The walk back to the hall was quieter than usual, though not for ck of satisfa. After Vivienne’s impressive dispy of appetite—polishing off her twenty-third cut of thornback meat and announg, to the visible relief of the tavern workers, that she was finally dohe two of them carried a parcel of still-warm cuts back for Kivvy. Vivienne cradled the buh care, the faint st of roasted meat trailing behind them and making the few passersby gheir way.

  Rava, hands resting casually on her belt, gnced sidelong at Vivienne as they walked. “I think you’ve officially scarred the poor waitstaff,” she teased, though the amused curl of her lips betrayed her approval.

  Vivienne smirked, her tail swishing zily behind her. “If they’re still scared after watg me enjoy a nice meal, that’s their problem. I’m not apologizing for appreciating good food.”

  The hall was quiet as they arrived, the evening light casting long shadows across the stone walls. Ohey reached Vivienne’s room, however, the silence was broken by faint cttering noises and the occasional muffled muttering. As they stepped into the hall proper, they found the source of the otion: Kivvy.

  The young tinker had clearly been busy in their absence. A haphazard colle of items read across the main table—spare metal scraps, bits of wood, and pieces of leather that looked suspiciously familiar. Rava’s sharp gaze immediately picked out a belt buckle that beloo one of the hall’s armor racks, along with a couple of what might have been chair legs. Kivvy, pletely unbothered by the mess she had created, was tinkering with peared to be another of her infamous boomsticks, humming quietly to herself.

  “Kivvy,” Rava said, her tone dry as she crossed her arms. “I see you’ve been... resourceful.”

  Kivvy looked up, grinning unapologetically. “Borrowed a few things no one was using. Waste not, want nht?”

  Rava pihe bridge of her said nothing. Vivienne, meanwhile, stepped forward, the entig aroma of the thornback meat instantly catg Kivvy’s attentioinkering was fotten in an instant as her sharp eyes locked onto the bundle in Vivienne’s arms.

  “What’s that?” Kivvy asked, her voice bright with curiosity.

  Vivienne chuckled, holding the parcel out toward her. “Dinner. All for you.”

  Kivvy’s eyes widened, and her grin stretched so wide it was almost ical. She bounced on her heels, practically vibrating with excitement as she took the bundle. “For me? Really? You’re not messing with me?”

  “Really,” Vivienne said, amused by the rea. “Rava and I figured you’d appreciate it. Thornback meat, still warm.”

  Kivvy clutched the buo her chest like it was a treasure, the st making her practically swoon. “You have no idea how much I his! You’re the best!” she excimed, her enthusiasm genuine.

  She darted off toward the er she had cimed as her workspace, muttering to herself about how the meat would keep her going while she worked oest creation. Vivienne and Rava exged a gnce, Rava’s expression caught somewhere between exasperation and amusement.

  “She’s going to destroy something important one day,” Rava said, though there was no real bite in her voice.

  “Probably,” Vivienne agreed, a smirk pying on her lips. “But at least she’ll do it with a full stomach.”

  Halfway through dev her first sb of lukewarm thornback meat, Kivvy paused mid-bite, her sharp eyes narrowing as she focused on Vivienne. Her chewing slowed, and theopped entirely, blinking a few times as if trying to process what she was seeing. She tilted her head, a pieeat still clutched in her hands, grease slig her fingers as she openly stared at the nightmare-woman.

  "Hold up," Kivvy said, swallowing her mouthful with an audible gulp. She gestured at Vivieh the k of meat. "What's with you? You’re… shiny. And—" Her eyes flicked to the dress, her expressioering on disbelief. "—actually wearing something that isn't terrifyingly ragged. Did you finally let someone dress you, or did Rava bully you into it?"

  Vivienne arched a brow, her mouth twitg in amusement. "I'll have you know, this was entirely my idea," she replied, one haing on her hip. Her tone was light, but the flicker of pride in her eyes betrayed how much she ehe attention. "Though Rava seems to enjoy this dress as much as I do."

  Rava, who had been leaning casually against the wall, suddenly straightened, ears twitg in mild indignation. "Don't drag me into this," she said, though the fai hint of color dusted her cheeks.

