Oh, To Be The Lady's - [A Lady Dimitrescu/Female Reader-Insert Story]

Chapter Twelve: To Be Entertained

A/N: This chapter is dedicated to the lovely RSE on Archive of Our Own, who had a rough day ahead of them today and requested a chapter about the girls putting on a show with their Mother and Aunt Donna for you and Mother Miranda! 😅 I hope you enjoy this hon and thank you so much for the prompt and for being my friend, I always love talking to you, you're amazing! 💖🥰

I hope everyone else enjoys this slightly-crackish chapter and like always, please don't hesitate to tell me what you think! I love you all! 💙💜💙💜

Also, just a disclaimer but I've never written any of the other Lords before, so I'm sorry if they're OOC at all!

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"Wait, wait--" You pause in the middle of the hallway, your wife's hand slipping from around your waist as she stops as well, glancing down at you under the brim of her hat. "You're going to do what ?"

"A performance, darling." Alcina says, as though that could even begin to clarify anything. When you continue to stare up at her, your eyes wide, she sighs, resting her warm hand against the small of your back and continues forward, pushing you gently along. "It's become a sort of - family tradition, if you will."

You frown in confusion but allow your Lady to finish leading you to the mansion's opera hall, the both of you stepping into the large space. Immediately, your eyes are drawn to the large stage at the other end, where you can just make out your three daughters shuffling across.

"They're here!" You hear Bela say, the excitement in her voice causing you to smile despite your rising confusion. "Shh, shh, we need to get ready. . ."

Across the hall, you spot both Heisenberg and Mother Miranda seated in two of the many scattered chairs. Heisenberg is scowling, brows furrowed above his signature dark shades. He does, however, return your wave with a slight nod and you smile even wider. Miranda isn't much better, but her face softens when she finally catches sight of you.

"Go catch up with the family, beloved." Alcina says, finally stepping away from you, toward the stage. You reach out to her on instinct, and she ducks down, bringing your knuckles against her lips in a sweet kiss. You sigh. "Showtime should be any minute."

Despite not knowing what that means, you nod. Alcina presses one last kiss against your hand before she's gone, crossing behind the velvet curtains behind the stage. Swallowing, you carefully scoot past a few small tables, finally coming to a stop beside your grumbling brother-in-law.

"Karl." You greet, taking a seat into the chair to his left. "How are you?"

"Hmm." He grunts, shifting in his own chair. He looks like he would rather be anywhere but there. However, you know him well enough now that you can tell that he's not really that annoyed, not truly. "Gonna be a long ass night, corkscrew. Better get comfy."

You grin at the nickname, leaning back. "So, uh, what's this about, anyways?"

"Some type of --" At this, the large man grimaces, as though the very word tastes horrid. "-- theatre act the kids like to put on. I'm just here for the free, fancy drinks afterwards."

"Oh," Turning toward your sort-of mother-in-law, you squint up at her through the dim showroom lights. "And you, Mother Miranda? How are you?"

"Doing well, child." Is all the taller woman says, briefly glancing at you before her dark gaze once again rests against the stage.

With a silent sigh, you resign yourself to your confusion, realizing quickly that you're most likely not going to get anything else out of your irritated family members. Tapping a rhymeless tune against the arm of your chair, you take a second to look around the gigantic theatre hall.