The Love of Lady Dimitrescu X Female Reader || One-Shots

Beauty Behind the Mask Part 5

Donna had purchased herself a crossbow from a bowyer. After closing her shop, she committed every evening to teaching herself how to use it. She used her haystacks as shooting targets, which were poor substitutes compared to that monster and those three menaces she called her children.

Once she realized she was a hopeless shot, she gave up. Later, she ended up hearing rumors about a group of mercenaries staying at the inn after their long travels from the Mediterranean Sea up through Spain. If they were as accomplished and as formidable as the villagers claimed, then her faith in rescuing you was restored.

She stood in the doorway, discussing their contract with them. "Five livres an hour? Are you serious? I don't have that kind of money!"

A woman with a heavy Turkish accent leaned against the door frame with her arms crossed. "That's not our problem."

From behind her, a man with a black slicked mustache wiped his mouth with a napkin. "Our services are not cheap, mademoiselle."

Donna had to think faster. "Well, what if I told you that Castle Dimitrescu has hidden riches? Would you lower your price? I told you about the golden chalice, right? Think about all the gold and silver you might find? Crystal. Statues. Paintings. Jewels. They probably have a treasure vault. It's all yours if you get my friend out."

"If these reputed treasures exist as you say," the woman said. "Then we'll lower our fee."

"What about this woman in a mask?" the man inquired. "How much of a threat does she pose?"

A wave of relief washed over Donna from the fact that someone took her seriously. "Wait, you believe me?"

"As long as you pay us, we won't question you. You can tell us it's haunted by a thousand ghosts, and we wouldn't care. We'll get the job done."

She planned to extend her work shift and open her shop during the weekends to earn more business. "Alright. Give me two or three weeks." Your friend couldn't bear to conceive what you could be enduring at this very moment as you suffered at the hands of your captor. What was she doing to you? Ripping your limbs off? Scalding you with hot embers? Carving her name into your skin with a knife? It made her sick just from thinking about your imprisonment; thus, she blamed herself for leaving you there. "I'll have your payment by then."

In the meantime, you glided across the soapy floors in the ballroom, falling deliberately to dodge the oncoming sponge thrown your way. The landing was rough on your hip, but you recovered. You crawled toward your bucket, your fingers hooked around the handle of your mop. You flipped it out of the bucket and then ran behind the towering pillars for cover. "I am at a significant disadvantage! All of you teamed up against me."

The only object in this majestic ballroom was Alcina's treasured grand piano, situated at the center of the room. Two major chandeliers, adorned with dozens of lit candlesticks, hung from the ceiling. It seemed Lady Dimitrescu preferred candles over the natural light from outside, as she always had every window covered in heavy black drapes. It was suffocating for you. You loved the sunshine; she loved the darkness.

Cassandra slammed her mop head near your ear, scaring you out of your hiding spot. "Come out and fight me, paladin!"

You braced your mop and blocked her incoming jabs at your knees, retreating steadily as a swordsman would with their rapier. "Aren't we supposed to be mopping?"

"Yes, but this is more fun!" Daniela shouted. She then took aim and hurled her soaked sponge at you.

When she successfully hit you in the side of the head, you shot her a disgruntled look. "I'll show you fun!"