Chapter Text
There have always been whispers of the last surviving member of House Beneviento but you've never paid much attention; too focused on teaching yourself how to draw to. People gossiped about you too, about how you hated the world and everyone in it. It wasn't true but it felt better not to busy yourself with something as trivial as reputation in this hellhole of a village. Who really cared about something like that anyway when you were just going to be eaten by lycans or sold off like cattle to someone more powerful.
You decided early on that you would be neither. Maybe you were young and foolish but you spent so much time dreaming of thing much grander than you could ever afford for yourself. So many of your nights were spent with charcoal staining your fingers as you drew your own face reflected on a mirror shard by candlelight. As you grew tired of watching yourself get older in your sketches, you turned your sights out to the flowers that grew in the Spring and warm Summers. The vibrant blooms gave you the inspiration to paint and you knew just where to get what you needed. The Duke always had curios in his cart that caught your attention. It didn't take him long to find a wellspring of knowledge for you to tuck under your arm and run home to learn.
The attic at home had become a studio for you, though your family paid you no mind. Everyone had their own problems and you were the least of theirs. Day in and day out, you would pour over the books you bought from the Duke to learn of techniques from masters that defined generations of artists after them. Something about them felt mystical though you could never describe what it was.
Perfection was the only thing that came to mind.
Frustration formed thorns around your heart and you hated yourself for it. Delusions plagued you, and you would cry yourself to sleep most nights when it first came around. In time, you grew around your grief, your pains. You became bigger than your fears and squashed them under your boots.
Years had passed as you locked yourself up in your little world. Others thought you went mad but you were the opposite, the fire inside you only growing. Walls were littered with your canvases in various stages of completion. Your apron was covered in paint and your skin slightly stained as you worked.
When you rejoined the "real" world on certain days, you shook your head at prayers to the village's false idols and continued about with your heathen ways.
When you would look upon the framed faces of the Four Houses' Lords, you would often find yourself looking towards Lady Beneviento, the dollmaker. Her face was covered by a veil and unlike the other Lords, it was almost unheard of to see her in the village. Some stories about how she has a wicked scar on her face had reached you and sometimes you found yourself thinking more and more about her.
It was odd how a woman so shrouded in mystery had caught your attention like she did.
Like how she caught your attention, it seemed you had caught hers as well.
-
It wasn't long until you had started to sell paintings. Your father needed help paying the family's tithes and he wasn't willing to offer you or anyone else in your home to service House Dimitrescu. The Duke seemed to like your paintings too and you were humbled when he took to appraising them and helping you peddle your goods. Pride swelled in your chest as he would even hang a couple pieces up in visible corners inside his cart.
On a quiet morning, you rose from bed bright and early to pack up a few of your newly dried works to bring to the Duke. The two of you had fallen into cheerful conversation about brush strokes and stippling techniques when he had handed you an envelope. You looked at him quizzically in return.
"An invitation," he says. "Perhaps a fulfilment of one of your dreams, my dear girl."
A dream? You had very little aspirations of your own.
There weren't any thoughts left rattling your skull when you saw the wax seal on the envelope. It was the symbol of House Beneviento, pressed into white wax. Your fingers were careful not to break the seal as you opened the envelope in front of the Duke.
Your eyes widened when you read the contents of a beautifully hand-written letter.
-
The Beneviento manor was imposing, so far removed from your quiet life in the village. Stepping up to the front door was a bit intimidating. You were never one for visits before and you have never even painted anywhere outside of your own home. It felt strange to be invited by the Lady Beneviento for a commission done. You were fretting over your supplies, now holding a suitcase in one hand with all your paint inside while you held two small canvases under your other arm.
The letter hadn't specified what you would be painting. Would you be doing her portrait? No one save for her old gardener had ever seen her face but he was long dead already. You steeled yourself as you knocked loudly on the front foor. There was no reply at first so you tried again but before your hand could touch the wooden door, it opened.
Before you stood Lady Beneviento, clad all in black mourning attire.
"Y-you called for me, my Lady?" you stammer, mentally berating yourself for stuttering.
She stands there silently before opening the door fully and something bumps hard into your leg. You jump at the sight of a doll in a wedding dress.
"Oh, hello."
"You're here, you're here!" she shrieks.
How did it do that? There were no strings attached to her and the Lady's hands were clasped in front of her. The doll's clapping happily and laughing loudly as you stew in your confusion. You don't comment though, there are probably stranger things out in the world right now.
"Now that you're here, let's go! Come on, hurry up. Hurry up!"
She's pulling you by the pants leg and you reluctantly enter the home, passing the Lady of the house as the doll pulls you along. Eventually, you're brought to a parlor and you get to have a look around. There's dolls everywhere but you guess that's to be expected given the family's business. None of them move or even look quite like the one that pulled you into the house. The living doll is quick to drag you to a table and hoist herself up onto a chair then hops up onto the table itself, now at your eye level.
You almost kick yourself for almost forgetting your host.
"Lady Beneviento--"
"Oh don't worry about her! She's not much of a talker anyway. Besides, you're here for me, buddy!"
