Gheata pt 1

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**Transylvania, 1450**

The sun hung low in the sky, casting a golden hue over the Carpathian Mountains as Tamas and his two daughters, Gheata and Justina, approached the imposing gates of Castle Poenari. The fortress, perched high on a rocky precipice, loomed above them, its stone walls bearing witness to countless tales of valor and bloodshed.

Tamas, a sturdy middle-aged man with lines of hardship etched into his face, took a deep breath and straightened his back. Beside him, Gheata, sixteen, clutched the hem of her simple dress, her eyes wide with a mix of fear and excitement. Justina, seventeen, walked with a quiet grace, her expression calm and resolute. Both girls had been summoned to serve in the castle of the royal Romanian family, a duty and an honor that would change their lives forever.

Their eldest sister, Victorine, had remained behind to care for their ailing mother, Reka. Tamas knew this meeting was critical; it could secure his family's future in these turbulent times.

As they reached the entrance, two guards in ornate armor stepped aside, allowing them passage into the grand hall. The interior was dimly lit by torches, their flickering flames casting dancing shadows on the stone walls adorned with tapestries depicting historic battles.

At the far end of the hall, on a raised dais, sat Vlad II Dracul, known as Gladis the Elder, a man of formidable presence. His dark eyes, sharp and penetrating, surveyed the newcomers with an intensity that made Tamas's heart pound. Beside him stood his son, Prince Vlad III, a young man with a commanding aura, his expression inscrutable.

Tamas bowed deeply, and his daughters followed suit. "Your Highnesses," Tamas began, his voice steady despite the tension in the air, "I am Tamas of the village below. I bring my daughters, Gheata and Justina, to serve your household, as you have requested."

Vlad II Dracul nodded, his gaze shifting to the girls. "Step forward," he commanded, his voice deep and authoritative.

Gheata and Justina exchanged a brief glance before stepping forward, their movements synchronized and respectful.

"Your names?" Vlad II inquired, though he already knew them.

"Gheata, sire," the younger girl answered, her voice trembling slightly.

"Justina, your Highness," the elder responded, her tone more assured.

Prince Vlad III, who had been silently observing, finally spoke, his voice smooth and measured. "You have come to serve in a time of great need. Our lands are beset by enemies, and loyalty is a precious commodity. Do you understand the gravity of your duty?"

"Yes, Your Highness," Justina replied firmly, her eyes meeting his without wavering.Gheata nodded vigorously. "We will serve faithfully, sire."

Vlad III's lips curled into a faint smile, though it did not reach his eyes. "We shall see. Your father has spoken highly of your skills and dedication. The castle demands both strength and subtlety."Gladis the Elder leaned forward, his gaze softening just a fraction as he addressed Tamas. "Your daughters will be well cared for, and they will learn much here. You have our word."

Tamas bowed again, his heart swelling with pride and relief. "Thank you, Your Highnesses. They will not disappoint you."

Vlad II dismissed them with a wave of his hand, and a servant appeared to escort Gheata and Justina to their quarters.

As they followed the servant, Gheata glanced back at her father, a mixture of anxiety and excitement in her eyes. Tamas gave her a reassuring nod, knowing this was the beginning of a new chapter for their family.

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