Chapter Text
You offer yourself for the job.
There is nothing left for you in the village, but the thought of abandoning it is too much to bear. Your loyalty to your birthplace, to the land where your parents are buried, might be your ultimate demise, but you don't care much about it when you have nothing left to lose. If death should come for you, you would rather be home when it takes you, and you would rather your body be laid to rest alongside the rest of your family, in the place where you were born and raised.
The opportunity isn't too bad, too. House Beneviento might be unsafe - at least, you think so, there aren't really enough rumors about this specific Lord compared to the others - but so is your small home in the heart of the village. The lycan attacks are getting worse, and the women that linger here tend to end up either dead or recruited - forcefully, dragged by their hair, with no other choice - to become maids to Lady Dimitrescu in her terrifying castle as her other maids seem to disappear inside the walls of her home consistently, their bodies never recovered.
Her daughters, you hear, are feral little creatures with an insatiable appetite, and utterly responsible for all the mysterious disappearances inside their home. You're yet to cross paths with any of them, though maybe that's the exact reason why you're still alive. As far as the whispers in the village say, you don't survive an encounter with Lady Dimitrescu's daughters. And from the way they speak of Lady Dimitrescu herself, you're probably right to assume that her daughters have inherited their bloodlust from their mother.
So, when one of Lady Dimitrescu's maids comes to the village to find a maid for House Beneviento as a favor from her Lady to the other Lord, you offer yourself for the job.
The dismay on her face should probably make you feel frightened about your decision, but you find it hard to feel anything these days. You refuse to think too hard about the way she follows you to your home as if afraid you might change your mind and run away before she can hand you to the Lord - and by the way no one else seemed interested in the idea of working for Lady Beneviento, some even attempting to escape without being seen, maybe she has a reason to glue herself to the only one who did. You organize your belongings in a small bag, throw a warmer coat over your shoulders, and follow the maid into the woods without any goodbyes. There are no friends of yours left here anyway, and you're just glad to leave the emptiness behind.
The maid is nervous, you notice. Her voice trembles as she explains that Lady Beneviento has requested a maid, and Lady Dimitrescu was tasked with helping her get one. Your work should be simple, she swears, to clean and to obey the Lady. If you remain obedient, there might be nothing to fear, or at least that's what she says when trying to convince you that you'll be completely safe in a house that belongs to one of the Lords.
"It was my luck that you offered." She said brightly, face twisting into something panicked just a second later. "Otherwise, I would have to take someone-"
She squeaks like a scared mouse, stopping herself before she says something she shouldn't. She doesn't speak anymore after that, simply skipping through the path to House Beneviento with her maddening gaze looking everywhere for threats. Fortunately, almost as if they don't belong in this territory, the path is devoid of any lycans - or something worse, like certain daughters of a certain Lady - and you manage to make it to the house just before sunset, stopping in your tracks when you reach it.
While Castle Dimitrescu loomed over the village, tall and intimidating and seen from every angle, House Beneviento was rather simple in comparison, standing nearly on the edge of the land close to a waterfall that dulled every other sound with its rushing water, its existence nearly hidden by the tall trees surrounding it.
And for the first time since you accepted the job, you feel nervous.
Maybe it's all the time spent alongside Lady Dimitrescu's anxious maid, who stays behind when you start making your way to the door, or maybe your confidence is simply waning now that you're so far away from home. Either way, when you notice you're walking alone, your gaze turns to the maid's wide-eyed one in expectation. "What-"
"You go ahead. Knock on the door, and introduce yourself. Lady Beneviento is waiting for you." She says, already stepping back to the gates of the house as if hoping to make a swift exit away before you could think to stop her.
You watch, perplexed, as she seems to forfeit her attempt to pretend everything was fine when you take too long to turn back, and with nervous eyes and shaky hands, she turns and practically sprints away back to the path leading to the village, leaving you alone on the porch of a house that almost seemed abandoned in its loneliness.
You blink, standing there dumbfounded for a good minute. When you turn back to the house, it's with a new layer of hesitation. That woman worked for Lady Dimitrescu herself, who wasn't exactly known for her kindness, and yet it was the proximity to Lady Beneviento's home that made her flee like stalked prey. Certainly, that isn't good news for you.
Certainly, you should turn your back on this place and go back to the village, right?