  Kivvy, oblivious to the tension, grinned around a mouthful of thornback meat before swallowing. “You look very pretty!” she said brightly, tearing into another bite with ahusiastip. She waved the half-eaten sb of meat toward Vivienne as if to emphasize her point. “Pretty in a scary way. Like, scary-pretty. Scaritty.”

  Vivienne blihe out a ugh that filled the room. “Scaritty? That’s a new one. I think I like it.” She struck a pyful pose, one hand on her hip and the other brushing ba imaginary strand of hair. “Do you hear that, Rava? I’m officially scaritty.”

  Rava groaned, rubbiemples, though her lips twitched with suppressed ughter. “Don’t ence her, Kivvy.”

  Kivvy grinned wider, clearly pleased with herself. “Why not? It’s true! You’re all, like, fand elegant, but still look like you could eat someone whole.” She paused, tilting her head as if resideriatement. “Actually, that’s probably not just the look…”

  Vivienne smirked, her sharp teeth glinting. “Only when I’m really hungry.”

  Kivvy cackled, clearly enjoying the banter, while Rava just shook her head, muttering under her breath about the pany she was forced to keep.

  “Tomorrow, I’ll get us a wagon,” Rava said, her tone firm and pragmatic. “I’ve already put a rush order on the harness, so I’ll pick that up as well. We’ll leave for the west the day after.”

  “Sure, sure,” Kivvy replied absentmindedly, waving her hand dismissively as she refocused on her meal, eagerly tearing into another bite.

  Vivienne gnced around the hall, her gaze wandering the dimly lit space. “Where is Renzia?” she asked casually, though a note of curiosity crept into her tone.

  Rava let out a long-suffering sigh, ping the bridge of her nose. “Why do those three words always worry me?”

  As if summoned by the mention of her name, Renzia dropped from the rafters without warning. The mannequin nded on a single foot with an unnatural, almost eerie poise, her movements fluid and precise in a way that only a struct could manage. For a fleeting moment, she looked like a dancer frozen in a perfeding.

  Then, just as quickly, the elegance shattered. She wobbled precariously, arms filing in stiff, jerky motions before toppling forward. With a resounding thud, she hit the ground face-first, limbs sprawled in all dires.

  There was a beat of stunned silence.

  Kivvy nearly choked on her food, coughing and sputtering as she tried to suppress a ugh. “Is… is she okay?” she mao wheeze, her shoulders shaking with barely-tained amusement.

  Vivienne pressed a hand to her mouth, her qui of eyes glittering with amusement as she fought to maintain posure. “Graceful as ever,” she remarked dryly, though the ers of her lips twitched with the effort of holding back a ugh.

  Rava, meanwhile, simply groaned, her palm spping against her face. “Renzia, for the love of—what were you even doing up there?”

  The mannequin pushed herself up with slow, deliberate movements, brushing dust from her dipidated dress before shrugging, the motion almost apologeti its stiffness. Her head tilted slightly, as if silently questioning the attention she had drawn.

  Vivienne smacked her forehead with a groan. “I ordered a dress for you too! I ’t believe I pletely fot about it in all the excitement over my own.”

  Renzia stood still for a moment, her featureless face giving nothing away. Then, with a faint scrape of metal on ste, she scribbled a message and held it up: Do not worry, mistress. I am not as important.

  Vivienne’s face fell, the brightness in her eyes dimming as she read the words. She closed the short distaween them, ing her arms tightly around the mannequin’s cloth-ed frame. “Don’t say that,” she said softly, her voice carrying a surprisileness. “You’re important, Renzia. Maybe I don’t always show it, but you are.”

  Renzia froze at first, her wooden limbs stiff and uain, but she slowly raised her arms, attempting to mimic the embrace. The motion was awkward, her movements too meical to feel natural, but it was clear she was trying.

  Vivienne smiled against Renzia’s shoulder, patting her gently as if to reassure her. “See? You’re doing fine. Hugging’s easy—you just… squeeze a little.” She gave a light squeeze to demonstrate, careful not to overwhelm the mannequin.

  Renzia tilted her head slightly in thought before mimig the gesture, tightening her hold in an approximation of Vivienne’s hug. It wasn’t perfect—her arms bent at odd angles, aiff movements made the hug feel more like an enclosure—but it was ear.

  Rava, leaning against a nearby pilr, watched the se unfold with a faint smile tugging at her lips. “Yoing to spoil her, you know,” she teased, though her tone cked its usual sharpness.

