Sancta Terra

The drive home was quiet. She’d played on her phone, checking stocks and numbers and the lengthy lists, but then she also might have bought a few things online. Shoes her biggest culprit. The vampiress had a rather extensive collection of shoes, finding that the right shoe would set the mood for the day. Although tonight, her feet were practically dying having been on them all day. Heels might’ve not been practical for work, but Mari hadn’t minded. She had sparred with her mother more than once. That said enough. It made her strong though, and for that, Mari never really complained, even when she should. Instead, she persevered– dusting herself off and getting right back up to continue on like nothing bothered her. It seemed harsh, but it also allowed for Mari to think with her head and not her heart, making decisions easy. It wasn’t the most graceful of being a Lady, but something told her that being a Lady wasn’t all that it was cracked up to be and at least no one would take advantage of her. 

As the car began to slow, she’d peer up through the windows to her home, awaiting for the doors to open before she’d step out, taking the hand of her driver. “Thank you,” she spoke softly, the driver giving her but a small nod and moving to get the car out of the way and parked. Today was Sunday. She had half expected there to be a ton of food, with her Papá probably busy with work, and her Madre, ready to greet her, but it seemed when she had gone inside that silence would fill the air. Looking at one of the hired servants, brows stitched together in mild confusion, they’d nod their head towards the second floor, and in doing so brought the knowing. It was to be a ladies night. 

Mari makes her way up the stairs, her heels easily heard with each step she took, one foot in front of the other. It wasn’t until she made it within her parent’s room, that she’d lift one foot at a time behind her to remove her heels then carelessly dropping them on the floor, her body finally giving out to how tired she’d been. Even if she was a vampire. She didn’t care, she was happy to be home. Mari would wrap her arms around her mother, giving her the same attention and tight hug. Though a small laugh would escape her. “I know, I know. Hola, Madre.” Stealing her mother’s beer with a cheeky little grin and a wink, she’d take a sip before plopping down beside her as instructed, but she’d turn her body so that she’d lie down instead. Finding that she would rest her head in her mother’s lap. “No, I didn’t. Must be at the factory tonight. I think we have a big sale on the way.” Mari would stretch, one leg fallen on the side, with the other hung over the arm of the couch. “He seems more busy these days. Is everything going smoothly with the King?” While she hadn’t cared about the politics of it all, or the King for that matter, she knew that someday she would have to take the mantle. The very thought daunting. 

Eyes would peer over the array of food, but she would pause to eat, the mention of the club drawing her to slowly close her eyes. She didn’t even need to see her mother’s face to know what was on it, nuzzling just slightly to get more comfortable. “It was nothing. I handled it, but–” she’d pause, eyes finally glancing up towards her mother while she ate. “It’s becoming more frequent. We check at the door, but I’m beginning to think someone on staff is bringing it in.” Not that she wanted to point fingers. Not when Mari took care of her own, like her parents had instilled within her. They weren’t family, but she liked to think they were. Just unrelated. “I feel more sorry for the sod that is doing it. I can’t promise I won’t kill them.” She didn’t like people fucking with her things. 

Finally she would sit up, taking a fork instead to jab at a piece of orange chicken to stuff into her mouth with a satisfying hum. “Thanks, Mamá~” She’d again give her cheeky little grin. Something so rare outside of her family. Despite how hard they pushed her, she loved them and her mother always made her feel powerful and empowered. “Can we have a dog?” She’d look over, knowing the answer would be a hard no, but she thought she would at least ask. Thinking back on her earlier jog and the dog she’d found at the park. 

“I don’t think he’s more busy than usual?” Magda mentioned, setting aside one of the cartons of food and pulling a bottle of blood over to her. Wiping off the excess water with a napkin, she popped it open - taking a smell before a sip. “But then again, I haven’t been paying attention to sales recently. I left it with him, he likes it more than I do. And the King is...fine? I haven’t had a chance to speak with him in a while, too many council meetings to get a word in edge-wise. We’ll need to have a lunch soon.” Magda sat with her thoughts on that for a moment, filing it away in her brain. 

“Now that I think of it though, your father did mention a returning customer...” She’d speak with him later on the subject, but Magda knew that weapons sales typically predicated upheaval somewhere in the world. Especially over the last couple of years. 