You stare at the door for a second that stretches into minutes, feeling your bravery slowly seep out of you now that you stand in front of the home of one of the four Lords. The wind picks up, lashing your face with the coldness of winter, and you wonder if you should just let nature do the job of killing you before the owner of this land has the opportunity to do so.
The decision is made for you, however, as the front door slowly creaks open. You startle at the sound, approaching it in careful steps despite the layers of fear rushing through you. "Uhm, hello?" You speak up once you reach the threshold, eyeing the inside of the house carefully. The dark wooden floors stretch into an entrance hall with stairs leading to the second floor on the right, and the place itself seems empty, though you can see traces of someone living in it as an absurd number of teacups litter every possible surface.
You take another step, wincing when your feet make contact with the inside of Lady Beneviento's home. The maid had said to knock on the door and introduce yourself, not to walk through a door that apparently opened on its own without receiving any invitation. Still, you power through your fears into the house, slowly walking inside with your gaze flicking around in search of any movement. There are some dolls around, you notice with unease, and all of them seem to have their eyes on you. It's unsettling. "Is anyone home?"
You see it, then, something moving out of the corner of your eye, and when you turn around to look at it, all you see is another doll.
It's different from the others, with big eyes staring lifelessly into yours and a wedding dress covering its body. The doll sits on the floor in front of the open door, veil swishing wildly due to the wind entering the house, and despite the danger of locking yourself inside this place you rush to close the door, taken by some weird urge to protect it from the cold even if it can't feel it.
With a shaky breath, and the knowledge that there may be worse things lurking outside, you twist the key to properly lock the door, ignoring the awful feeling at the pit of your stomach that says you've just sealed your fate.
When you turn back around, the doll is standing and looking at you, and you glance around to search for whoever was messing with you by moving it around. There are no strings keeping the doll up, and the house is eerily quiet despite the waterfall. The place looks completely empty, you notice anxiously.
In front of you, the doll slowly tips forward until it falls on its face as if it had been lightly pushed, and you slowly approach to pick it up, gingerly holding the back of its neck as you raise it to take a good look at its features.
You barely have time to react.
It screams on your face, loud and sharp, making you drop it with a startled gasp and a fearful scream of your own. Your feet skid on the floor in your haste to get away from it, and you hear the doll cackling while you lose your balance. As you fall, all you see is the doll bending in laughter before your head hits the wall, and through the darkness slowly taking your vision as pain flares from the back of your head, you watch it stop to regard you with eyes that almost seem worried.
"Oh-oh." It says like a child that just did something they shouldn't.
You pass out before you see anything else.
· · ─ ·✶· ─ · ·
"I was just kidding, Donna!" You hear a whiny voice complain loudly as you start to wake up. "You know I didn't mean to break her!"
"Silence." Another voice, softer and calmer, admonishes. It must be Donna, you think, whoever this is. The name is pretty, and so is the voice. You wonder who she is. You wonder what she might look like.
As far as you're aware, House Beneviento didn't have anyone living in it apart from Lady Beneviento.
The first voice fills with despair. "Are you mad?"
The owner of the second voice sighs, seemingly deciding to ignore their friend, and you tilt your head toward the sound as your eyes slowly blink open.
There's a woman in the room, dressed in black from head to toe, and she's sitting on a chair with her back to you while doing something with the items on top of a large table full of tools. There are lots of dolls littered around, in different states of completion, though your gaze drifts to a specific one standing on the table with its arms crossed and a pouty look on its face while it stares down at the woman.
"Donna!" It whines again, sad and miserable. "Are you mad at me?"
You blink at the weird sight, trying to make sense of what you're seeing. Sure, there are a lot of weird things happening around this village, but a talking doll? No way.
You must be hallucinating. There is no other explanation.
Unfortunately, the doll seems to notice your attention on her, and you yelp when it rushes to you, jumping from the table down to the floor before skidding toward a chair next to the - and you wish you were kidding - autopsy bed you're lying on. "You're awake!" It says, as if happy about it. "I didn't hurt you, did I?" You gape at her, unsure of what to say or how to feel about a doll speaking to you. The doll seems not to care about your reaction, standing on the chair to have a proper look at you. "You beat your head pretty hard when you fell. It was quite funny to watch-"
"Angie." The woman's voice was cutting, a warning all over it. You feel goosebumps arise in your skin at the sound, though the doll - Angie, you guess - seems unpreoccupied by it.
