A young, misplaced traveler finds
herself stumbling upon the Castle
Dimitrescu. The mistress of the castle
is kind enough to offer her shelter,
but what is she getting herself into?
And what will unfold with the
mistress of the castle and the...
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You awoke to the feeling of warmth engulfing you. Thick duvets wrapped over your torso and folded just below your neck to keep them from rising over your face. You gaze around, blinking away the sleepiness from your eyes, trying to piece together your whereabouts. It all becomes much clearer when you take notice to the presence next to you.
You must have fallen asleep in her bed. And she must have taken pity on you and let you rest in peace.
"Good morning, pet." She greets you, peering down at you from the book she's skimming through, crossing something off every few seconds with a feather quill.
You scoot your way up, coming to a sitting position next to her, keeping the blanket tucked over your legs. "I'm sorry if I disturbed your sleep, I guess I fell asleep listening to you talk." Your apology earns a small hum from her.
"Bored, were you?"
"No, no!" You shake your head dismissively, "your voice is very soothing, I guess it helped me get tosleep after that nightmare."
She chuckles in amusement and your frantic need to explain and pets your hair. The action is, strangely, sweet to you. You find yourself wishing she'd do it once more. Alcina hands her notebook down to you, dropping the quill inside the page. "You did not disturb me, not in the slightest. I rather enjoyed the additional presence, surprisingly." She sighs in contentment. "Write for me, won't you?"
You accept her offer, getting comfortable in your sitting position with the book on your lap.
"Write exactly as I say," she tells you, giving you an encouraging little smile. "Donna, I write to extend an invitation to Castle Dimitrescu," a pause, watching you write out the words before continuing, "I am in need of a new measurement for my dressings..."
As she speaks, you continue drafting her letter out for her, quickly and quietly, only asking her to pause when you need a spelling confirmation on the last name. Alcina takes note of the curve and loop of your handwriting, humming to herself as she does, and pats your hair gently. "That's good, pet. Now all I have to do is rewrite it in my own handwriting and send it off through the Duke."
"The Duke?" You ponder, unaware of a person with such a name.
Alcina smiles. "A traveling merchant of sorts in the village, he acquires rare finds and will handle business negotiations, for a price."
You nod, pretty fascinated with the idea of a merchant that traveled wherever he wanted around the village. "And your sister, Donna? What's she like?"
"She's very quiet, she makes fine needlework," Alcina pauses, a look of disgust on her face at her next words, "I much prefer her to that loud mouth of a companion of hers."
You giggle. Alcina's lips curve at the sound.
"We are sisters through Mother Miranda, you see. There is myself, Donna, Salvatore Moreau and, unfortunately, Karl Heisenberg."