Viktor asked her to walk with him. Not with a leash, not with chains, not with threats. Just a
question, soft and unexpected: "Would you like to walk the grounds?" Ayoka hesitated
worrying about her child safety while she was gone,but Sabilne gave her an side glance and
spoke up first "I shall get her ready for the walk,Master Viktor." Viktor nodded his head and
started to walk out and Sabline does an sigh and motherly tone:"Your lucky that he finds you
intersting,Cher."
Ayoka nods her in agreement and start to get ready for the outing.Sabline was watching the
child as he sleep and Benoît stood half-invisible in the corner like a curtain shadow. She
glanced toward the window. A storm had passed, and the grass gleamed silver in the weak
sun. Viktor came back to ask her directly "Are you ready to go?" and Ayoka answer in quite
manner "Yes, Master Viktor.". He turned and left the attic stairs open behind him. She followe
with intension to only to see what waited outside her painted cage.Viktor asked her to walk
with him. Not with a leash, not with chains, not with threats. Just a question, soft and
unexpected: "Would you like to walk the grounds?"
Ayoka hesitated, her thoughts immediately turning to Malik. What if something happened
while she was gone? But before she could answer, Viktor stepped forward, knelt, and gently
unlocked the chain at her ankle—fully, without comment. No tether. No reminder. Just
freedom, however brief.
It rattled her more than she expected. The absence felt heavier than the chain itself. She
remembered the story of elephants trained young—tied with rope so thin they could have
broken it, but they didn't. And when they grew, they still didn't. The memory of restraint was
enough.
She stared down at her bare ankle, unsure if this was mercy or manipulation.Before she could
speak, Sabine gave her a side glance and answered instead, "I shall get her ready for the
walk, Master Viktor." Viktor nodded and stepped out. Sabine sighed softly and shook her head.
"You're lucky he finds you interesting, cher," she muttered in a motherly tone.
Sabine had dressed her in something bold—an experimental design she claimed warded off
shadows. The fit was tight, almost theatrical, hugging Ayoka's figure in ways that made her
feel both regal and restrained. Layers of velvet clung to her hips while the bodice lifted her
chest with no hint of subtlety. "Well," Sabine had muttered, adjusting the final strap with a
grin, "that fine bosom and backside of yours will have the whole house tripping over itself.
You'll catch up on all the time lost."
Ayoka's makeup shimmered in delicate motifs—birds mid-flight and slender vines curled like
spells—painted carefully across her cheeks and temples. She looked like a symbol of
something forgotten, something sacred. She didn't know what ritual she was being dressed
for, only that it wasn't hers. And so she took comfort where she could: in the small magical
fan she slipped into her corset. The enchanted piece pulsed gently, a portable breeze that
soothed her under the tight gown. It was her hidden luxury, her private magic. This wasn't for
her. It was a role, a test, a gilded lie—and she had learned long ago how to live inside
someone else's story.
Ayoka looked into the mirror and paused. She had never worn anything this fine—this
powerful. She was used to being dressed like a porcelain saint, all purity and softness, forced
into the image of meekness. But this? This was something else. Something closer to a goddess
than a ghost. Even if she was still trapped in a dollhouse, at least this wasn't the look of a
gentle lover. The thought of being made to look soft again made her shiver.
Behind her, Sabine was tending quietly to Malik, humming as she adjusted his blanket. Benoît
lingered at the edge of the room, nearly indistinguishable from the folds of curtain and
shadow. Outside, a storm had passed. The grass beyond the warped glass shimmered with
silver as if the bayou itself was holding its breath.
Then came Viktor's voice, smooth and direct. "Why is she dressed like this?"
Sabine turned with a calm expression and answered evenly, "Because I didn't want her to
overheat in those thick silks, Master Viktor. And the stitching is spelled—for protection. You
know how the marsh shifts. There've been more sightings lately. The couvrefeu beasts are
creeping closer to the edges."
Ayoka's brow lifted slightly. She'd heard of the couvrefeu—swamp-stalking creatures with
soot-colored scales and mouths full of teeth that glowed like lanterns. They'd once been
whispered about as bedtime threats, but in recent months, even the bravest house boys no
longer strayed past dusk.
Viktor nodded, but his eyes lingered on her longer than necessary before stepping away.
Ayoka adjusted the magical fan tucked into her bodice and murmured to herself, "Not the
look I chose... but at least it breathes better than virtue."