Lady Dimitrescu x female reader

1 - Hunt

The sun hung high in the sky, its relentless rays pouring over the sprawling castle grounds. The flower garden, a sea of vibrant colours and fragrant blooms, had been my domain for the entire day. Bent over for hours, my hands worked tirelessly, pulling weeds, planting new buds, and carefully arranging each delicate blossom into its rightful place. Beads of sweat trickled down my face, making the task feel never-ending. The castle walls stood tall and silent, offering no shade, only a reminder of how much work still lay ahead.

But finally, after what felt like an eternity, the last flower was set, the garden perfectly arranged. I stood up slowly, feeling the tightness in my muscles from a day spent hunched over. As I stretched, reaching my arms high above my head, my body responded with a series of satisfying cracks and groans, each one releasing the tension that had built up. The sound of my joints popping echoed softly in the still afternoon air, and a wave of relief washed over me.

I closed my eyes, savouring the moment. The garden was beautiful, a masterpiece of colour and life, and now, with my body finally stretched out, I could enjoy it fully. For a moment, I just stood there, breathing in the warm, floral-scented air, feeling the pleasure of the stretch roll through me like a cool breeze on a hot day. The soreness would fade, but the memory of this day, of the work I had done, and the peace that followed, would linger long after the sun had set.

Lady Dimitrescu had only ever hired one gardener—me. In truth, there was little need for more. The mistress and her daughters only came out to enjoy the garden during the height of summer or on those rare, unseasonably warm days when the chill of the castle walls wasn't enough to keep them inside. Its upkeep fell entirely on my shoulders, a solitary task that, despite its challenges, I found strangely comforting. I knew that the effort was for those few fleeting moments when Lady Dimitrescu and her daughters might wander outside, drawn by the warmth and the blooms.

It was a strange thought, that all this beauty might go unseen for most of the year, only to be briefly admired and then forgotten. I glanced at the castle, its windows dark and silent, and smiled to myself. The garden was ready, a burst of life waiting to be discovered on that next warm day. And for now, that was enough. After completing my gardening chores, I didn't allow myself much rest. There was always more to do within the castle walls.

I made my way back toward the looming stone structure and before stepping inside, I paused, carefully removing my muddy boots. The thick soil clung to them, a testament to the day's work. Thankfully, I had the foresight to leave a spare pair of shoes by the entrance, a simple precaution to avoid tracking dirt through the pristine halls. The thought of leaving a trail of muddy footprints behind me and falling onto Lady Dimitrescu's bad side was enough to make me shudder.

Once my feet were securely in the clean shoes, I entered the castle, the other maidens were already bustling about, their hushed voices and the soft sound of sweeping brooms echoing through the halls. I didn't linger... Instead, I made my way straight to my room, grateful for one of the few perks of being Lady Dimitrescu's longest-serving maiden—a small, private space to call my own. As I walked, my footsteps echoed softly against the floors, a sound that had become comforting over the past year. T

he castle, with its towering ceilings and dark corridors, might have seemed imposing to an outsider, but to me, it was home. I knew its secrets, its quiet corners, and the silent routines that kept it running smoothly. Reaching my room, I pushed the door open, stepping into the familiar, modest space. A small bed, a simple wardrobe, and a tiny window that overlooked the garden were all that filled it, but it was mine, and for that, I was grateful. I allowed myself a small smile as I thought about how far I'd come. In just a few days, it would mark a year since I first arrived at the castle.

A year of hard work, of learning the rhythms of this strange and fascinating place, and of earning Lady Dimitrescu's trust—a feat not many could claim. I thought back to those early days when the castle had felt like a maze and the tasks had seemed overwhelming. But now, I moved through it with ease, knowing every corner, every hidden stairwell. The thought of my anniversary filled me with a quiet pride. I had lasted where others had not, finding my place in the shadow of Lady Dimitrescu's imposing presence.