"Donna!" Angie whines again.
"Leave."
To your surprise - and even some delight - the doll huffs but still jumps from the chair and slowly walks toward a door you hadn't noticed before. You watch as the door slides open for her, and Angie stops in one last effort to convince the woman to let her stay, somehow managing to pout with her little doll face as she stares up at the woman's back.
"Now." The woman says more forcefully.
Angie finally leaves, muttering complaints that echo through the hallway as the door closes behind her, and you're left alone with the woman in the strange room.
Your eyes drag toward her, and your lips part with a question that you don't feel brave enough to ask. Instead, you push yourself up on the cold metallic bed, settling on a sitting position with a grunt of discomfort, which earns you a disapproving sound from her.
She rises, then. You watch as she turns around to regard you and blink in surprise to find her face covered in a veil. Now that you can see her properly, you notice her clothes look like mourning garbs - a direct contrast to Angie's flowing wedding dress. The black nearly consumes her, and the only hint of skin you are able to see is her pale hands as they rest in front of her body. "Are you in pain?" She asks, her voice softening as she addresses you. She sounds tired, you notice.
You hesitate, reaching a hand toward the back of your head. There's a slight bump, and it hurts a bit, but you feel okay. "Uhm, no, I'm fine."
"Good." She lets out a sigh, almost as if relieved. "Am I right to assume you're my new maid?"
Her new maid?
Oh.
Your eyes widen upon the revelation, and you rush out of bed to get on your feet. The action makes you nauseous as vertigo hits you hard, but you know this might be the least bad thing you'll endure if you step out of line with one of the Lords. Once you're standing, you bend with your head down in greeting. "Yes, I am your new maid, Lady Beneviento, I apologize for not introducing myself properly." You rush to say, wincing when you finish bowing.
Lady Beneviento regards you in silence, remaining so still that one could confuse her for a statue. You're not sure if she's actually staring at you since the veil covers her entire face, but you have the impression her eyes are on you all the same. It's a heavy feeling of being observed, making you feel uneasy.
You hope she isn't too angry about what happened when you arrive.
An angry Lord is never good news.
Finally, she sighs, shaking her head gently as if to disperse some stray thoughts. "Angie will take you to your room and explain what is needed of you." She says, clearly done with the conversation, and as if by magic you hear the door behind you slide open, the telltale sign of Angie's footsteps approaching you.
"Yeah, come on now." The doll says when she reaches you, round eyes staring up at you. "I promise I won't try to kill you again."
She cackles then as if she had just told you the funniest joke, the sound reverberating like a sickening melody. You have to force yourself to follow the doll out of the room when she starts making her way out, giving one last curtsy to Lady Beneviento before you skip after Angie. She's babbling away already when you catch up.
"-clean every room! It's been a while since we had a maid around here, so the house needs a lot of cleaning. Don't go into the basement unless you want to die. The first and second floors are available to you, though. Don't go snooping around unless you want to die, and don't let the other dolls mess with you."
She guides you to the entrance hall, where she nearly scared you to death, and continues on her path to the stairs. You pause when you reach it, eyes falling on a beautiful portrait hanging on the wall. From the clothes alone, as well as the fact that Angie sits comfortably on her lap, you take a guess that the beautiful woman you're seeing in dark shades of expensive paint is probably Lady Beneviento, devoid of her veil.
Your gaze drags through the details of her face. Dark eyes that seem to stare into your soul, full lips, arched eyebrows, and even darker hair tied up at the back of her head that falls on her face in soft strands, and you decide that the woman you're seeing definitely matches her pretty voice. Without meaning to, you find yourself leaning closer to the painting to analyze every tiny detail. "Beautiful." You murmur, incapable of guessing why someone like this would hide their face behind a veil.
"Are you done ogling?" You blink, turning your head to the unimpressed doll who waits for you. Angie tilts her head when she has your attention, regarding you with unblinking round eyes as if she could peer into your soul. "Come on, you can waste time looking at the portrait after I finish explaining everything."
She wobbles away, almost leaving you behind, and you rush after her as she leads you to a room on the second floor. There's a single bed waiting for you there, and your bag is on the floor beside it. Angie nods resolutely, pointing a finger to the mostly empty room. "You sleep here. You clean the house for us. And-" She pauses, turning to you with an expression far too serious for a doll, her tiny finger pointed to you instead. "You play with me."
