Save the world? Fuck that, I want to make money! (RWBY SI) ch 66

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The Colour Revolution ensured that self-expression would never be curtailed. To express oneself no matter what way was what made anyone a living being. To feel was to live. And the greatest way to be alive was through art. Art was that way for artists poured their soul into crafting their pieces. Writing, music, painting, all that involved the mind and the soul was what the Colour Revolution fought for. Fears that the Restorationists of Vacuo were trying to being back the Old World was curtailed as he vowed to respect what the Colour Revolution achieved and even funded not just the refurbishing of Vacuo's treasures but for the chance to make new ones as well. 

Queen-Consort Cinder Asturias nee Strangelove approved of such a program. As that annoying old tart Strangelove had put it, it kept the hoi polloi busy while they did the real work. Cinder herself would not deny countless artists seeking her attention and input, loving the endless hours of being placed on a pedestal. Right where she belonged. 

She sat straight, looking at herself in the mirror. Gods, she was perfect. Her skin was tanned and glowing, her consort's dress hugging tightly to her body and showing off a voluptuous figure that only became better in time. Her breasts were fuller and rounder, her thighs thicker. If anything, it only made getting people to do what she wanted easier. The harem outfit she wore was personally designed by her and made by the best tailors she could find in Vacuo. Desert wasteland it might be, they at least knew how to work silk. Her specifications had netted her a harem outfit of red and gold that exposed her midriff. Thick harem pants, a bandeau for her chest, and colorful beads and jewels adorned her. A thin shawl covered her neck and face, adding an aura of exotic mystique to her. Smooth hands went forward, brushing her hair and applying lotion to her skin. Hand-maidens, they were called. Daughters of the chiefs and other officials in Vacuo looking over her every need. So eager to serve, to please. 

To control. 

"That is enough," Cinder commanded. The girls froze then bowed their heads in deference. Cinder could not help but be pleased. 

"Where is my daughter?" she asked. 

"She is ready, Mistress," one of the girls spoke up, eyes still on the floor. "But..." 

Cinder raised an eyebrow. "But?"

The girls refused to speak. Taking a breath, the same girl continued.

"She refuses to leave her room," she revealed.

"I see," Cinder said simply. She clicked her tongue, earning nervous glances from her ladies. Cinder then stood up, the chair groaning underneath her. 

"Prepare the car. I will speak with her," Cinder declared. 

"Yes, Mistress," the girls declared in chorus as they made themselves scarce. As soon as they had left, Cinder turned for the hallway with a frown on her face.

​The plan for the future had required her birth that Jax fool children. The experience was not pleasant, she had to admit, but if she wanted to keep her position in what Salem was planning, it was necessary. She had done as asked, birthing him two children. The first, he had poured his energy into. The second?

Cinder halted before a fine white door and spoke.

"Isabella? Are you ready?" Cinder asked, her face morphing into that of a concerned mother. For a few seconds, there was silence. Then, a small voice spoke out, awkward and unwieldy. 

"Y-yes, mother. I am ready." 

​"I am coming in," Cinder announced, opening the door. The hotel they stayed at was the most prestigious in all of Vale. Such was its age that it was rumoured to be a summer palace of the Kings back in the day and the furniture around certainly pushed that image. Fine carved marble walls and floors, refined old wood. It had everything one needed to be surrounded in luxury yet Isabella Asturias was huddled in a corner, shivering and hugging her legs. She wore an outfit not too different from Cinder's very own albeit it was much more modest in comparison. Both a conscious choice by Cinder as she wasn't exactly keen on letting others oogle at her own blood neither did she wish for anyone else to glance at anyone but her. 

Isabella was just an exact carbon copy of her albeit with the green eyes of her father. But while Cinder carried herself with pride and dignity, Isabella was simply...

"My dear, why are you hiding in the corner?" Cinder asked sweetly, inwardly calming the rage she felt at how utterly pathetic her own daughter was hiding in the shadows like some low class cur. 

"...I don't want to go," Isabella mumbled. Cinder said nothing. Instead, she lowered herself to sit next to her. 

"And why is that, sweetling?" Cinder asked, her voice full of concern. 

"What if I mess up again? What if I embarrass myself again?" Isabella sniffed. 

"Ah," Cinder remembered. Her debute into the social consciousness of Vacuan society hadn't gone well. Of course, she had a hand in it. Her fool of a husband had allowed Isabella to be educated by someone else. Cinder needed to show an example of what happened when they did not have their hands on things themselves. 

"It will not happen again this time," Cinder vowed to her. Isabella looked up, her eyes so full of innocence and fear. Cinder kept her smile, her hand gingerly placed on her daughter's cheek. 

"We've worked hard for this. You no longer had that fool of a teacher no longer. You have me. We've prepared for this, no?" Cinder said, tilting her head.

"Y-yeah," Isabella nodded. 

"Then you are ready. Show to the world what it means to be a Princess of Vacuo. Show to the world what it means to be my daughter. Don't you want to make me proud?" Cinder asked slowly, letting her voice fall a tad concerned. 

Quickly, Isabella swallowed. "I want to make you proud, mother." 

"Then let's get to it, child. Off to the city. I heard that the Valean Museum of Arts is the best in the world," Cinder smiled, squeezing Isabella's cheek lightly before she stood. Isabella took one more breath before determination filled her eyes. She stood up, looking less like a scared orphan now and more what she was supposed to be. 

Her pliable puppet. 

"I am ready," Isabella declared.

Cinder smiled. 

"Good girl," she praised her. 

Isabella preened. 

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​A/N: Here is Cinder as a mother. 

​To be honest, I don't really think Cinder would be outwardly cruel to her children if she ever had any. Cinder is at most a manipulator and she would most likely Mother Gothel her kids like in Tangled. Presenting herself as a kind and caring person only to mask off when things are no longer convenient for her. 

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