Chapter Text
In the ‘70s, Donna Beneviento received the Cadou from Mother Miranda. Her parents and her sister Bernadette were long gone. She was the last village’s Lord to undergo the mutation; she was finally included in Mother Miranda's obscure project.
Regularly, the village’s leader gathered the Four Lords to give them new objectives or to check on their progress. She liked to call these events “family reunions” to enforce the idea that they were her children. They had to remember where they came from. They had to show her reverence and submit to whatever wish she had. She would only reward her best servant. She was against the idea of friendships — a nonsensical waste of time in her eyes. Moreover, she would not tolerate insurgents rallying against her cause. Competition was the best motive for it.
During Donna’s first meetings, she observed the pioneers’ heirs silently, holding Angie to her chest. She did not want to draw more attention. In fact, she had just been introduced as Mother Miranda’s adoptive daughter and the others were inquisitorial. The goddess’s subordinates were like ferocious lions in a cage, fearing their master’s whip and following orders for a skinny piece of meat.
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The tradition was that the Lords introduce themselves to the new one in a private meeting. They could assert their position in the hierarchy in a concealed attempt. All of them were not on the same page, obviously.
Karl Heisenberg was the first to greet her, coming out of the blue in her territory and taking a photo despite her refusal. Angie was furious. He kicked the doll and grumbled about knowing where to find him if she ever got tired of being one of Mother Miranda’s pets before leaving as fast as he showed up. Donna had heard rumours of him from her dolls spying on doomed visitors. He was the most turbulent of the lords. Once, a vicious quarrel occurred between Mother Miranda and Heisenburg, which left him terribly injured and taking refuge in his factory. Since this altercation, Lord Heisenberg was more discreet and less reluctant with Mother Miranda’s requests; no doubt he was waiting for the right moment to take his revenge.
Salvatore Moreau was eager to have Donna in his reservoir. She kind of felt some sympathy for him because, like her, he did not particularly like to experiment on human beings. The Cadou did not spare his physique — he had the lowest affinity. His only occupation was watching romantic shows on his television. He was a love deprived Lord. He would explore more than the Seven Seas if it gained Mother Miranda’s approval. Maybe he was expecting a reward, something that was akin to what the actors and actresses had in the type of shows he watched. Mother Miranda might have assured him she would provide him with a wife if he were worthy. Only they knew…
Alcina Dimitrescu, as a well-educated noblewoman with great manners, sent Donna an invitation. She loved Mother Miranda. The latter gifted her with so many presents: She helped her take back her castle and restore her aristocratic status. And after willingly accepting the Cadou experiment, deemed as the “most favourable” subject, she was also later rewarded with three daughters that she spoiled rotten and overprotected. She got the best of the experience compared to all of the Lords and was indeed thankful.
Lady Dimitrescu’s reputation was built up rapidly. She was considered a barbarous monarch, regularly taking in new staff to replace those who had been taken to her dungeon. A priori, they were killed and drained of blood for sustenance. On another note, villagers never acknowledged that she came back from a jazz singer’s career in the ‘30s.
Being the first successful trial in the ‘50s, she expected to share a bond with the goddess. Mother Miranda did not seem to share her vision and merely stayed focused on a vessel’s compatibility. For this reason, Lady Dimitrescu despised Lord Heisenberg; The “incredibly favourable” man thing was taking away Mother Miranda’s attention from her.
Donna Beneviento, on the other hand, was simply a “favourable” subject. She did not accept her body’s new condition right away. At first, she resented her Cadou part. Now she endured it. Her life was not perfect, but it was not miserable. Frequent pressure from Mother Miranda was something she could handle. She was forlorn — perhaps genuinely depressed — but it was a fluctuating emotion. The worst of it would last for three or four days, not long compared to when she was a child…
She could organise her day like she wanted; eternity and noble status were not unbearable inconveniences in that sense. Angie kept her company so she was not alone. Donna had time for her hobbies and botanical research, which was one of her passions. She was used to shovelling dirt for the purpose of creating grooves for flowers or digging out graves for humans.
It was then that she was reminded that establishing a friendship with others like the Lords would require communication — something she could only confidently do through her beloved doll. Additionally, with her new status, Donna Beneviento would also have to show what a veiled threat she had become to the public’s eye and the Lords’s as well if she so desired.
That was definitely a terrible idea. Her motto was “Hide and survive.”
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Donna Beneviento checked her veil for the thousandth time. She was in front of the Dimitrescus’ castle, preparing herself for the social event. She knew of the guest etiquettes like bringing a gift for the host. So she opted for a big bouquet of flowers plucked from her garden.
