novelraw Chapter 235 – New Hires
Chapter 235 – New Hires
The next few days were a blur of activity. From sunrise to sunset, the manor echoed with the sounds of shuffling feet, muffled chatter, and the occasional shriek when someone uncovered a particularly stubborn spider’s nest.
The goblins, all fifteen of them, were overjoyed to leave the clanhall behind. Vivienne hadn’t thought of the place as unpleasant—it had seemed functional, safe, and relatively orderly—but the way they burst into laughter at the sheer idea of sleeping in rooms with windows spoke volumes. She hadn’t realized how stifled they’d felt. Maybe it was the lack of space, or the constant noise, or maybe it was just the way the walls seemed to press in on them after too long. Whatever the reason, they treated the move like a grand escape.
As she’d offered, every single one agreed to move in with her, no hesitation. When she explained they could each take any room that hadn’t already been claimed—hers, Liora’s, and two for the rare guest—they reacted as if she’d offered them palaces. She had to physically stop one of them from trying to install a hammock in the hallway “just to be polite.”
Eventually, they settled into three rooms on the ground floor, five to a room. Beds were dragged around, mattresses swapped, and someone managed to build a bunk system out of leftover furniture and very questionable carpentry. She heard more than one goblin proudly declare their “upper bunk throne,” and decided to let them keep at it so long as nothing caught fire.
The halls felt fuller, warmer. Liora watched it all quietly from Vivienne grasp, occasionally breaking into faint smiles when someone peeked in to offer her a handmade trinket or an awkward joke. The goblins doted on her like a shrine maiden, and Vivienne couldn’t help but feel something settle in her chest—a strange, unfamiliar lightness.
The house wasn’t silent anymore. It laughed. It breathed. It lived.
Right now, she was seated in one of the smaller sitting rooms near the front of the manor, one that had been cleared of dust and polished by goblin hands eager to impress. A bit threadbare around the edges, perhaps, but with the sun streaming in through the tall arched windows and Liora nestled quietly in her arms, it felt more like a home than a ruin.
Across from her, perched stiffly on the edge of a velvet-cushioned chair, sat a lekine man in formal grey robes, his posture flawless, ears still, and tail tucked with precise control. His expression was masterfully neutral—calm, measured, completely unreadable—but Vivienne could taste the fear radiating off him. Salty, bitter, laced with just the tiniest thread of curiosity. She resisted the urge to grin. She wanted to employ the man, not have him bolting for the door mid-interview.
“And how much experience do you have?” she asked, stroking Liora’s hair absentmindedly.
“I have recently left my work for House Farrir after thirty years of service,” he replied evenly. “Fifteen as a footman. The rest as head of staff.”
“That’s quite the resume,” Vivienne said, cocking her head. “Why did you leave?”
“I wanted to take on a quieter role,” he said with a faint twitch of his whiskers. “But I was considered too valuable where I was. They refused to reassign me. So I left.”
Vivienne tapped her claw against the armrest of her chair, a soft click click click echoing through the quiet room. “Then why work for me?” she asked. “Surely you’ve heard the stories. The teeth. The claws. The tail. The... everything.”
His tail tip gave a twitch, but he didn’t flinch. “Rumor,” he said coolly, “is an aristocrat’s playground. I prefer to see things for myself before passing judgment.”
Vivienne smiled slowly. It wasn’t a friendly smile, but it was sincere. “And now that you’ve seen me,” she said, her voice dipped in curiosity, “how do you feel about me?”
“I believe you are courteous so long as it benefits you,” he said, evenly and without hesitation. “And I think the rumours are overblown.”
Vivienne grinned wide—far too wide for comfort—and let her lips peel back to reveal the full spread of needle-like teeth behind her front row. The man’s pupils tightened, and though he didn’t flinch outright, his back straightened like he’d been struck between the shoulders.
“Is that so?” she purred. “You know I can literally taste your fear? Salt and metal. I know exactly how terrified of me you are.”