"I have to play with you?"
"Yes." Angie nods, the action firm and unyielding. You're not about to argue with her, especially since Lady Beneviento seemed to trust the doll to give you the necessary instructions.
"Alright."
Somehow, her expression is happier when you agree.
"Good. Now go to sleep, you have a lot to do tomorrow."
Angie leaves you without another word, ambling away without a second glance. The door, as if by magic, closes behind her without her even reaching for it, and you take the moment alone to take a look at your new room in your new home.
Already, you can see things you need to do in it, spots where time created thick layers of dust that are bound to give you an allergic reaction if you don't clean up. The rest of the house, you guess, must be in a similar state, and you start to understand why Lady Beneviento decided to get a maid.
Some part of you wonders if your bedroom door was also magically locked and if you would manage to make it to the front door and escape in the dark of the night back to the village. Surely, even if you managed to do it, someone would look for you. Nobody disrespected a Lord without consequences, and that thought is what makes you settle on top of the mattress.
Well, at least you survived your first hours here, even if they weren't what you expected.
Talking dolls, beautiful women hiding their faces behind dark veils, a Lady that seems somehow both terrifyingly dangerous and pleasant enough to spend time around.
You hope to survive the week as well.
· · ─ ·✶· ─ · ·
When the morning comes, you start your new job by grabbing every teacup from every room. It's an excellent plan as it lets you take a tour of the places you're allowed in. The hard part is carrying all of it to the kitchen, something you have to do on multiple trips to lower the risk of breaking such fine porcelain.
You have no idea how one person can own so many teacups.
You lose count by the time you grab fourteen, and there are still some rooms you need to check for them. You're bewildered as you carry five more from the living room, stopping in your tracks when you enter the kitchen to find someone in front of the stove.
"Uhm, good morning, Lady Beneviento." You speak up, approaching her slowly to leave the teacups in the sink. The Lady tilts her head toward the sound of your voice, humming in answer, and you wince at the sound of porcelain knocking against porcelain when you set the cups down. "Ah, my apologies, I didn't know you would be awake so early. Would you like me to cook you breakfast, my Lady?"
You feel a kick to the shin as soon as the words leave your mouth, groaning in pain at the feeling, and look down to find Angie giving you a dirty look. "What do you think you're doing?" She asks, her tone nearly haughty, certainly admonishing. "I told you Donna does all the cooking."
You don't remember her saying that.
Then again, you did remember her rambling around while you stared at the portrait like an enchanted idiot. The memory makes your skin warm up, and your gaze shifts toward Lady Beneviento for a split second. The Lady seems content to remain quiet, chopping fruits as if she wasn't even listening to the conversation, though you notice the way her head is angled toward you and Angie.
"Oh, my apologies, Lady Beneviento."
"What about my apology?" Angie shrieks, tiny arms crossed in defiance.
Grumbling, you yield. "Sorry, Angie."
"That's better." She nods, satisfied. "Started with the teacups, hm? That's a good plan, might take you all day to find all of them, though."
You glance between the growing pile on the sink and the unimpressed doll.
Angie, to no surprise, doesn't seem to care.
She goes toward a small table, settling on a chair that has three pillows stacked on top of it, which manages to allow her to stay just tall enough to glare at you.
And Lady Beneviento acts like everything is normal when she sets a plate with breakfast in front of Angie, who hums as if excited to start eating.
"Sit, please." The Lady requests when she approaches you again, pale hands lingering on another two plates, and you glance between her and the table with what you're sure is a dazzled expression. Certainly, the Lady doesn't want you to eat your meal here with her?
"With you?"
"Duh!" Angie bellows.
You move to the table, slowly taking your spot beside Angie. The sight of the Lady settling your plate in front of you makes you feel weird, knowing that as her maid, it's something you should be doing for her instead, and you hesitate while she sits across from you, mindlessly picking up her cutlery to start eating.
When you're almost sure this isn't a trap - and too hungry to care if it is - you dig into your own food.
It's delicious.
No, delicious doesn't quite describe it. It's like nothing you've ever eaten in the village, where most people didn't have enough money to get the best ingredients. The taste in your mouth is fresh, seasoned, and too good to be true, and you have to swallow a satisfied moan upon sampling it.
