked at Tarric, his face carrying a knowing grin. They stood in front of the manor, the mansion itself looming behind them with its high walls and wide doors, a fitting symbol of Vivienne’s recent acquisition.

She clicked her tongue again, a playful sound that seemed to echo in the still air. "Bother," she said, feigning disappointment. "Here I was thinking you would be the next big meal."

Tarric, who had been pacing back and forth with his usual energy, smirked and adjusted his cloak. "The day is young," he said with a casual shrug. His eyes flickered toward the manor, then back to Vivienne. "The house is furnished, though we’ve taken any documents that we thought might be useful to the city. Do you need help hiring people to look after it?"

Vivienne tilted her head slightly, her lips curling into a smile that might have been comforting to most people, but to Tarric, it came with an unsettling edge. Her long, obsidian-scaled tail flicked behind her, brushing the ground with an almost hypnotic rhythm. “If you can find one or two people who could manage the house, that would be appreciated. I’m afraid that despite my immeasurable coincidence,” she paused, her eyes narrowing slightly, “the average snack soils themself in my presence.”

Tarric chuckled, shaking his head at her bluntness. "Maybe don’t refer to them as a snack?" he teased, amusement dancing in his eyes.

Vivienne raised an eyebrow, her smile widening as she feigned mock offense. "I’m only being honest," she replied, her voice light but laced with something darker beneath the surface. "Do not worry, the citizens of this city are safe from me. That being said," she continued, her tone shifting slightly as she adjusted the way she held Liora, "if you could find someone willing to feed Liora twice a week, then I can offer them an extra day off after and I’ll double their salary."

Tarric’s eyebrow arched at that, a mischievous grin tugging at the corner of his lips. "A day off, you say?" He leaned in slightly, eyes twinkling with a blend of curiosity and playful skepticism. "That would be generous enough to get some applicants."

Vivienne’s gaze sharpened as she looked down at Liora, her black eyes gleaming with something soft—almost maternal. "Liora needs it, Tarric. She doesn’t feed the same way others do. And I want her to feel at ease here, in this place. If someone’s willing to take on the responsibility... it should be rewarding. Perhaps more rewarding than any typical job around here," she said, her voice quieting just slightly as she spoke of her daughter.

Tarric nodded in understanding, his expression softening a bit at the mention of Liora. He could tell that Vivienne's attachment to her was real, despite the terrifying creature she presented to the world. He tapped his chin thoughtfully. "I see," he murmured, his mind already ticking through possibilities. "It’s not an easy task, but it could certainly be a lucrative one for the right person." He paused for a moment, considering. "And as for people to manage the house, well, I’d say you’ll want people with experience. You don't want a complete novice trying to keep track of such a place with so few employees."

Vivienne’s smirk returned. "Of course not. But how much should I pay my employees, Tarric? A simple house manager, someone to take care of Liora..." Her voice trailed off as she glanced down at the girl in her arms, thinking. "I imagine a good starting point would be more than what the average citizen earns... but I want it to be enticing, you know? A reason for them to stay."

Tarric considered her words for a moment, his pacing slowing as he thought about the numbers. "Well, based on the cost of living in this city... I’d say a couple of silver a day for a servant would be reasonable, though if you’re offering double salary after a day off, that’s pretty generous. For someone willing to handle Liora’s feeding schedule, you might want to offer a bit more. A lot more, honestly. People don’t often volunteer for jobs like that unless the reward is substantial."

Vivienne tilted her head, her expression thoughtful. “Would two gold a week suffice?”

Tarric raised an eyebrow. “That would probably do it, yeah,” he said, folding his arms loosely as he looked toward the manor’s arched entrance. “I’ll see what I can do. How many people do you want to hire?”

“Two will do for now,” Vivienne replied, her gaze sweeping across the grounds. The air was still, and the courtyard behind them was silent save for the faint rustle of leaves in the breeze. “The goblins wish to stay with me, and I intend on recruiting a few of them to help clean the house too. They’ve expressed surprising enthusiasm about dusting—though I suspect they’re more excited about climbing furniture than maintaining it.” Her lips curled faintly, half in amusement, half in fondness. “I also still need to think about getting workshops set up, but I might have a contact for that.”

Tarric’s interest visibly piqued. “Oh? Now I’m very curious about that,” he said, his grin widening. “But, alas, I must occasionally do the work Mother hands me.” He gave a theatrical sigh, then reached into the folds of his robe and pulled out a gleaming brass key. He handed it to her with a little flourish. “Here you go. Thank you for the gold, and have a wonderful day, Mistress of the Manor.”

Vivienne took the key delicately between two claws, lifting an eyebrow at the title. “Ray of sunshine,” she said, her tone dry but her smile genuine.

“You say that like it’s not true,” Tarric replied, already turning to go. “You’ve brightened this neighborhood, Vivienne. With terror, mystery, and probable minor property damage—but it still counts.”

“Go be productive, Tarric.”

“Fine, fine. See you later, Vivi!” he called over his shoulder, already descending the steps with that casual swagger of his. His robes flared slightly in the breeze as he vanished down the street, whistling some cheerful tune that didn’t quite suit his usual dramatic flair.

