Chapter Text
It’s strange how quickly everything got peaceful back again. At least you think so, you can’t tell how much time passed.
How much time passed… from what?
What happened?
It’s all blurry, yet…
Your house got smaller and smaller with every step you took. Marching away, carrying a heavy, old backpack on your back you did your best to cut yourself off from all the cries and chaotic prayers to no one that could be heard in the place you once called your home.
You run, stumble, run again.
Some of the screams belonged to your parents. Their voices stood out to your memory the most - your mother’s pathetic begging, father’s furious yelling… Did they really not get it already? You’re not going back, back, back
back
back-
Back to present, back to your current state - the peace you are feeling is unfamiliar, it’s overwhelming.
Slowly returning to the realm of awake, you let out a single, soft sigh of relief. The sound of a nearby fireplace accompanies you while you are drowning in the most comfortable bedding you ever had a chance to touch.
You haven’t opened your eyes yet and you don’t want to. Eventually you will have to do so. You may remember little, only brief shards of what you went through, but you surely don’t remember finding any shelter.
And the bed you are laying on? Undoubtedly belongs to someone.
The comfort and sense of security you were feeling just a moment ago left your body in a blink. Instead, it got replaced by goosebumps that spread all over your body. You must admit, the thought of waking up in a stranger’s bed, no matter how comfortable it is, is a little concerning.
Weird.
Once you open your eyes, you focus not to what you can see, but what you can smell.
Lovely perfume. A smell that drills it’s way into your mind to drive you crazy, completely mad. You won’t forget it for longer than you might think.
Another thing you notice is that the fireplace is not the only thing making a noise. You hear the sounds of… Of someone’s presence.
Pages turning, chair quietly creaking as someone makes barely visible moves while sitting on it,
breath. You hear someone breathe.
You regain your sight.
Your eyes widen as you manage to finally shift your focus to the stranger. A stranger, who seems to be sitting by this bed for a while now. A stranger, who hides their face behind a book, showing only their eyes.
Is it just you or ar those eyes…
different,
other,
wrong?
Without saying a word you two are making a tense eye contact.
Tense… No, doesn’t sound right. Inviting? Strange… New. Welcoming. Hypnotyzing…?
Before you lose your mind wondering, the silence in which you kept staring at the stranger gets broken by sound of book being gently put down on lap.
Her lap.
She revealed her face.
You are now able to witness the full grace of a woman, who for some reason decided to spend her time on reading by your side.
Truly a lady.
The lady is obviously older than you. Judging by wrinkles on her face, she could be about your mother’s age.
Her face is covered in makeup - something you never got to try yourself. Her full lips are fascinating shade of red. You can’t decide which one describes it better…
Rose or blood?
Bloody rose?
The outfit she is wearing definitely cost more than your entire life. An elegant, yet with visible marks of usage dress seems to fit the lady’s body perfectly. Like it’s a part of her.
Just like ridiculously big hat on her head, black leather gloves, an unnaturally-colored foundation covering her entire skin
sick… (alluring)
sick…! (charming) eyes.
For some reason the woman seems not only taller but also bigger than she probably is. This must be some sort of an illusion, caused by your poor point of view.
She haven’t even said a word, moved an inch since your eyes met and yet… there is a concerning aura surrounding her.
An aura that makes you want to leave all your hopes, dreams and desires behind in order to get to know her. To learn about her. To obsess over her.
At least you are aware of how drawn you feel towards the nice-smelling lady.
You gulp, hoping it’s not visible that you are hardly holding yourself together. Without breaking the prolonged eye contact, you decide to slowly sit up.
No fast movements… No fast moves… Just make sure to keep-
Ouch!
You helplessly fall back down onto the pillow. For some reason the back of your head hurts like hell. Hurts like damn hell. With each bit more demanding move you make, you feel like the ache is tearing your skull open.
― Hm. ― is the only thing you hear from the lady. She must have noticed your struggle. There’s no way she did not. Especially since her expression… softened.
You could swear there is a shade of concern somewhere deep, deep inside her golden eyes.
Wait, what color are her eyes again?
You know them. You recognize them. Or do you…?
― Oh. Oooh, you poor thing. I didn’t expect you to wake up ever again. ― “And I didn’t expect waking up here, duh.” you think after the lady decides to speak up once again. That’s such a friendly, welcoming and absolutely not peculiar to say to your barely awaken guest. ― A lucky girl you are. After recieving such damage you wake up as if nothing’s wrong…
Squinting your eyes more than you already did, your lips turn narrow as you let out a long, confused "Uhhhh…” from deep down your throat.