You attempt not to rush through the meal, summoning years of memories of your parents chastising you about chewing properly and eating politely, and hope it's not too obvious that you're mimicking Lady Beneviento's composure while you eat.
You try not to stare at her too much, too. The Lady is still wearing her veil, and you watch from the corner of your eye as she uses one hand to move the veil away just enough for the other hand, holding a food-filled fork, to bring the meal to her mouth.
Angie, on the other hand, seems happy to make a mess out of her face with food she's clearly not really eating.
(You hope not to be tasked with the job of cleaning her face when she's done.)
(Despite only knowing her for a day, you just know she would probably try to bite your finger off just for fun.)
You finish the meal too soon and rush to your feet to take your plate to the sink. When you attempt to do the same for the Lady, she waves you off, before taking the plate to the sink herself. The action makes you feel unsettled, and you wonder how long it may take you to get used to her routine and habits.
"You can take my plate." Angie speaks up, waving to her mess.
You do it dutifully.
The Lady walks away while you start cleaning the table, wordlessly gliding down the hallway like a ghost, and Angie ambles after her with too much to say about the food she cooked, despite never tasting it. The compliments flow through the walls, and you're surprised to find yourself agreeing with most of them.
You stay behind to wash the dishes, filling an empty cabinet with most of the teacups before you continue on your mission to gather more, and one look at it makes you decide to clean up the kitchen just enough to make it better for when Lady Beneviento arrives to cook lunch, hoping it's the right choice to prioritize a place the Lady clearly spends a good chunk of time in.
It's the neatest room in the house so far, so it's easy to clean and organize it. You find even more teacups in multiple cabinets and gather them all to put them in the same one so it's easier for the Lady to find them. By the time you're done, Lady Beneviento is already making her way back to start cooking lunch, and you watch as she pauses in the doorway to observe the room when she finds you setting a flowery tablecloth on the wooden table in the hopes of making it look nicer.
"Good job." It's all she says, tipping her head in a subtle nod.
You feel pride rushing through your entire body at the acknowledgment.
You leave her alone after that, rushing out to grab more and more teacups, and it's Angie who comes to fetch you when you take too long to come back. "Lunch is ready."
You follow Angie back into the kitchen, where Lady Beneviento sits on the same chair as before, the plate in front of her remains untouched until you and Angie sit down, and lunch is as delicious as breakfast was.
(And in Angie's case, as messy.)
You wash the dishes again before continuing to do your work, and it's nearly dinner time when Angie finds you sweeping the floors of the entrance hall. The doll sits on the couch, watching you closely in a way that is nearly too quiet, and you will yourself to keep your gaze away from her - and the beautiful portrait looming over you from its spot on the wall - to focus on your work instead.
"What did you think of your first day here?" Angie finally asks after the silence stretches for too long, and you pause your work to look at her. The sky outside is darkening with the beginning of the night, which means you've officially spent your first twenty-four hours inside House Beneviento.
(And you're still alive, which feels like a small victory.)
You think about your answer, trying to string together words that won't offend Angie or Lady Beneviento. Though you find it hard to find reasons to offend them at all. Sure, Angie nearly gave you a concussion on your very first day, and she was very demanding for a talking little doll, but overall? It's good.
Unexpectedly good.
You thought you would be walking inside a house full of traps, with dark secrets and life-threatening expectations lurking around.
Instead, you would go as far as to describe Lady Beneviento and her home as nice.
Maybe, you think to yourself, the reason why Lady Beneviento lacks the same bloody rumors surrounding Lady Dimitrescu and her daughters is that she's actually a decent person.
Or, at least, you hope so.
"It's good." You answer at last.
Angie stares at you in silence. It's clear she expects more from you, an honest opinion, maybe even an entire review of the place, just to entertain her. You wouldn't be surprised about it. Still, you don't elaborate, and the doll seems to grow tired of waiting. "What do you think of Donna?"
Your hesitation isn't missed by Angie, who seems to almost glow with delight. You don't know Lady Beneviento enough; it's only been a few hours, and you barely spent any of them with her. The opinions you do have of her, however, might be better kept to yourself.
The way her voice was so nice to listen to. The way her face, at least in the portrait, looked so beautiful. The way her fingers were so elegant.
"Lady Beneviento seems like a good boss."