The older lekine swallowed hard, his throat bobbing visibly. “Be that as it may,” he said, carefully measured, “I do not believe you’ll harm me. And… the pay is double what I earned in my previous post.”
Vivienne’s grin softened into something warmer, though no less sharp. “Coin. Ever the motivator.”
Her claws drummed lightly again on the armrest. Liora shifted in her arms and murmured softly, but did not wake.
“And were you told,” she continued, voice lilting, “about the additional offer, should you volunteer to feed my daughter once or twice a week?”
He hesitated. Just a beat. “...Yes, I was informed. May I ask what that entails?”
Vivienne nodded, adjusting Liora gently as she nestled deeper into her arms. “Of course. It’s quite simple. We visit you in your sleep—well, I do. You’ll have some rather vivid, unpleasant dreams. You’ll wake up exhausted. Rest the next day. That’s it. Two gold coins a week for it. On top of your normal wage and your two days off.”
His brows rose high, lips parting slightly. “I get regular days off?”
Vivienne rolled her eyes with a soft snort. “Obviously. I’m not going to work you to the bone, darling. I want you alive and functioning. Besides, the goblins already clean most of the house.”
The man blinked once. Then again. His ears twitched for the first time since sitting down.
“May I speak plainly?” he asked.
“Please do,” said Vivienne. “I’m not one who stands on formality.”
He straightened again, though this time there was something almost reverent about his posture. “Assuming I am not being lured into my final sleep,” he said, “this job is far too great a thing to pass up. I would be paid more than I ever have, treated better than most lords treat their own blood, and I’d be given time to breathe. I will do anything you ask of me for that.”
“Tarric recommended you personally, so that’s good enough for me,” Vivienne said, waving a hand lazily through the air. “Do you need a room to live in?”
“I would appreciate it,” he replied, inclining his head slightly. “I’ve been staying in an inn as of late. It’s… expensive.”
“Very good. You can move in as soon as you like,” she said, brushing a few strands of Liora’s hair back with careful claws. “Feel free to take whichever room you want, excluding a few I’ve reserved for other purposes.”
He blinked at her, slowly. “Excuse me?”
“Did you not hear me?” Vivienne tilted her head, feigning confusion, lips quirking. “Pick whichever room you like. You’ll be cooking, cleaning, and feeding Liora twice a week—well, once, if my second candidate agrees to share the burden. And this is a large manor. I have no desire to micromanage where you rest your head.”
“I… I see,” he said, caught off guard. His ears flicked, and his jaw worked silently for a moment as if turning over how to respond.
Vivienne smiled, all calm amusement, watching the hairline fractures form in his previously unshakable composure. She could smell the confusion, the caution, the faint buzz of overwhelmed relief. Unsettling with kindness, she thought with faint delight. I really must do this more often.
“When can you start?” she asked.
“Immediately, madam,” he said with more confidence than before, though his posture remained stiff.
“Very good. Off you go then, Corven. I’ve got another interview lined up, and you’ve got a room to pick out.” She rose fluidly to her feet, cradling Liora as she moved. With a faintly theatrical bow, she gestured toward the hall.
The man stood quickly, offered a respectful nod, and took his leave with only a slight tremor in his steps.
Vivienne let out a quiet hum of satisfaction and gently rocked Liora in her arms.
“What did you think of him, sweetheart?” she asked softly as she headed back toward the sitting room.
“He seemed a little scared,” murmured Liora, voice hazy and small.
Vivienne chuckled under her breath. “Mm. Good instincts, mijita. But I think he’ll be just fine.”
Vivienne leaned into the hallway, cradling Liora with one arm while the other braced on the doorframe. Her tail swayed behind her, lazy and unhurried, though her sharp black eyes were already appraising the next applicant.
She poked her head through the doorway and found the woman sitting stiffly on the edge of a bench—young, far younger than the man she'd just spoken to. Waifish, pale, with a nervous kind of energy coiled tight in her shoulders. She looked like she might bolt if a breeze came in too strong.