You were never good at reading emotions, yet you can almost bet your left hand that the lady MIGHT be sarcastic. You don’t like it. You don’t like the fact that you have no idea what happened to you before, that you’re laying in a bed you are basically trapped in because you can’t move and the most of all… You hate how you can’t tell whether you want to slap this woman’s face or take it into your hands and spend hours admiring every single feature of it.
You hate how scared and helpless you are. But if you had the balls to run away from your shitty home, surely you must have some courage to begin a conversation with your 'kind’ host/possible captor.
Right?
Breathe in.
Breathe out.
Here goes nothing!
― What-
― Yes, sweet thing? ― a barely noticeable grin makes it’s way onto the lady’s face as she interrupts you.
That was indeed nothing.
Your first reaction is to stare at her with your jawn dropped. You can’t tell if you are caught off guard by how bold she is or…something else.
Instead of standing up to nice-smelling, older lady you find yourself blushing and choking on nothing but air like an utter fool.
Which you totally are by the way.
The lady looks way too amused than she should considering you’re not only dying out embarrassement but also lack of air.
She leans in close, you hear the chair creak once again. This time louder. Her hand is reaching out towards you. You could swear it’s all happening in slow motion.
But no, that’s just the grace this woman moves with. It comes naturally for her.
Her hand wanders close to your neck. It looks like she’s about to end your suffering by choking you herself. Well, good to know she knows what empathy is but you don’t feel like dying. Not today.
Then her palm lays on your chest. Before you can even react, you feel great pressure pushing against your body.
You feel the air freely flowing through your lungs. You are choking no more.
She knew what she was doing.
You feel yourself sinking into the mattress. You feel so weak and pathetically small against the lady’s hand…
Seeing you regain your ability to breathe, the lady lets out a happy hum and glances at you, her hand still on the chest of yours.
It doesn’t look like she’s about to back away any soon.
A giggle comes out of lady’s entertained grin.
― My apologies, I wouldn’t dare to invade your personal space if it wasn’t fully necessary. I could never forgive myself if I would let you hurt yourself… again. ― her hand remains pushing your chest down into the mattress, keeping you in place. You could swear it left a trail in your skin.
― Again? ― you mutter. Your voice sounds a little more rasp than it usually does.
The lady’s brows raise slightly. Her expression gets soft, caring… as if she is looking at a wet, pathetic stray kitten.
It’s dehumanizing.
― My bad. I forgot how confused you actually must be. ― her hand leaves your chest. You feel as if there is a blank space left above your heart. ― Are you comfortable? As much as you can be in your current state. Does your head hurt?
― It… does… How did you… ― you pause as you realize you have no idea how to refer to the lady. Before you have a chance to ask, she responds to your unfinished question.
― As far as I’m aware you hit your head. You did so numerous times.
That is all the explanation you recieve. Very unsatisfying.
So far you are certain only of very few things: you are injured, in a bed placed in someone’s house somewhere. That’s very specific!!!
Oh right, just as specific as all the information you have about the lady. The suspicious, divine-smelling lady.
You miss her hand.
Your hands unconciously raise. Your right hand reaches out for the lady, for her touch and comfort.
How pathetic is that?
The lady notices your struggle to do… whatever you are trying to. (From her point of view that must look weirder than it is.) With a sigh and worry on her pretty (her WHAT) face she gently lays your hands back down.
She gets up from the chair and then leans in even closer than before. Her hand now on your forehead.
And your face? Suspiciously close to her bust.
Is she hot? Is it the lack of air?? Is it getting hot in here???
― ...Japierdole. Jakie... jakie spore... Duże??? Spore. Ogromne! ― idiotic foreign mumble escapes your mouth before you realize it. Your face entirely turns red and you feel like there is less and less air to breathe with.
― Uh oh… ― lady’s golden eyes meet yours. You felt her gaze on yourself for a while now, but you were a little too distracted looking… somewhere else. ― Looks like someone has fever again, sweet thing. That would explain your delirium…
Delirium? Uh sure, let’s stick to calling it that.
You let the lady stroke your forehead gently. She either tries to measure your temperature or soothe you. Either one is… suspiciously nice.
The room you two are in is really nice. You never saw architecture this… luxurious. A total opposite of your parents’ house.
It’s filled with warmth thanks to the fireplace and a good deal of candles. If it wasn’t for the candles the room would be very shadowy as all the windows are covered with heavy curtains.
The candles do provide light, but not enough to… read.