Vivienne watched him go for a moment, then turned her gaze back to the manor looming quietly before her. It wasn’t massive, but it had presence—arched windows, balconies wrapped in iron railings, a roof of faded red tiles, and ivy climbing lazily up one side like it had nowhere else to be. She gave it another once-over, tilting her head. In hindsight, perhaps she should have inspected the inside before buying it. But she trusted Tarric—enough, anyway—and if there were surprises waiting for her, well… surprises kept life interesting.

She adjusted her grip on Liora, cradling the girl gently with one arm while unlocking the door with the other. The key clicked in smoothly, and the old wood creaked as the door swung open.

It was dark inside, but Vivienne was never truly blind in the dark. Her eyes adjusted instantly, pupils shifting like liquid. The grand entrance hall was far more furnished than she’d expected—faint silhouettes of chairs and sofas lined the walls, with mismatched pots filled with long-neglected plants. A fine layer of dust covered everything, giving the space a faintly ghostly air.

Sunlight filtered in through stained glass panes near the ceiling, casting pale colors across the tiled floor. The architecture struck her immediately: wide arches, thick columns, and intricate latticework along the upper beams. It was an odd blend of southern European charm and Middle Eastern elegance—worn by time but still beautiful.

Vivienne stepped inside, her claws clicking gently against the floor. The air smelled of old wood, faded incense, and disuse.

“Seems like this place hasn’t been tidied in a while,” she muttered to herself, glancing at a cobwebbed chandelier overhead. She walked forward slowly, taking in the details—tapestries half-fallen from the walls, shelves still holding books and knickknacks thick with dust. A mirror in the entryway caught her reflection: her five black eyes, her wild, glassy hair, her towering horns—and Liora, curled gently in her arms like a shadowy doll.

“Is this our new home?” rasped Liora, her voice barely more than a whisper, dry and distant but curious.

Vivienne looked down at her and smiled softly, brushing a loose curl from Liora’s face. “Yes, sweetheart. Yes it is.”

“It’s pretty,” Liora said, her voice soft, the way someone might speak in a cathedral, not wanting to disturb the stillness.

“You think so?” Vivienne’s smile widened, her tail swaying behind her with a lazy curve. “Shall we go pick you out a bedroom? You can have any room in the house you want.”

Liora blinked up at her, her hollow eyes wide and gleaming. “Even the biggest one?”

“If you want, you can have the biggest one in the whole manor,” Vivienne said, brushing a speck of dust from Liora’s cheek with a clawed fingertip.

A faint, shy smile crept across Liora’s face—rare, soft, and a little haunting. “Thank you, Mommy.”

That word still made something tighten in Vivienne’s chest, in the best possible way. She leaned down and nuzzled Liora’s temple, her crystalline hair brushing over the girl's shoulder, then covered her in kisses—forehead, cheek, brow, all in a flurry of affection. “Anything for you, mijita.”

The halls of the manor echoed faintly with their footsteps as Vivienne wandered, Liora still cradled securely in her arms. Each room they passed told a little story—some with faded wallpaper and heavy drapes, others with peeling paint and furniture draped in dusty cloth. There were six bedrooms in total on the upper floor. One was clearly the original master suite, larger than the others and with its own small balcony and fireplace. The rest varied in size, but a few were still quite spacious—probably meant for family or honored guests.

She gently nudged open doors with her tail, peering inside and making mental notes. One of the rooms still had a child’s dresser and a broken toy chest in the corner. Another had shelves built directly into the walls, with books long abandoned to time. She'd have to see which one Liora took a liking to.

Downstairs, she explored further, tail swaying low behind her. Near the back of the manor, she found a heavy door that opened to a set of stone steps descending into the basement. The air grew cooler with each step, dense with the scent of old stone and time.

The first room she entered was the kitchen—a large, square chamber with worn flagstone floors and soot-blackened walls. An old hearth dominated one side, and rusted wrought iron pots still hung from hooks overhead. The place was outdated but functional, and far better stocked than she’d expected. With some scrubbing, it might even be charming.

She turned on her heel and backed out of the room, the low ceiling brushing her horns as she ducked beneath the archway again. Liora shifted slightly in her arms, her claws twitching.

“Too dusty,” the girl rasped, barely louder than a breath.

Vivienne nodded. “Far too dusty. And grim. It smells like mildew and regret.”

She carried Liora back toward the kitchen and gave the space another once-over. Functional or not, it would need some work. The hearth hadn’t been cleaned in what looked like years, and the countertops were layered in a fine sheet of grime. Still, the bones were good—sturdy, solid. It would serve them well with a little love and a lot of soap.

She exhaled through her nose, then glanced down at Liora. “Alright, verdict’s in. Kitchen stays. Servant’s quarters get turned into storage or demolished entirely.”

“Can we make it into a secret room?” Liora asked, eyes faintly glinting with curiosity despite her weakness.

Vivienne’s lips curled into a grin. “A secret room, hmm? You’ve got ambition, sweetheart. I like that. We’ll keep it in mind. Now—let’s find you a proper bed, not a sad little cot tucked in a cave.”

She adjusted Liora in her arms, cradling her close again, and ascended the stairs. Dust motes danced in the shafts of late afternoon light that filtered through the windows upstairs, and Vivienne’s steps echoed softly on the stone floor. This house might have been neglected, forgotten, even buried under time—but it was hers now. Theirs.

And she had every intention of making it a home.