“Your turn,” Vivienne said smoothly, voice like warm silk over hidden glass. She smiled just enough to bare a hint of fang, then quickly dialed it back, resisting the temptation to draw a squeak out of the girl. No, no. You’re trying to hire her, not haunt her.
The young woman startled slightly but stood, smoothing out the front of her worn tunic. Her hands trembled, just barely.
Vivienne sighed inwardly. The things I do for a functional household. With a deep breath, she stepped aside and gestured for the girl to enter the sitting room.
“Come on in,” she said with a softer lilt. “Let’s have a little chat, shall we?”
The young woman nodded quickly—too quickly—and stepped into the sitting room, her steps small and cautious like she expected the floor to vanish beneath her. Vivienne settled back into her chair with Liora nestled in her lap, watching the girl with patient amusement as she perched on the edge of the opposite seat like it might bite her.
“Name?” Vivienne asked, tone light, but her eyes never stopped studying.
“Ah—Mera,” the girl said, voice breathy. “Mera Talin, miss.”
Vivienne tilted her head, gently stroking Liora’s curls as she regarded her. “You’re young, Mera Talin. Have you worked in a manor before?”
“Yes, miss. For a noble family on the western side of the city. Only for a year. I—I cleaned, mostly. Helped in the kitchens sometimes. They didn’t keep many staff.”
“And why did you leave?”
Mera hesitated. “They… left the city. Fled, I think. Something about debts and, um… taxes. I wasn’t told much.”
Vivienne smiled faintly, showing just the hint of a fang. “Mm. Sounds noble, all right.”
Mera’s hands twisted in her lap.
“And you want to work here? With me?” Vivienne asked, leaning forward just slightly, enough to let the shadow catch on the curve of her horns, the glint of her eyes.
Mera blinked, hesitated—but then nodded. “Yes, miss. I need work. I—I’m not afraid.”
“Oh, sweetheart,” Vivienne purred, grinning wide again, “you absolutely are. I can smell it on you.”
Mera paled a shade, but didn’t bolt. That was something.
“But,” Vivienne continued, voice easing, “you didn’t run. That counts in your favor.”
Liora stirred slightly in her lap, and Vivienne quieted her with a soft hum, then turned her gaze back to Mera.
“I need help with cleaning, cooking, and tending to the house. I pay well—more than most—and you’ll have two days off each week. If you’re willing, I may ask you to help feed my daughter. It’s a strange process, and not always pleasant. If you say no, I won’t hold it against you. But if you say yes, you get extra gold and the following day off.”
Mera blinked. “Feed her? I—I heard something about that, but… I don’t understand.”
“You don’t need to. Just know it’s harmless. Disturbing, perhaps. But harmless. We’d visit you in your sleep. You’d wake up tired. But you’d wake up.”
Mera swallowed but nodded. “If it helps… I’ll try.”
Vivienne’s grin softened to something more genuine. “You might do well here, Mera Talin.”
“Do… do I get a room, too?”
“Yes. Pick whichever you like that isn’t already occupied. You’ll be living here, so you may as well be comfortable.”
Mera looked stunned. “I… I don’t know what to say.”
“‘Thank you, mistress Vivienne’ tends to work,” Vivienne teased.
“Thank you, mistress Vivienne,” Mera said, stumbling a little over the words.
Vivienne waved her off with a flick of her claws. “Go settle in. I’ll call for you when I need something.”
Mera stood, bowed awkwardly, and scurried from the room.
Once she was gone, Vivienne looked down at her daughter, who had been quietly watching the whole time.
“Well? What’s your verdict?”
Liora blinked slowly. “She’s small. Like a leaf.”
Vivienne chuckled. “Let’s hope she doesn’t blow away.”
“Yeah, this’ll do. For the first one, at least,” said Kivvy, planting her hands on her hips as she surveyed the room with a sharp nod. It had high ceilings, two tall windows that let in the morning light, and enough floor space to lay out a forge or workbenches with room to spare. Dust motes danced in the beams of light, but Kivvy didn’t seem to notice. Her mind was already miles ahead, picturing blueprints and shelving.
