Chapter Text
You woke up to the sounds of the bustling village. The chill of winter had finally lifted, and spring had brought a much-needed boost in everyone’s moods. It had also meant a decrease in sickness.
As the daughter of the only doctor for miles around, you had spent most of the winter months delivering medicine to your neighbours.
Your trips to help the unfortunate souls taken in by Luiza had been the most challenging. You had walked in a month ago and seen a young woman cowering in the corner while Luiza and another villager, Anton, were arguing in hushed tones.
“I won’t have her go to that place of blood and death!”
“Anton, please try to understand that this is the way things are. Mother Miranda herself appointed Lady Dimitrescu as one of the Four Lords, you cannot go against her authority.”
“But my daughter-“
“Your daughter has been called to employment at the castle and must fulfil her duties. The maidens who are deemed worthy have visiting privileges. I pray for both your sakes that she will be one of them.”
Anton had taken one last glance at his daughter and stormed past you, surely to find solace in a bottle at the tavern. The girl had been taken to the castle several hours later. She had not returned.
Shaking yourself out of the memory, you got out of bed and dressed for the day ahead. Your father was already awake and preparing his office for any patients he would receive today.
Despite the isolated nature of the village, he had managed to acquire medical equipment and supplies through a business arrangement made with the Duke long before your birth. You had occasionally interacted with the rather large man on behalf of your father. Today would be one of those days.
“Good morning Y/N. I’m rather busy today, could you meet the Duke for me? He should be on the road to the castle by now.”
“Of course” you replied, picking up the shopping list and bag of Lei he had left for you on the kitchen table. “I shouldn’t be too long.”
Although many were wary of going towards the castle to purchase items from the Duke, it had never particularly worried you. The journey had always been a pleasant break from everyday village life.
Furthermore, you were curious to catch a glimpse of Lady Dimitrescu. Your father was sometimes called to the castle if any of the inhabitants required medical attention, but you had never accompanied him. He would not allow it.
“I could not risk anything happening to you and I don’t want to hear another word on the matter” he had said the first time you’d asked. Seeing the Duke was the absolute closest you were allowed to go.
“Ah Y/N! It’s a pleasure to see you safe. Here to collect the supplies your father ordered?”
“Morning Duke” you replied, handing him the money. “Yes, it’s just these today. Are you going to the castle later? What is it like there? Do you meet with Lady Dimitrescu?”
The Duke chuckled at your questions. “I don’t think I’ve ever met someone so eager to discover the inner workings of Castle Dimitrescu. Certainly no one who would enquire about Her Ladyship out of nothing more than genuine curiosity.”
“Oh I’m not interested in what Lady Dimitrescu does” you lied. “I just think the castle looks so grand from the outside that the interior must be spectacular. Anyway, I’d better take these back to father.” You took the basket of medical supplies he was holding and went on your way with a quick wave to the Duke.
You had done the right thing by lying. How could you possibly begin to explain your real motivations? No one would understand, not when they all talked of the castle with whispers and fearful glances. Not when their fear made far more sense than your yearning.
Every Sunday yourself and the other villagers would attend church. Mother Miranda was to be treated as a God.
However, you had always been drawn to the picture of Lady Dimitrescu. Her regal pose, her enchanting eyes, her full lips. To worship at the altar of Lady Dimitrescu would be to know true bliss.
You still gave Mother Miranda the required respect, of course you did. It would be unwise to deviate from the norm.
Therefore, your feelings would remain hidden.
After all, it was just an infatuation. You were fully aware that it couldn’t be anything more when you hadn’t even met Lady Dimitrescu in person.
Perhaps in another life the two of you would have met and this crush could have blossomed into something more. A deep, mutual connection. Maybe even, did you dare to dream it, love?
“Don’t be ridiculous Y/N,” you snapped at yourself. “Filling your head up with impossible scenarios when you have a life right in front of you.”
Your father was waiting for the supplies and daydreaming would only further delay your return.
Since childhood he had been training you to take his place. First came the basic first aid, prompted by you scraping your knee while playing with Elena and the other village children. Next was the setting of a bone after one of the workers at Lord Heisenberg’s factory had an accident.
Years passed and you were eventually assisting with surgeries. Blood and gore had little impact on you by this point.
“There will always be people in need of help and we are here to provide it however we can.”
This was something you always kept inside your mind.
The villagers were largely cut off from the rest of civilization, reliant on their own skills and the occasional trader. Thankfully, you had electricity, plumbing, and telephones inside your houses. You would have packed your bags and left the first moment of your eighteenth birthday otherwise.
Now, at twenty-one, you were glad to have stayed despite these limitations. Your father had been right about the people needing both of you.
Most girls your age were either in employment or married, fulfilling the family responsibilities drilled into them from a young age. Settling down with a husband obviously wasn’t a goal of yours. Not that you’d tell anyone.
“I’m home father!” you shouted while stepping inside. “Sorry that I took so long, I got side-tracked talking to the Duke. Have you had any patients yet?”
You froze, spotting your father at the kitchen table with his head in his hands. He was shaking.
“Father?”
“I’m so sorry.” His words were little more than a whisper. Your eyes fell on the telephone which had been thrown from its usual place by the door and now lay smashed on the floor. Something was seriously wrong.
He turned to face you then, his eyes filled with a pain you hadn’t seen since your mother passed.
“Pack your things. Lady Dimitrescu has sent for you.”