From that moment on, Mother became a part of their lives, whether they liked it or not.
During dinner that night, the servants and chefs worked themselves to the bone just to keep Mother fed. Every plate of food placed in front of her was promptly devoured. Even after Jacques and the children ate their fill for the night, Mother stayed at the table and continued to dine on what was quickly becoming a gigantic meal. In the end, Mother consumed a meal that was fit for fifteen people before she was finally satisfied. Strangely enough, she didn't appear to be bloated in the slightest, even after all the food and wine she had gorged on.
Even more strangely, she didn't take a single bite of the food presented to her at their next family dinner. Or the next one. Or the one after that. Instead, she just sat there in silence and watched everyone else eat, with that same unnerving smile still plastered on her face. At those dinners, Jacques always kept his head down, refusing to make eye contact with anyone else at the table as he ate his meal in silence. It was abundantly clear that he was absolutely terrified of Mother, even though he tried not to show it. Whitley was still confused by this new turn of events, but took the whole thing in stride and kept his thoughts to himself. Winter also tried to get herself used to their new situation, though it was clear she was having trouble doing so. Her eyes constantly flicked between her father and her new… mother. She wanted to speak out, to tell everyone how wrong this whole thing was, but she had a feeling that doing so would be a terrible mistake. Klein just stood by in the background, waiting to be called upon. The butler was already informed about Mother long before the children were. The perturbed expression on his face showed that he was just as uncomfortable about this as everyone else.
Out of all of them, however, Weiss was probably the one most affected by their new guest. Ever since she first saw Mother, the heiress couldn't get the image of those eyes out of her mind. Though she kept her head down like her father and focused her attention on her food, she could feel Mother's eyes staring directly at her. She had no idea if it was her imagination or if Mother was actually staring at her, but she was too afraid to look up and find out.
It wasn't just at those dinners, however. While walking through the long hallways alone, she could feel Mother's eyes boring into the back of her head. Every few moments, she would glance over her shoulder, her little heart beating like a drum. Usually, she saw nothing, but there were a few times where she could've sworn she saw a tall figure peeking at her from around the corner before quickly pulling back out of sight. Whenever that happened, Weiss would run down the hallway without looking back. She was frightened. She was so, so frightened…
Even when she was supposed to be in her bed sleeping, Weiss felt like she was being watched. Every night, Mother insisted on tucking each of the children into their beds. Whenever it was Weiss' turn, Mother would pick her up, rock her back and forth in her arms, and whisper eerie songs into her ear. Songs that Weiss would rather forget about entirely. Then, she would tuck her into bed, kiss her on the cheek, and say, "Goodnight, my Snow Angel."
That was the nickname Mother had given her. For some odd reason, she had no such nicknames for Winter or Whitley. Weiss had no idea why. Did she even want to know?
After that, Mother would leave the room. But Weiss would not go to sleep. Because she knew - deep down, she knew - that Mother did not leave at all. Her bedroom door was always left open just a tiny crack. Beyond that door was pitch black. Weiss was always too afraid to get out of bed and shut the door, because even though she could see nothing but darkness through that crack, she knew that Mother was standing just outside her room, staring at her through the crack that she purposely left behind. Watching her with those empty, dead eyes…
Fortunately, that was all it amounted to. As unsettling as Mother was, she never got angry or violent with them. She never hit them, yelled at them, or demeaned them like their father did. In fact, Jacques seemed to have stopped pressuring his children entirely. So as unsettling as these recent events were, at least some good things came out of it.
But that was about to change. And it all started with the day their lives turned from a bizarre dream to a horrible nightmare. The day when everything changed for them.
It was the day when Klein finally snapped.