“Oh, already making widespread plans for my manor,” Vivienne drawled from behind, a playful lilt in her voice as her tail curled lazily through the air.
“Psh, like you were going to do anything with it,” Kivvy shot back, flashing a smirk over her shoulder. “Couple of rooms dedicated to crafting should be fine. Plus, you promised.”
“I did promise,” Vivienne admitted with a shrug, stepping farther into the room, her claws clicking lightly on the wooden floor. “And I have no qualms about it. The more lively this place is, the better. I might have to think about charging board at some point, though. I can feed the goblins out of pocket for a while, but I don’t exactly count amongst the super rich.”
Kivvy snorted. “Sure, that’s fair. I’ll try to get my sisters situated so they can start earning their own coin. Maybe a few might even find jobs in the city, if they can stand the surface folk. How long can they stay?”
Vivienne folded her arms under her chest, black eyes glittering with amusement. “As long as they want. I want my little Li to be around people, and she likes those you’ve taken under your wing. It’s good for her to see more than just me. Or… me covered in blood.”
“Fair enough,” Kivvy said with a grin, glancing down at a faded rug half-rolled in the corner. “We’ll make it a proper den. Give her a real home, not just a safehouse.” She tilted her head at Vivienne.
Vivienne watched her quietly for a moment, her voice softening. “Thank you for staying.”
Kivvy waved her off. “You kidding? I’m not passing up free rent and a live-in nightmare queen with deep pockets. We’re all in this together now.”
“I am being taken advantage of! The sheer audacity!” Vivienne declared with a theatrical flourish, though the smirk tugging at her lips gave her away.
Kivvy crossed her arms, unimpressed. “You promised.”
“I did,” Vivienne said with a sigh, lounging against the doorframe. “And I’ll keep that promise. I have a contact I’ll reach out to—he can get materials, equipment, even have things built if needed. Give me a list of what you want and I’ll see it done.”
Kivvy gave a low whistle. “I’m going to bleed you dry then.”
Vivienne grinned wide, exposing far too many sharp teeth. “Bold.”
“You’re not gonna hurt me,” Kivvy shot back, raising a brow. “You already said. You’re soft for me.”
“I said I wouldn’t hurt you, yes,” Vivienne said, her voice silky. “But if your requests get ridiculous, I reserve the right to mock you mercilessly.”
“Deal,” Kivvy laughed. “I’ll keep it reasonable. Probably.”
Vivienne tilted her head slightly. “And are these workshops just for you? Or are you going to be playing den mother again and let the others tinker?”
Kivvy shrugged. “If any of my sisters want in, they’ll help. But yeah, I’ll be the one putting this one to use. They can have the other one. Gotta get us some income somehow. I’m not letting them leech off you forever.”
Vivienne waved her hand dismissively. “You can let them leech for now. I’m not a miser. Just give me the list and I’ll get the wheels turning.”
“On it.” Kivvy grinned. “I’ll have it by tonight. Hope your contact’s ready to be annoyed.”
Vivienne’s grin curled wider. “Darling, she’ll live.”
With a soft creak of the floorboards under her steps, Vivienne made her way upstairs to the second level, her tail swaying lazily behind her. The manor was quiet, save for the occasional distant clink of tools or footsteps echoing faintly from the goblins below. She stopped outside Liora’s room, pausing for a moment to listen.
Inside, she could hear her daughter’s voice—faint, tired, but determinedly chattering away. It brought a faint smile to her lips.
She pushed the door open gently.
Renzia was seated beside the bed, still as ever. The mannequin’s faceless head was tilted slightly toward Liora, who lay nestled in a small sea of pillows and blankets, her little clawed fingers twitching slightly as she spoke. Whatever she was talking about, Renzia was listening with the eerie stillness that defined her—silent, attentive, unmoving.
The moment Vivienne stepped into the room, Renzia rose with mechanical grace and gave a deep curtsy, lowering her head and holding the motion far longer than necessary.