"Just good?" Angie insists.
You remain quiet. She gets tired of waiting for an answer.
"Well, come on then, dinner is ready."
This time, the kitchen is empty. Lady Beneviento is nowhere to be seen, though two plates with warm food are on top of the table. You don't question her absence, unsure if it would be a good idea to question your Lady's whereabouts when they were none of your business, and Angie doesn't give you any explanations unprompted. The doll disappears after you finish eating, and you wash the dishes before retiring to bed. The house is quiet as the night arrives, and after working the entire day sleep comes easily to you.
The next day, things are the same. Except Lady Beneviento is still missing from the meals. The food is there when you arrive, summoned by Angie every time, but the Lady is nowhere to be seen, and it remains so the entire day. If she's somewhere in the house, you're unaware of it, and one could easily think you and Angie were the only people inhabiting House Beneviento.
The doll divides her time between clinging to you while you clean and disappearing with the same capability as her owner. At night, she asks your opinion of the Lady again.
Your answer is the same, an almost robotic repetition of words.
On the third day, Angie decides she let you have enough time to clean without giving her attention, and she orders you into a game of hide and seek that lasts for hours. She's always hiding, you're always seeking, and you're sweating by the time she's scared you into finding her for the fourth time. The other dolls seem more alive than ever when you play with one of their own, and you spend the entire day with a feeling of being observed while you search for Angie. It's not exactly a terrible feeling, and you think you might have to grow used to it sooner rather than later.
Lady Beneviento is still missing.
The week goes by. The house gets cleaner. You grow used to the routine of your new home when something changes.
There's a frantic knocking on the door just before lunch, and you answer with no small amount of confusion. As far as you're aware, and according to Angie, no one comes anywhere near Lady Beneviento's home, so a guest would be entirely unexpected.
It's not a guest. Instead, a maid with the same clothes as the one who brought you here stands on the other side. She shifts on her feet nervously, glancing between you and the inside of the house. She doesn't say anything when you ask her what she wants, simply holding out a piece of paper to you, which you recognize as a letter when you grab it.
With her job dutifully done, she turns her back on you without another word, almost running away from the house. Your eyes drop to the letter in your hands, peering at it curiously.
The Dimitrescu sigil greets you, stamped on the front of it with dark red wax, and you recognize the sound of the footsteps approaching from behind before you even turn to look at her.
Angie looks between you, standing by the open door in the cold, and the empty porch outside for a long moment as if judging your mental health. You wonder if she thinks you might be considering running away, or if the doll just thinks you're stupid.
Then, her eyes settle on the letter, and you swear they almost shine. She jumps on her tiny feet, almost dancing in joy. "Oh, Bela sent a letter! Gimme! Gimme!"
You hand it to her as she makes grabby hands toward you, and she skips away in a fit of giggling madness, clutching the letter close to her chest as if it were the most precious thing she had ever held.
You watch her go, blinking owlishly at the sight of her happiness, your mind trying to make sense of the absurd amount of glee Angie showed over a letter.
From Bela, she said, whoever it was.
By dinner, Lady Beneviento is back in the kitchen with you, enjoying her meal as if she hadn't been gone for days. You think your attempts to keep your gaze away from her aren't successful, but the Lady either doesn't seem to care or doesn't seem to notice. Beside you, Angie is still shaking with glee as she drops the sauce all over the front of her dress.
"Is the food to your taste?"
You blink when you notice the question is aimed at you, averting your eyes from the Lady's veil-clad head to look down at the spaghetti on your plate. It's the first time she's tried to make small talk with you, and it's probably the most words she ever directed at you. You feel shy under her attention. "Yes, my Lady." You answer dutifully, politely. "You are an excellent cook."
You hope the compliment isn't too much, too friendly for a maid. Lady Beneviento hums in response but doesn't answer you. Beside you, Angie side-eyes you, and you almost think there's something satisfied in the doll's expression. You stare at your plate for the rest of the meal, ignoring the urge you feel to continue looking at the woman on the other side of the table, and the frantic need to hear her voice again.
What the hell is happening to you?
· · ─ ·✶· ─ · ·
The letters continue to arrive, and Angie's excitement over them only grows. When the same tired maid brings two letters one day, you're afraid the doll might combust in a fit of uncontrollable glee. "Oh, Daniela sent one, too!" She says as if on the verge of crying, almost tripping on her way to hand the letters to Lady Beneviento. The sight is oddly cute, or maybe you're just starting to like the demanding little doll enough to not find her irritating anymore.