Wooden furniture - mostly made of dark wood. You were always a huge fan of wood and things made of it. You like it’s smell, the sound it makes when you knock or step on it… oh everything!!!
To summarize : this place is absolutely to your liking. Breathtaking. Truly castle-worthy.
Castle…
Your eyes widen in realization - there is only one castle in this region.
Your gaze wanders to the lady again.
How did could she even tell you have a fever?
Isn’t she wearing gloves…?
This makes you snap out a little of charm that this room and your accompany put you under.
The first thing you do is to move a little, just enough to back off from caring, now also visibly surprised, lady. You gulp. Your mouth slowly opens, even before you think of what you are about to say.
― Dimitrescu…? ― this surname causes unpleasant ringing in your ears. You recognize it… You’ve heard it before… It’s all you remember.
The castle.
And the rumours spread around it.
The infamous Lady Dimitrescu glances at you, her mouth delicately agape. She is acting very serene and lady-like for someone so surprised.
Yet the surprised is quickly washed off off her face with a grin - somewhat pleased, proud grin.
― What a clever girl~ ― a melodic purr escapes Lady Dimitrescu’s lips before she decides to give your head one, quick pat. Now that you think about it… no one ever praised you for anything before. Even if, no one ever did it so… nasty??? What THE FUCK WAS THAT.
WHY DID YOU LIKE IT.
CO DO KURWY.
You feel your blood rush in some places you prefer not to adress.
― You keep impressing me. First you faint and somehow survive a harsh head encounter with the threshold, ― Lady Dimitrescu continues, grin on her face turning wider and wider as she examines the pure confusion on your face. ― then you have your head hit countless of times on stairs right from ground floor to third… All in less than a day! No internal bleeding, serious brain damage… and the most surprisingly - no fatal spine damage either!
Lady Dimitrescu probably keeps going on and on about how talented and gifted you are to still somehow be living, but you can’t say so for sure. You stopped catching up with what she’s saying after-
after… oh right, that damn praise!
Your mind is flooded with things you definitely shouldn’t focus on right now, such as Dimitrescu’s melodic voice constantly echoing in your head, her perfume or the fact that you happened to memorize all the stretch marks on her chest.
― Still feeling quite dizzy, aren’t you sweet thi- Oh right… Pardon my manners, I still haven’t asked you for an introduction. What is your name, sweetness?
― … Don’t know, what’s yours? ― you ask before you get to think. Your question is followed by a nervous chuckle. She’s probably not going to noice you weren’t listening anyway.
She did notice. You spent some time with her already, but if you didn’t you’d think she looks a little… hurt. A certain spark in her eyes is gone, unlike her smile which is still there, just slightly weaker.
She sits back on her creaking chair. It takes a while of hesitation before Lady Dimitrescu decides to speak up again.
― You won’t need it, sweet thing. Everyone refers to me using my title and I would like it to stay this way. ― Lady Dimitrescu uses overly sweet tone, like she’s explaining something to a dumb kid.
You’ve heard too much of that tone in your life
― Besides, I asked first… ― her lips now curled into a playful smirk as she awaits your answer.
You’re not going to let down so easily. She might be gorgeous. She might know a thing or two.
But you’re not letting anyone mess with you like that. Even a possibly rich lady.
― I haven’t learned yours so… so it wouldn’t be fair if you knew mine. I think. ― you quickly turn your gaze away from Lady Dimitrescu. After all you’re not as brave as you thought. ― However I see no issue with sharing my surname. ― You reach out your shaking hand to the lady. Very poor decision which awakened your headache. ― Kurst. It’s… it’s a pleasure to meet you, Lady Dimitrescu.
You feel your hand being first taken carefully, then… kissed.
It’s more of a brief, soft graze of Lady Dimitrescu’s lips on your shaking palm than a kiss, yet… enough to send a quick shiver through your entire body.
You stare at Lady Dimitrescu with your eyes widen, your cheeks turning redder with each moment.
No one ever treated you with… with such respect… or any respect, honestly.
Was that her response? A silent "Nice to meet you too”?
It’s hard to tell as the lady seems… troubled. Visibly unhappy with lack of answer for her question, Lady Dimitrescu got defeated. By a petite, simple and terribly injured village girl.
Quite an achievement, Kaetrina Kurst.