Vivienne sighed and waved her off. “Sit. I have a few things I want to ask you.”
Without hesitation, Renzia dropped back down—onto the floor, legs folded beneath her in an instant, like a puppet collapsing into a kneel.
Vivienne rolled her eyes and gestured to the chair across from her with a clawed hand. “I meant on one of the seats, not the floor.”
“Yes, miss-tress,” Renzia intoned in her disjointed voice, rising again and moving to the chair with jerky but obedient steps. She sat upright, hands neatly folded in her lap, posture too perfect to be natural.
Liora looked up at her mother, then smiled. “Hi mommy.”
Vivienne leaned over and kissed her daughter’s forehead, careful not to disturb the tangled mess of blankets. “Hi sweetheart. You been behaving?”
“She told me a story,” Liora said, her voice soft and sluggish. “It was about a princess in a tower. But the tower was alive.”
Vivienne raised an eyebrow and glanced at Renzia. “You’re getting creative.”
Renzia gave a subtle nod. “Liora-requested-something...strange.”
“I like strange,” Liora murmured with a little grin.
Vivienne settled into the chair across from Renzia, claws drumming once on the armrest. “Good. Now, Renzia—how are you finding the manor so far? Anything broken I haven’t noticed yet?”
Renzia tilted her head a fraction. “Several hinges-loose. Floorboard-cracked. Dust-in-hidden-vents. Basement...airflow-bad.”
Vivienne nodded slowly. “I see you’ve been doing your rounds.”
“I am he-re to ser-ve.”
Vivienne gave a thoughtful hum, her gaze drifting to Liora. Her daughter lay still on the bed, limbs neatly folded, dark eyes half-lidded but alert. Her mouth moved faintly, a whisper of words trailing off mid-thought—she was still listening, still present, even if her body couldn’t do much more than rest. There was no sleep in her kind, not truly, and Vivienne had never expected her to simply drift off. Still, it warmed her to see Liora content, soothed by the quiet company and the slow cadence of a conversation around her.
Turning her attention back to Renzia, Vivienne leaned into the arm of the chair. “I wanted to ask if there was anything you wanted,” she said. “You mentioned before you were interested in making dresses. Still true?”
Renzia’s head gave a slow, mechanical nod. It wasn’t hesitant—just deliberate, like every motion had to pass through some strange internal system of gears and willpower before it manifested.
“Good,” Vivienne said, her tone lighter now. “Then I want a list. Tools, fabrics, a workspace if you need one. Whatever it takes. I’ll make sure you get it.”
“Yes, miss-tress,” came the response, simple and immediate.
Vivienne tilted her head slightly. “Not that I’m doing this out of charity,” she added with a faint grin. “If you make something good, I want to see you in it.”
Renzia made no reply to that, though the slight shift in her posture might’ve been a reaction—Vivienne couldn’t quite tell with her. Still, it was amusing.
“Anyway,” she went on, standing and stretching her arms behind her head with a lazy sigh, “I was about to go visit Ardyn. I want them to put something together for Liora—somthing decent for her to wear. If you want to tag along, I won’t stop you.”
Renzia straightened with the sudden alertness of a doll springing to life. “Yes ple-ase, miss-tress.”
Vivienne chuckled at her eagerness and waved her toward the door. “Come along then. I can kill two birds with one stone this way.”
Renzia tilted her head. “We are kill-ing birds?”
Vivienne laughed again, striding over to Liora and slipping her arms beneath her daughter with an ease born of habit. She lifted her gently, cradling the girl against her chest. “It’s an old idiom from my birthplace. It just means doing two things at once. No birds. Probably.”
“I like birds,” Liora murmured, her voice muffled against Vivienne’s collarbone.
“I know you do, sweetheart. I’ll be nice to them,” Vivienne promised, rubbing a slow circle into her daughter’s back with one clawed hand. “You ready to come with us?”
Liora nodded faintly.
“Good. Let’s get moving, then,” Vivienne said as she turned toward the door, Renzia falling into step behind her like a silent shadow.