The Lady remains mostly quiet, only speaking to you when needed. There are rare moments when she seems to find you cleaning the rooms while she makes her way around the house like a ghost, and she always compliments your work when that happens. You're just happy to be able to walk into the many rooms without sneezing, or at least that's what you say to yourself when you start feeling too happy about the small shows of appreciation. It's not a good idea to feel anything but fear of the Lord. Any form of attachment can lead to either your heart or your neck broken.
"Hey, are you listening to me?" You feel a kick to the shin, groaning in pain. You glare at Angie as she stands near you, glaring right back. "Donna wants tea."
You just look at her, tilting your head in confusion. "So...?"
"So make some for her!" Angie stares at you as if you're stupid, and you wince at her tone. Right, obviously, if the Lady wants tea then it's your job as her maid to provide some.
It's just unexpected. Lady Beneviento has never asked for tea before, though you're sure she's been drinking some because you're still finding dirty teacups to wash every day.
Kindly, you think, she's been bringing them to the sink herself, instead of leaving them scattered in every room of the house. You're thankful for it. Your first day was spent hunting enough teacups that you would rather never do it again.
You walk to the kitchen, feeling lost as you look at the cabinets. You're not allowed here to cook, so the first time doing something as small as heating water for the Lady's tea has you making a mess of yourself. You burn your hand on the hot kettle when you get too close to it, wincing in pain, but the tea gets done quickly enough, and you find Angie where you left her when you're done.
You wonder if you should hand the tea to her, so she can hand it to Lady Beneviento. The doll doesn't seem inclined to do it, and you don't think she would manage to even take it all the way without spilling half of it. She seems bored when you present the tray to her. "She's in her workshop."
You pause. The workshop is in the basement, somewhere you're not allowed. You stare at Angie for a long moment, waiting for her to elaborate, wondering if you're walking into a trap by going somewhere you were explicitly told not to. She hasn't exactly given you permission. "In the workshop?"
"Yes."
"In the basement?"
"Duh, obviously!"
Angie doesn't seem intent on helping you, standing so still that one might think she was just another lifeless doll, and you gather all of your courage as you start to make your way to the workshop.
The basement is colder than the rest of the house, and without your presence, it is also dirtier. You twist your nose to keep from sneezing all over the Lady's tea and knock on the door that you think is the workshop with shaky hands.
There is no answer, and you wonder if you even knocked on the right door. You decide to knock again, in the hopes that maybe the Lady simply did not hear you the first time. "Lady Beneviento?"
There's a sharp gasp of surprise from inside the room, and you hear something falling on the floor. Your hand lingers on the doorknob, hesitating between walking in or waiting for a command, and there's a moment of pure tension where you hear the rustling of fabric before the Lady's voice sounds through in a nearly breathless way. "Come in."
You walk inside, gaze settling on Lady Beneviento. She's standing in front of the same autopsy bed you were lying on after Angie almost gave you a concussion. Her hands are slightly shaking in front of her, and her veil is slightly crooked as if put in a hurry. You balance the tray in your hands, unable to stop yourself from observing her closely. "I apologize for intruding in your workshop, my Lady. Angie asked me to bring you tea."
"She did?"
And there it is.
The trap.
You want to strangle that little doll.
"Yes, my Lady."
You breathe a sigh of relief when Lady Beneviento hums, waving a hand to the table behind her, which is full of fabric all over and a sewing kit. You rush to set the teacup down while she silently sits on her chair, her nimble fingers reach for a needle with a black thread in it, and she pulls a piece of black silk closer to her. The fabric is already taking form, something similar to a dress, definitely small enough to fit one of her dolls. It's surprisingly delicate, intricate, and full of details, and you watch with wonder as she starts to work on it without giving you - or the tea - any attention. It takes you a moment to notice you're shamelessly staring, and the action that brings you out of your stupor is a cold finger caressing the slight burn on the side of your hand, which still hovers over the teacup.
You gasp, moving away from the unexpected touch, and Lady Beneviento's hand lingers in the air where your hand has been. "Did you hurt yourself?" She asks, and you wonder if you're imagining the edge of concern in her voice.