― I admit I do feel disappointed. I spent many hours waiting for you to awake… I hoped you and I could have a little chat. ― Lady Dimitrescu keeps glancing at your hand and a lipstick mark left on it. ― All this just for you to regain conciousness and brush off my polite request like that. Tsk, tsk, tsk…
― We can still have a chat, Lady Dimitrescu. Lack of my name does not crash this plan just like yours doesn’t. ― you respond with a smile that was probably a bit too bold. Your hand still in hers. ― You said you… waited long for me to wake up, correct? How long exactly? For… how long am I here? How did I get here??
― Too much at once, miss Kurst. ― you feel Lady Dimitrescu let go of your hand. That stinging feeling of emptiness hits you again. ― I believe you arrived in my humble castle about seven hours ago. I am sitting by your side for six hours now… lucky you~ Oh and the last question? I’m afraid I can’t answer it. My girls on the other hand… they are the ones who alerted me about your… your unexpected visit. The odds are they know a thing or two about your arrival.
― Your… who…? Nevermind, is there any chance I could talk with them? I could use any information honestly.
― Not today, no. ― Lady Dimitrescu almost instantly shakes her head. ― I don’t want you to overtire yourself like that. It’s too soon for you to even sit, walking could be… even fatal in your condition. It’s tough to tell how much more your spine can take…
― There is no need for me to stand up. Can’t… can’t they come in here? I’m not too tired for a visit. ― you insist.
― That would be a poor idea, I believe. I was planning on keeping your room a secret for some time. My daughters… By revealing the room you are staying in, I would rob you of any possible opportunities to rest. Ever again. They are so interested in outsiders…
Daughters, huh?
Well, it’s true you’re not in the best condition but it appears curiosity is stronger than the pain. You’re going to talk with some annoying gremlins and there is nothing stopping you from it.
Not a single thing.
― … I’ll give walking a shot, okay?
― Miss Kurst… ― now Dimitrescu insists, softly trying to convince you.
In order to prove your strenght (and stupidity) you gather all power that’s left in your body to sit on the bed.
You succeed. Sort of.
Your limbs are trembling, your breath gets heavier and the back of your head aches more than it did before.
You feel like something is drilling a hole through your skull.
Buuut you’re sitting!
― See? See? That..? Was easy!
― Miss Kurst… ― her voice turns into more of a groan. The lady’s reprimand does make you hesitate for a moment. But only a moment.
― Wait until I get up.
― Kurst!
You couldn’t care less for Lady Dimitrescu’s hiss. She can’t tell you what to do, she’s not your mother!
… Only a stranger who happens to care more for your well-being than she ever did.
What you need now is not health but answers.
Holding the bed frame you manage to get up. There are good news and bad ones.
Good news: you keep balance. If you had unlimited time and help with going down the mentioned before stairs, you would be more than able to meet Lady Dimitrescu’s daughters.
… Bad news are you feel your skull crushing and you just discovered that your spine and right leg hurt as well.
Hooray.
― You… You reckless… irresponsible!- ― You hear Lady Dimitrescu grit her teeth… loose her temper before you feel her hands on your waist, desperately trying to tuck you back in bed.
You refuse. You hold onto the frame of bed so tightly… You already got up and it hurts anyway, why waste the effort?
― If you don’t let me go now, I’ll sneak out later. I will try to find a way to go talk with them! I’ll… I’ll-!
― I know! I… know. ― Lady Dimitrescu’s voice is filled with defeat, her grasp is less and less sensible.
Lady Dimitrescu does let go of you and gets up, leaving you confused (but standing!!!).
Dimitrescu approaches the window. It’s almost as if she leaves a fragrance trace - every place where she stepped smells like her.
Overpowering. Suffocating. Tantalizing.
Eventually the whole place fills up with her scent.
She opens the curtains, her movements are less graceful and more… firm.
You hear the window open. Not too long after you hear flick of a lighter.
And there comes another smell - smell of cigarettes.
At first it’s mix with Dimitrescu’s perfume is awful. Over time these two scents, completely different from eachother… work out. They work out creating an addicting, deathly fragrance.
Lady Dimitrescu takes a puff of her cigarette, pretending she doesn’t see you. For some reason she looks… incredibly drained. Quite miserable even.
You feel bad for her a little. Fine, you feel bad for her a little more than you would like to admit.
However you are not going to submit. You won with her once, you can easily do it again.
Didn’t you already?
― You are not going to stop until I consent, are you? ― her golden eyes once again lay on you, your face,
your eyes.
― Of course not. ― you respond confidently. In order to seem even more convincing you try slowly taking a step. ― In fact I might keep overworking myself until I perish.