  Vivienne gnced over, her arms still around Renzia. “Everyone deserves a little spoiling now and then,” she replied firmly, before looking back at the mannequin. “Especially you.”

  Renzia slowly released her grip and scribbled oe again, holding it up for Vivieo read: Thank you, mistress. I will take care of the dress when it es.

  Vivienne ughed softly, ruffling the twin-drilled hair on Renzia’s head. “You’d better. I want to see you shine, just like I do.”

  Rava cleared her throat, stepping closer. “If we’re doh the emotional bonding, we still have preparations to finish before tomorrow.”

  Vivienne rolled her eyes but let Renzia go, giving her a fond smile before turning to Rava. “Yes, yes, ander,” she said mogly, earning a chuckle from Kivvy in the er.

  As the group begaling bato their tasks, Renzia remained rooted in pce for a moment longer, her head tilting slightly as she stared at the space Vivienne had vacated.

  With little else to do, Rava excused herself to do more preparations, Kivvy tio occasionally mun her meal while she created more explosives, and Vivienne decided to return the sheet she had been graciously loaned by Narek.

  The hall bustled with activity ie afternoon, workers and members hurrying about their tasks with purpose. Vivienne navigated the familiar corridors with a sway iep, her sharp heels tapping against the stone floor. As she approached Narek’s office, she slowed, her wicked grin spreading like wildfire across her face. The sheet she carried in her arms suddenly became an opportunity, and she draped it around herself like a toga, artfully cealing the elegant dress beh. Satisfied with her impromptu disguise, she raised a hand and knocked firmly on the door.

  There ause before a muffled voice from within responded, “e in.”

  Vivieepped ih a theatrical fir, sweeping the door open and striking a pose.

  “How I—” Narek began, gng up from the stack of papers on his desk. His expression immediately fttened, his lips pressing into a tight line. “Oh, it’s you.”

  “Tis I!” Vivienne decred, throwing her arms out wide, the sheet fluttering dramatically around her.

  Narek groaned, ping the bridge of his nose. “Is there something you need? I’m busy.”

  “What, ’t I call in for a social visit with my dearest friend Narek?” Vivienne asked, her tone syrupy sweet as she batted her long shes with exaggerated innoce.

  “Okay, you clearly want something,” Narek deadpanned, leaning ba his chair. “There is no way this is a casual visit. Just get to the point.”

  Vivienne feigned a wounded expression, clutg the sheet to her chest. “You wound me, Narek! But fine, I’ll get to the point. I came to return your bedsheet to you. I have made an important decision: clothing is off the table for me. My perfect body should be admired by all at all times.”

  ared at her for a moment, his eyes narrowing. “Please, just keep the sheet. We might be more le about attire than most pces, but even we have limits.”

  Vivienne’s grin widened, a mischievous glint in her eyes. “You’re absolutely right. It’s weird wearing your bedsheet all the time.”

  Before he could process the statement, Vivienne yahe sheet away in one fluid motion. Narek’s eyes went wide, and his head jerked to the side as he quickly averted his gaze, a deep flush spreading across his cheeks.

  “Could you for once—oh,” he started, only to trail off when his peripheral vision caught the shimmer of fabric. He turned back hesitantly, noting the stunning dress Vivienne had oh the sheet. His exasperation turned into mild relief, though his tone remai. “You’re actually wearing something.”

  “Of course I am! I had it made just for me,” Vivienne replied with a haughty tilt of her , twirling slightly so the fabric caught the light. “What do you think? Magnifit, isn’t it?”

  Narek sighed deeply, rubbing the bridge of his nose again. “It’s… fine. I get back to work now?”

  “Fine? Fine? Narek, you wound me again! Do you have any idea how much effort went into this ensemble?” she huffed, crossing her arms.

  “Yes, I do,” he replied dryly, gesturing vaguely toward her with his pen. “Now, unless you’ve also decided to critique my work attire, I have actual work to finish.”

  Vivienne smirked, draping the sheet over her arm like a cape. “You’re lucky I’m feeling merciful today, Narek. Enjoy your b desk and your b work.”

  “And you enjoy being a walking disturbance,” he quipped, already refog on his papers.

  With a dramatic wave, Vivieed the room, leaving o mutter under his breath about how every iion with her shaved years off his life.

  SupernovaSymphony