Vienna was buried deep in administrative scrolls in her study, the weight of the Regent's duties pressing against her temples, when the door burst open. Anika stumbled in, her face pale and her breathing ragged.
"My Lady! You must come! The girls... at the House of Omon... they are creating havoc!"
Vienna dropped her quill. "Havoc? What havov?"
"Injuries, My Lady! The people are screaming 'monster'! One of the twins, the little one, is weaving metal like it's silk, pulling pipes from the walls without even touching them. And the nobles... they are already at the gates, demanding an explanation for your decision to shelter 'feral beasts' in the heart of the city."
Vienna's stomach dropped. "Explanation? What explanation is there to give for showing mercy?"
"You know what they want to know, My Lady," Anika said, her voice dropping. "They want to know why you are harboring the very abnormalities the world has spent centuries trying to forget."
Vienna let out a long, weary sigh and stood up immediately. She didn't have time for the front gates or the grand carriages. "The back way. Now."
They used the hidden doors behind the tapestries, slipping through the damp stone corridors of the palace's old foundations to escape the prying eyes of the nobility. When they finally reached the House of Omon, the supposed shelter for the girls, the scene was a nightmare.
Glass was everywhere. The air hummed with a strange, magnetic vibration.
One of the twins was crouched on the ground, her face a mask of primal fury. She held a jagged, broken steel pipe in her hand like a spear, standing guard over her sister, who lay shivering and feverish on the cold floor. A group of five older girls stood in a defensive circle around them.
The chaos was segmented: three girls were scaring a crowd of onlookers away with frantic bursts of fire; four others were throwing furniture and biting anyone who tried to approach; and three more were nowhere to be seen, likely hidden in the rafters.
"CEASE THIS!" Vienna cried out, stepping into the fray. "By my authority as Regent, I command you to stop!"
No one listened. The girl with the pipe let out a low growl, her knuckles white. The crowd outside the iron fence jeered louder, calling for the city guard. Vienna tried to command them again, her voice cracking with desperation, but the girls were beyond the reach of diplomacy.
Suddenly, Anika stepped forward. She didn't use a royal decree. She took a breath and unleashed a voice so thunderous, so sharp with command, that it seemed to vibrate the very air.
"STOP! ALL OF YOU!"
The effect was instantaneous. The girl dropped the pipe with a clatter. The fire-wielders extinguished their flames. The entire group, shocked out of their wits, scrambled backward and gathered in a tight, protective huddle around the twins.
Vienna stared at Anika in awe. The quiet, shy assistant was gone, replaced by someone who looked like a commander.
"My Lady," Anika whispered, gesturing for Vienna to take the lead. "Please."
Vienna didn't move for a second, her eyes fixed on Anika. "My Lady?" Anika prompted again, shifting uncomfortably.
"Ye... yes!" Vienna snapped back to her senses. "Ah, yes." As she passed by her, she leaned in and whispered, "You were great just now."
Anika flushed a deep, violent crimson, her hand flying to tuck a loose strand of hair back behind her ear. "No... no, My Lady... please..." She gestured frantically toward the girls, and Vienna gave her a quick, encouraging thumbs-up before turning back to the group.
"What you lot are up to?" Vienna's voice was stern now. "Don't you know that as the Queen's people, you are expected to show the best of behaviors? I didn't expect you to be in your best forms, but I certainly didn't expect you to resort to such vulgar behaviors in the city of the Queen! You are giving the very people who want to kick you out the perfect opportunity to do so!"
One of the older girls stepped forward, her mouth opening to speak, her eyes brimming with unshed tears.
"I am not ready for your questions, young lady!" Vienna snapped, her frustration finally boiling over. "Look at yourselves! What is this disheveled state? You look like common street brawlers! You should all be ashamed of yourselves for throwing away the dignity I have tried to provide you!"
The twin who had been guarding her sister stood up slowly. She pushed past the older girls, her movements stiff, and walked toward Vienna until she was only a few feet away.
"Ashamed?" the girl rasped, her voice sounding like grinding stones. "Aren't we already made to be ashamed of our very presence every single day?"
"Wha... what?" Vienna stuttered, taken aback by the sheer venom in the child's tone. "What do you mean?"
"What do I mean? Can't you see?" The twin opened her arms wide, spinning in a slow, mocking circle that forced Vienna to actually look, not just at the chaos, but at the girls themselves.
The movement was a revelation of horror. The fine fabrics Vienna had ordered weeks ago were now nothing but tattered, blackened strips of cloth hanging off their bony frames. They were wearing rags that were stiff with dried sweat and filth. The "pretty" dresses had been worn until they rotted, ripping at the seams to reveal skin bruised by the cold and the hard floors of the shelter. They smelled of copper, damp stone, and neglect.
"They... they didn't give you more clothes?" Vienna asked, her voice small, the guilt beginning to coat her tongue like lead.
"More?" The older girl, the one who had tried to speak before, stepped up beside the twin. She let out a sharp, jagged scoff. "What clothes? What more?! You want us to be thankful for the crusts of bread and the water that is leftover from your hounds?!"
Vienna went deathly silent. The "disheveled state" she had just mocked wasn't a choice or a sign of rebellion; it was a sign of total abandonment. They had been left in the same set up, they had come carrying. The House of Omon had been a cage, instead of a home she promised them. They looked less like guests and more like prisoners who had been forgotten. The gold she had sent for their care had clearly never touched their hands, vanishing into someone's pockets. All of the fine linens, fresh meat, and medical care, none of which had reached them was a question mark on her leadership.
She looked at Anika. She looked back with a grim, knowing nod that confirmed her worst fears: the nobility hadn't just been complaining about the girls; they had been actively torturing them under Vienna's own seal.
"Where is the Head of the House of Omon?" Vienna whispered. Her voice wasn't loud this time, but it trembled with a different kind of rage, a cold, sharp edge that made the air turn brittle. "Where is Lord Zalar?"
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