― Oh stop that, you fool! ― this time the way Lady Dimitrescu hisses at you actually makes you listen. Dimitrescu glowers at you. There is no hint of her previous smiles or spark in eyes… Just a mix of all that’s left.
Concern for you?
Another puff.
― Your stubbornness might get you killed one day, miss Kurst. Speaking from… experience.
― Can’t wait.
Owner of golden eyes seems to be looking daggers at you. Why do you still suspect she has a soft spot for you?
Sure her acting was a little off, but she has no reason to.
A long, exhausted sigh.
― You better be as strong as you say. I am not about to carry you anywhere. ― Lady’s cigarette is put out and the window immediately gets closed. ― I’ll get Mariola to bring you some crutches.
•❅───✧❅•❅✧───❅•
Lady Dimitrescu turned out to be frank when it comes to promises.
Even though you do limp rather well with your crutches, you were quickly defeated by the sight of… stairs. Lots of stairs.
Lady Dimitrescu did not wait for you - on the contrary. She made her way down before you could even say anything and just… glared at you. As if she wanted to prove you how foolish you are by… even being here at the moment instead of laying in bed like a-
clever girl would.
Was it a smirk on her face? You couldn’t really tell. It was so fucking high you couldn’t see.
Instead of going back upstairs and helping the poor damsel in distress (you, obviously) Lady Dimitrescu got herself… helpers. Four women approached her after a single command.
Among them you recognize one - Mariola. You had a chance to meet her as she brought you the crutches.
The maids approached you with such grace for someone who just went up several stairs… Probably to impress the Lady who was constantly watching them, as if she was making sure they won’t hurt you… At least that’s what you would think if you didn’t know Lady Dimitrescu is terribly upset with you and probably would like to see you fall down those stairs.
To your surprise (though you don’t know what you were expecting) the maids’ task was to help you walk down the stairs. After multiple failed attempts of yours to walk down the stairs, Lady Dimitrescu suggested that the maids should carry you.
And so they did. Nobody was happy with that, as you were constantly feeling like the three maids are about to drop you and they felt… like they are about to drop you as well. You wouldn’t really consider any of them strong.
The only people who were somewhat happy with that situation were Lady Dimitrescu (who refused to carry you herself, even though it would probably come to her with ease) and Mariola - the only maid who instead of carrying you was wielding your crutches. She tried to entertain you with small talk about "this beautiful castle”, “Lady Dimitrescu’s famous wine” and some gossips about the closest village.
Not only you were never good with the small talk, you couldn’t also tell… why she is talking with you. Something deep down kept telling you Lady Dimitrescu could’ve ordered her to.
You soon started to regret you didn’t just throw yourself down the stairs as your ‘trip’ with Lady Dimitrescu to the room you were supposed to meet her daughters in was far, oh far from pleasant.
The castle hallways turned out to be tricky, easy to lost in and most importantly - long.
Long enough for you to be scolded about "how ungrateful you are” in about nine different ways, each of them including Lady Dimitrescu’s eye rolling, whining and sulking.
Suddenly talking with Mariola about today’s weather started sounding like such a pleasant thing to do.
If the god you tried praying to is real, then they are really caring for you. They cared for you enough to end your suffering before you thought about how easy it is to hit an aristocrat with a crutch.
The two of you arrived in a library.
You are sitting on a comfortable sofa - one of many very suitable for hour-long reading sessions pieces of furniture. Lady Dimitrescu lights up another cigarette as you two wait for her daughters to arrive.
Considering who their mother is, you expect to see three little spoiled rotten girls, dressed in pretty little lady-like dresses.
Talking with the rich is hard, but you’re a Kurst - you’ll get the information out of these brats no matter what it takes.
― Good morning, girls.
― Mother, ― a voice that WITHOUT A DOUBT DOES NOT BELONG TO A CHILD responds softly. ― Sorry for the wait. Getting these two to cooperate is harder than one might think.
You turn your head in the direction where Lady Dimitrescu is looking. You gulp, knowing already that this conversation will not go according to your plan. You open your eyes and the first thing they are drawn to are-
their eyes. Their golden eyes. Similiar to their mother’s… but different.
― So it was… you… ― you mutter out, loud enough to bring Lady Dimitrescu’s attention which is most certainly not helping you right now. ― One of you… One… One of…
You feel each of their glance at you.
One pair of eyes looks at you with pure neutrality.
The second emits… unfounded hostility.
And the last…? Completely devours you. Every bit of you. Drains it’s way to your soul.
You catch your throat, feeling how your heart races and your breath gets rapid.
These are the eyes you recognize.
The eyes of a woman you met last night.