Category: Resident Evil Village
Rating: M
Couples: -
Warnings: AU, Mention of torture & forced pregnancy, Blood, Maternal Miranda
Chapter: Prologue
Copyright: Characters & places © By Capcom, Plot & OC´s © by me
Authors note: Sequel to Cursed Summer Vineyards
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"What." Miranda looked down on the maid that greeted her. She had called Alcina to arrange a meeting and her call had not been answered. Upon arrival at the Dimitrescu-castle...
"The Lady and the young Mistresses have left for a month." The older woman in a well-kept uniform repeated her earlier statement. "They did not inform me to where, but told me to maintain the business in their absence and only start worrying if they had send no word by the end of the month."
Honestly, the human had to be admired for not faltering under her glare. "And that was all?"
"All Lady Dimitrescu thought I needed to know, yes." The brunette bowed lightly.
"And when did they leave?" Her wings twitched, wondering if she could catch up to them. It seemed unlikely, Alcina and her eldest three having seemingly passed beyond the extent of the Mold below. She had wondered at that, but 'reception' had always been spotty in the castle, considering how high it could get, so she had assumed them to be in some of the higher rooms.
"Sometime during the night, Mother Miranda. They did not see need to say their farewells." Sometime during the night... well, that could well put them far outside of reach. Without a clear direction to go on, even the Lycans might not be able to find her with such a headstart. She would have to hope one of them caught the trail, but... Ugh...
"Surely there must have been some preperation for this?" Alcina would not just... disappear like that, not after last summer... She hoped.
"None that they saw fit to include me in. If you wish, I can see among the rest of the staff...?"
"Do that." Mother Miranda planted herself in one of sittingrooms, where she quickly was served fresh, hot tea and food by a scurrying little maid. Oh, she was going to yell at Alcina for this one. Even a good mother had the right to get angry and disappearing for a month counted, of that she was certain.
"Mother Miranda?" After a while, after the tea had been refilled three times already, the older woman entered the room again. "I have found one who might be able to enlighten you some." A young woman followed her, one she recognized as the in-house seamstress of the Dimitrescu-family, who mended small damages and upkept the clothes of the servants.
"Well?" She remained seated, the luxurious black fabric of her clothes standing out from the light-coloured decor of the room.
"The Lady had asked me to... adjust some of her older clothes." Well-trained by the resident nobles, the seamstress did not cower or fidget as such, but it did not take a lot of insight to tell that she wanted to be anywhere that was not 'here'.
"In what way?"
"To... to... turn them into pantsuits or jumpsuits... as the fabric allowed."
Behind her golden mask, her eyes widened. What on Earth was Alcina planning!? She knew for a fact that the closest her eldest surviving daughter came to pants was in her underwear. "Did she mention why?"
"No..."
Annoyed at the lack of significant information, she sharply waved them away. Leaning back in her seat, she frowned up at the ceiling. "Well... What now?"