And seeing only the fun part of the invitation as per usual, Angie was excited unlike her master: it was a new ground to play at and not a modest one.
Donna was more nervous, fearing that she would mess up and that one maid would be missing at the end of the day due to her own mishap.
Angie was by the gigantic gates, “Come on, Donna! The quicker we do this, the sooner we can go back home.”
The introvert took a deep breath to compose herself before knocking on the doors. They open themselves mechanically, letting her step and wait inside the castle, sheltered from the cold. The interior was rich — gilded. Both porcelain vases and walls were decorated with golden ornaments. Like its owner, the castle was sophisticated yet intimidating.
Donna could not miss the oil painting of three young women. She approached the framed picture held up at the back of a recess on the wall. “Bela, Cassandra, and Daniela,” she muttered out the words engraved into the plaque that stood in front of it. They must have been Lady Dimitrescu’s daughters.
After its little inspection, Angie said, “Meh, I’m sure they look nothing like this.”
“Please, behave,” Donna mentally scolded her little friend.
The door opened, and Lady Dimitrescu had to fold herself in two due to her height to pass slowly through the doorway.
Angie inclined its head to the side. It mentally shared its musing with its creator, “That’s not practical at all. Why isn’t the castle accommodated to her size?”
The tall woman straightened and ceremoniously said, “Welcome, Lady Beneviento! I’m delighted to finally have someone who learned and possesses soft skills unlike that accurate imitation of a pig named Heisenberg,” she grimaced. Donna bowed and extended her arms to offer the bouquet. “Flowers as red as blood for the Dimitrescu family — how fitting! They are marvellous. Thank you, Lady Beneviento. Your reputation precedes you. I heard you were quite a gardener yourself and I’m not disappointed.” Donna bowed while Angie couldn’t help but boast of its master’s expertise.
“She can grow anything! Just name the plant then it’ll be in her garden the next thing you know!”
Lady Dimitrescu seemed to be interested. “Well, I might contact you for my next party. Floral decorations are always appreciated.” Remembering Lady Beneviento's estate’s rather picturesque location, she asked, “Are you interested in painting?”
Donna nodded again. “She loves art in general,” answered the high-pitched voice, elaborating for her.
“Well, well, well. Let me show you my palace in this case.”
Lady Dimitrescu did not lie — there were artworks everywhere. Taking a walk inside the castle was like visiting a museum. Donna was relieved that they did not bump into a maid as they did. The matriarch must have given some instructions…
They stopped at the atelier. Alcina insisted on painting Donna and Angie to bring home the representation as a souvenir of their visit. Of course, the doll was ecstatic. It climbed on the table, pushed a turtle sculpture sitting on top of it, took a pose, and joked, “Draw me like one of your maidens.” Donna smiled under her veil, shook her head and sat on a stool.
Lady Dimitrescu organised herself and began to draft while Donna observed her surroundings. She supposed the mounted, colossal painting of the noblewoman was an offering from a renowned artist. It was a masterpiece. She analysed a canvas on an easel by the corner. Painted on it were only female figures; some of them had wings. Angie began to wiggle on her lap. However, Donna firmly immobilised her. The doll was cursing internally.
Lady Dimitrescu broke the silence, wondering aloud which colours would be better suited for the painting. Without realising it, she began a monologue. “I should plan a new painting lesson for my daughters. The last time was such a disaster. Cassandra was the least patient, inquiring why she should replicate images with paint when she could create a death scene with authentic blood herself,” she said as she sighed and shook her head. “ Daniela began with portraits but became frustrated when she messed up her colour mixture. Bela took the safest start, choosing objects and rooms, although she still needs to work on her perspective. I have educated them for more than twenty years, but they still have so many things to learn…” Lady Dimitrescu went on more about her wine business, complained about the weather, party preparations, and so much more.
“— and I have not even found a dress yet!”
Angie finally broke down from its state and shouted, “Donna knows how to sew! She dresses us herself. I love when we get new movies. She reproduces the costumes, and we can recreate the scene.”
Alcine stopped her sketch and looked at Donna with hope etched on her face. “Do you? Would you be kind enough to make something for me, please? It’s really difficult to find clothes for myself, more so with party dresses…” The doll crafter felt trapped but slowly nodded. “You have my deepest gratitude. I very much appreciate your help.” The owner of the castle then leaned backwards and took a look at her drawing. She seemed satisfied for the moment. “Now, can you please remove your veil so I can refer to your visage?”