"For you?" you ask, quirking an eyebrow.
"Yeah! Aren't you the painter? You're here to paint me!" she sing-songs, twirling in her wedding dress.
Right, you were here for a job from the Lady Beneviento to paint. You were nervous since it was a job for one of the Four Lords but art was something you were passionate about. You set your suitcase and canvases on the table under the scrutiny of the Lady as she trailed behind slowly. Her soft footsteps were barely heard as she made her approach and you can feel her gaze from behind her veil. It wasn't even on you, it was on your belongings.
Unlatching the suitcase, you pulled out a portable easel and started setting up.
"Shall we begin?"
-
"My Lady, this is far too much!"
You couldn't believe it. It was nearing nightfall when you finished the doll's portrait (whom you later found out was named Angie) and now you were receving your payment. Never in your wildest dreams did you expect to be receiving five thousand Lei for your services. You usually only sold your works for five hundred Lei per piece.
The cloth bag in your hands was heavy with coins. Lady Beneviento stood in front of you and you can't tell what she's thinking. Luckily, Angie distracts you, admiring herself on the canvas.
"What are you on, huhhhhh? Look at me--" she exclaims, pointing at herself. "--I look great, pal!"
"Yes, but--"
"No buts! Nooooooo buts, missy! We're not gonna hear it from you, bleh!" she taunts, covering her head where her ears would be if she had any. Did she even have ears? You couldn't tell from the wedding veil placement.
"Sorry, but it's just so much money. Is there anything else I can do for you both?" you ask, hoping to be given something more to do.
"Why don't you come back next week? You can paint me and my cute little friends when you come back. Ehe," Angie answers.
"Oh! Next week is fine but… friends?"
"The dolls, you dummy! They're all my friends."
Angie scampers to the side of the table and starts climbing down slowly but loses her grip. You race over to catch her but Lady Beneviento is faster. She slides across the floor quickly in time to catch Angie in her arms. Angie just laughs loudly, not taking the situation even the least bit seriously.
"Good catch, D!"
Lady Beneviento fusses over her, examining her limbs and face for anything wrong. It's clear that she cares about her well-being whether the doll takes safety precautions or not.
"Come on! Not in front of our new friend," the doll whines, batting hands away from her face.
Despite yourself, you laugh and hold a hand out to Lady Beneviento to help her up. Unfortunately, she doesn't take, instead pulling herself up using the table. Angie is cradled in her arms as she stands.
"See you next week, buddy!"
You go home happy.
-
Fridays are for visits to the Beneviento manor and you made sure of it. On Thursday evenings, all your painting supplies would be readily tucked into your suitcase. Every week that you would come, it seemed that you would come earlier than the last and leave later each time. Angie always called you a new name that wasn’t your own. Some days it would be friend-o or even something as ironic as squirt. You could easily scoop her up with one hand if you really wanted to. As chatty as Angie was, Lady Beneviento would just blend into the background. Her companion was obviously your little friend but you wanted to thank her for her patronage each week.
She would never speak to you but as they say, actions speak louder than words. While you would paint, you could expect a pot of herbal tea by you as you worked. Angie had made sure to inform you that the tea leaves were picked from Donna's garden but you could never get used to her using the Lady's first name so casually. She was so kind to you. When you started coming before lunch time, she would have a spread ready for you to eat while she excused herself to eat in the kitchen. It would have been lonely if Angie wasn't chattering away with you about your next project.
How many portraits of her dolls by you were covering her walls now? You'd lost count.
It only took you two lunches until you cleared your own dishes and brought them to the kitchen. There you found her, veil slightly parted at the side, revealing pale, milky skin. You could see her ear, then the curve of her jaw, then her neck. She was washing the dishes but the second she noticed you in the doorway, her wet hands shot up to adjust her veil. The muscles in her neck were tense as she covered up.
You were quick to apologize.
"My lady, I apologize for my intrusion!"
Her soft voice surprised you.
"It's alright. Please…call me Donna."
-
Lady Beneviento was making your dream a reality. It had come so abruptly while you were finishing up a group painting of a few new dolls that had been welcomed to the family. You almost dropped your brush when she asked you if you wanted to become her in-house painter. It wasn't even a question in your mind.
"Yes!"
That was how you started living in the house and familiarizing yourself with the different rooms. Donna had set a bedroom for you, warm and cozy with a splendid view ouside into the garden. Another room with a large window had been prepared as a studio for you to work in. You were overjoyed at this and your family was equally as happy for you. In their eyes, you had come so far from your life as a recluse. At this point, you had become a bit of a minor celebrity for your work for House Beneviento though you painted for her exclusively.
When you first propped up your easel in the studio, you looked back to Donna with a goofy smile as Angie would describe it. You just couldn't help it. You wanted to kiss Donna. Wait, no. That's not right. You wanted to hug her. Yes, hug her. Where were these thoughts coming from?
You didn't hug her. Instead, you clasped one of her hands in both of yours and thanked her profusely. She seemed to freeze up when you touched her but she didn't pull her hand back or push you away. She stayed right where she was.
That was when the problems started.