She didn’t want to think on such things though, she wanted to spend time with her girl. Chuckling as Mari explained the situation at the nightclub in a little bit more detail, Magda remained wordless; simply nodding at times. When she spoke of killing however, Magda let out a heavier laugh. “If you’re going to kill anyone, make sure you do it in a way that sends the message. Someone just...disappearing doesn’t quite have the same ring to it as carving the words ‘Have Respect’ across someone’s ribcage.” Magda had been there, she’d done it, she’d seen it. One day - whether soon or far; Mari would have to do it, would have to see it. Reaching out, she hugged her daughter to her side - another laugh spilling out of her at the request.

“I’m more of a cat person myself, mi hija.” 

She’d been the first outside when the meeting was ended. She needed the air, the chance to gather her thoughts. A cigarette hung between her fingers but it was nearly burnt to nothing - she’d only taken a couple of drags before her mind caught up to the rest of her. As more and more people piled out of the building, Magda adjusted her sunglasses - keeping an eye peeled for the head of red hair. 

“Nia.” She called to the woman when she appeared. Leaning against one of the decorative pillars outside, Magda held up one hand in greeting. “Is your afternoon free?” She pushed off the pillar - waving one hand towards the guardsmen standing beside the car sent to pick her up. “I meant no offense prior but I also do not believe I have adequately explained our position...” She let the words drag. She was - of course, referencing the near-row the two had just had in the Council chambers. If that’s what one could call it? Spirited debate might seem more appropriate, Magda thought to herself. 

A newly purchased property on the island - everything checked out, all the codes were to up to date. She didn’t feel she needed to explain to the entire Council what it’s use was for. The King knew and that was all she needed. Or so she’d thought. But even though she could disregard the witch - she had no reason to burn bridges or create enemies. No matter how benign the adversity might be. More flies with honey and all that. 

“Would you allow me to take you to lunch? It’s still early and my next appointment isn’t for a few hours.” She glanced down to ruined cigarette and sighed, squashing the ember out under the heel of her Louboutin’s. “There’s an excellent little bistro a few blocks down.” She moved closer towards the car at a meandering pace - the guard immediately moving to open the back door of the Rolls-Royce for her. “Whataya say, amiga?”

It was not the custom to be certain. Sunday dinner was always an affair in the Castillo home. Magda always insisted that both her husband as well as her daughter be on time, come with conversation, come with news - just...something to fill the air. That was the custom. But as Magda sat on a couch in her room - a pile of takeout resting on the coffee table, a few bottles of blood sitting in a warm bowl of water to keep them close to body temperature - she resigned that this would simply have to do. 

Her husband was away - helping finalize a number of important sales and she hadn’t been of the mind to accompany him. He’d asked, of course - but the idea of standing around while old men bickered on whether or not a particular rifle could kill a man at however far a distance was not her idea of a fulfilling evening. And so - she’d simply cast it aside, ordered in for her time with Mari. Easier to give the chef a night off. 

She lifted the beer to her lips, taking a deep pull of the bottle while she scrolled through Netflix - her attention only half there; the other half listening for the tell-tale signs of her daughter’s arrival. Somewhere down below, she heard a door open - heard the bodyguards greet her. Magda smiled to herself as she tuned her ears to the sound of footsteps on the hardwood stairs. 

When the door opened; she pushed herself to her feet - wrapping Mari up in a tight hug before kissing her on her temple. “You’re late, mi hija.” She chuckled, kissing her again on the cheek. Taking a couple of steps back, Magda sat herself back down - nodding to the space beside her on the couch. “Papá won’t be home for a while yet. Business to attend too, did you see him down at the ‘Donna? He mentioned something about having to pick up stock before heading out...” Years upon years ago - Magda might’ve been worried for her husband. Everything they did was legal but that didn’t stop others from casting laws to the wind to try to take what it was they were peddling. But after seven centuries of seeing her husband in action - she had little doubt he’d return entirely nonplussed. 

Even if he did end up having to kill any number of fools. 

“I got your favorites.” She said, pulling out a carton of food. Taking up a pair of chopsticks, she lifted an eggroll to her mouth - crunching in while she reclined. “Anything happen? Heard something about a drug deal in the club...?” She eyed Mari for a moment, a small smirk playing at her mouth. “I won’t preach at you, don’t worry - I know you know.”