Lady Beneviento cringed and hunched her shoulder, hands on either side of her head. Lady Dimitrescu tried to approach her to reassure her. Fearing that the tall woman was approaching to take off her headwear, Donna misunderstood her intention. Like a scared animal, Donna bolted out of the room and exited the castle with Angie hanging up in her arms.
The aristocrat stared at the door, shrugged, and went on with her activities. Well, that escalated quickly. She could have just refused.
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Lady Beneviento’s gardener was sent to the Dimitrescu’s castle with a portfolio containing sketches of clothes.
A maid greeted him at the castle gates and received the delivery. While heading to her mistress’ chamber, a cacophony of giggles echoed off of the walls, and the next moment, the terrified maiden was wrapped up in a thick cloud of flies.
“Where are you going, little one?” asked the blonde.
“Aren’t you supposed to be in the kitchen?” said the brunette.
“Ooh! What is it? A love letter?” mused the ginger. She opened it, “Not bad… Not bad at all!”
After terrifying the poor servant for the sake of their amusement, they took the object of their curiosity and released the woman, eager to analyse its contents. From the faceless model and its proportions drawn on the papers — it was for their mother. With that information, they glided towards the matriarch.
Lady Dimitrescu was at her desk, reviewing documents of financial transactions.
“Mother, we found something interesting,” said Bela.
Lady Dimitrescu took the files and studied the dresses. “Ah yes, thank you. It must be from Lady Beneviento.” At the Lord’s name, she was immediately assaulted by her daughters’ queries. “Girls! Girls! Please, I can’t answer if I can’t hear the question.”
Bela and Cassandra looked at each other to determine who should talk first. In the end, it was Daniela who tried her luck. “Will we ever meet the Lords? Now that Lady Beneviento has become a Cadou possessor, the four are finally complete. Shouldn’t we… introduce ourselves?”
“We can’t trust the others. They can be dangerous. You know well it’s to protect you.”
“Aren’t we strong enough now?” asked Cassandra proudly.
Lady Dimitrescu was uncertain. Her daughters could defend themselves and were smarter than Heisenberg’s experiments. However, the Lords were still more powerful. She wanted to minimise the risks of her daughters getting in harm’s way, even if there were not many that could. Better safe than sorry. She did not want to scare her daughters, so she switched her approach. “Meeting will bore you. We only discuss executive details.”
“We just want to support you. Heisenberg has got all his lycans with him… Moreover, we would gladly listen to Mother Miranda’s instructions.” Bela was always the smart one.
Their mother sighed, feeling she couldn’t refuse her daughters anything. “I suppose you can accompany me next time…” The three women excitedly left her study room and began to scheme animatedly. Lady Dimitrescu looked back at the forgotten drawings and opted for a long strapless dress.
Lady Beneviento would soon receive materials and her mensurations with a note that read “Paint it, white. I expect results.”
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Mother Miranda never visited Donna without a reason. This time, she brought a canvas, which was more than strange. She turned the painting so her child could discover who the model was. Lady Beneviento was face to face with a young version of her biological mother and Angie on her lap. Her parents went to the castle back then when maids were ill. Lady Dimitrescu must have remembered their facial features and had inferred what Donna could look like; the representation was not far from reality.
Her jawline was quite strong. She also tied her hair in a bun the same way her mother used to. Donna felt a pang of pain, as she would never be able to replicate her mother’s warm smile the way it displayed genuine joy and brought comfort. The significant difference was her eye shape and her grey iris. The last survivor inherited them from her father. But that was a minuscule detail compared to the lack of the monstrous growth partially covering the right side of her face. Overall, the portrait was of great quality.
“Isn’t it a remarkable family portrait, Donna? You should hang it in your foyer.”
Mother Miranda was right, the Beneviento dynasty was now reduced to one — had been for more than a decade. “You left quite an impression at the Dimitrescu’s domain. Don’t disturb Alcina. You know what happens when someone comes near you…” The message was well understood. Lady Beneviento would contemplate the painting in her foyer every day. It reminded her of how monstrous she had become.
She kept her distance. She would meet the other Lords only during those “family meetings.” On rare occasions and around summer, Lady Dimitrescu would be accompanied by her daughters. They seemed to be a little chaotic but shared a deep bond as adoptive siblings. The lonely dollmaker was a little envious of their close relationship; Donna missed her older sister, Bernadette. It would be nice to have someone to share her quotidian life with…