Mogul n. 1: (capitalized Mogul) an Indian Muslim of or descended from one of several conquering groups of Mongol, Turkish, and Persian origin; especially: Great Mogul, 2: a person of rank, power, influence, or distinction often in a specified area
"Whoa."
It was not an uncommon utterance for Vi, but the look on her face was. For once, she was at a loss for words.
Maybe she should have brought Vi home sooner, Caitlyn thought.
She supposed her family's estate was impressive, particularly by Piltover standards. Just from their position in the entrance hall, the vaulted ceilings, the massive hextech chandelier, the elaborate light sconces all spoke of wealth and order and care, all of which were in short supply on Piltover streets.
Yes, money certainly made riding out the city's lawlessness more comfortable, though it had not insulated them from it entirely. Not that you could tell just by looking. Money bought seamless repairs, too, at least of the physical signs.
Caitlyn set her gun down in its place in the foyer. It fit neatly in its slot, blending seamlessly into the rest of the polished wood and metal.
In a rare show of manners, Vi left her gauntlets beside it. The blocky metal and tarnished plates stood as a single dull point on the otherwise shining wall.
Vi noticed it too. She tried not to show it, but Caitlyn couldn't see why else she suddenly blustered for a fight.
"Why would anyone need a vase that big? You could fit the entire station armory in that thing."
The vase actually did hold a tripwire and a tranquilizer gun on a mechanism to incapacitate intruders. Caitlyn began to say as much, but Vi was already onto her next mark in her target rich environment.
"The gold from that frame alone would have fed me for my entire childhood! And why does that clock have a dome on it? Are you expecting it to make a run for it or something?"
She continued like this as she followed Caitlyn through the length of the mansion.
Caitlyn let her vent. Her parents weren't home to hear.
Finally she reached the library.
"Wait here for a minute," Caitlyn ordered before ducking into the room.
She took a bit longer than Vi had been expecting, but then Vi was not the most patient person. When Caitlyn finally reemerged, Vi had some winners planned. "What's that? Do your folks have some extra fancy gun polish specifically for rich snobs? Or maybe-"
Caitlyn tucked the book, the whole reason they were here in the first place, under her arm and held the box out to Vi.
Vi took it, unhooking the latch and opening it probably a little more violently than was necessary. She almost dropped it; the lid revealed the creepiest not-quite-child face she had ever seen. The porcelain doll stared up at her soullessly from its massive bonnet of ruffles and lace.
"This was what my father wanted," Caitlyn said when Vi looked back at her questioningly. "Want to help me smash the stupid thing?"
Vi couldn't reclaim her gauntlets fast enough.