"It is nothing, my Lady. Just a little burn, when I was making tea."
"You must be more careful." She says firmly, head tilting toward you. You can feel her gaze on you, and it makes you feel timid. You're not sure how to interpret the way she seems to care about your physical well-being, between this and the worry she showed after you passed out on your first day here. Maybe she's just being polite, you guess. It's still unexpected.
"Of course, my Lady."
You half expect her to kick you out for overstaying your welcome, to tell you to never return to the basement or her workshop again, to berate you for staring at her while she worked, especially since it's clear Angie sent you here without her permission or knowledge.
She doesn't.
"Call me Donna, please."
You gape at her in wide-eyed surprise. "Uhm, my Lady, that would be inappropriate-"
"Nonsense." She interrupts. "Please, call me Donna."
"Very well," You pause, letting the name linger in your mind before you say it for the first time. It feels like too much, too soon. You're already acting like an enchanted fool every time she's in the same room, and the intimacy of calling her by her first name nearly breaks you. "Donna."
Her hand jerks in the air, a subtle movement that draws your attention, and Donna quickly moves it back to the fabric, steadying her fingers on the silk. "Do you know how to sew?"
Your mother tried to teach you. You used to tear your clothes while playing outside far too often, and she thought it would be easier to teach you to fix them yourself, make you a little more independent and resourceful. She ended up dying before she could do it. "No, my Lady."
Donna hums, waving a hand to another chair in silent invitation, and you nervously bring it close to the table before sitting on it, making sure to keep some distance between you and her. She starts to talk, then, and it's like her words never end. You listen to every command with rapture attention, gaze switching from her veil-clad face to her elegant fingers as she shows you how to do it. It seems easy enough until Donna hands you a piece of white fabric, explaining what she needs you to do with it.
It's a bit of a disaster, and you end up getting a finger stuck in the thread, something that draws a throaty chuckle from the woman beside you. The sound rushes through you like a melody, making your breath hitch, and you long to hear it again. Donna's fingers are cold as they undo your mistake, softly brushing against yours, before she turns her focus back on her own work. "Keep trying." She incentivizes with a gentle voice. "That will be a new dress for Angie."
And you don't care about making a new dress for Angie, but you do care about doing enough of a good job to receive one of Donna's fleeting compliments, so you gather all of your confidence and put it into the act of sewing, slowly managing to get the fabric to start taking form. It's unbelievably ugly compared to Donna's handiwork, but you start to feel pride rushing through you as it starts to look less like a heap of fabric and more like a dress.
The entire thing is... nice. Donna is quiet, which isn't a surprise to you, but her company is enough to make you slowly relax. It's like sitting with a friend, rather than a boss. She doesn't behave like Lady Beneviento, one of Mother Miranda's four Lords, and the Lady of the house.
She's just Donna, sewing pretty dresses for her pretty dolls.
You don't notice the time rushing by, and you think Donna doesn't either. You only become aware of how late it must be when Angie enters the room, disrupting the silence with complaints. "I'm hungry!" She says, ignoring you in favor of pulling on Donna's clothes to get her attention.
The dollmaker sighs, pausing her work. "What time is it?"
Dinner time, apparently. You follow Donna out of the basement, and she glides to the kitchen to start cooking dinner. Angie glues herself to her, and you hesitate between following them or not. You've spent so much time with Donna that you feel on the verge of combusting, but there's a part of you that wants to be with her even more, to spend every waking minute getting to know her better, until every breath is memorized. Angie makes the decision for you, coming back to grab your hand with her tiny own, before dragging you to the kitchen. "You need to stay with us, dumbass!" She tells you, shaking her head.
Dinner is quiet, and it's nice. When it's done, Angie demands that you play a match of hide and seek with her before going to sleep, and you stay behind with Donna as she rushes out to hide in a fit of giggles.
"Tomorrow, if you would like-" Donna starts saying, fingers twisting in the napkin she's holding. There's something shy about her voice, and you watch her unblinkingly as she organizes her thoughts. After a moment, she seems to build enough confidence to keep speaking. "You could join me again? So we could continue sewing together."
You're breathless as you stare at her. "I would love to, Donna."
When she leaves, you let a smile grow on your face. For the first time since you accepted this job - and, perhaps, for the first time in a long time - you feel happy.
And it's all because you get to spend more time with her tomorrow.