Lady Dimitrescu x female reader

20 - The gifts

In the days that followed, after completing my daily duties around the castle, I would retreat to my quarters with a sense of quiet anticipation. With Angie's dress complete, I turned my attention to another gift—one that would surely bring delight to Donna. She had always cherished her dolls, I knew that creating a new doll for her, especially one made by hand, would be a gift she would enjoy. 

I faced my next challenge: learning how to make a doll. I had never seen fingers work wonders with a needle and thread, so when it came time for me to try, I found it hard. My first attempts were clumsy, the stitches uneven and the fabric puckered. Frustration welled up inside me, and there were times when I wanted to give up. But I was stubborn and kept trying, to keep practicing until I could sew as skilfully as Donna did. My persistence began to pay off. 

Slowly but surely, my stitches became more even, and my hands grew steadier. I learned how to shape the fabric, how to stuff it just right so that the doll would be soft yet sturdy. Each evening, I worked meticulously on the doll, starting with the soft fabric for its body, carefully sewing each seam with precision. I chose the finest materials I got from the duke, knowing how much Donna adored her dolls being as lifelike as possible. I wanted the face to reflect the kindness and warmth. 

But how could I capture such emotions with just a needle and thread? I spent days sketching faces, trying to find the right expression. I experimented with different shapes for the eyes, the curve of the mouth, the placement of the nose. Each attempt brought me closer to the image I had in my mind. I eventually fashioned the doll's face with gentle features, embroidering delicate eyes that sparkled with the hint of a smile, and adding rosy cheeks with a touch of colour. 

The hair, made from strands of the softest yarn, was sewn in with care, each lock placed to mimic the curls that Donna so loved. As the doll began to take shape, I found myself adding little details that I knew would make it special—a tiny dress sewn from scraps of fabric, a small ribbon tied around its waist, and even a miniature pair of shoes that I fashioned from leftover leather. With each stitch and every little addition, I imagined Donna's joy when she would unwrap this gift on Christmas morning. 

The work was slow and required patience, but it was rewarding. The quiet of the castle at night, with only the soft flicker of a candle to keep me company, provided the perfect backdrop for this labour of love. As the days passed and the doll neared completion, I felt a growing sense of accomplishment. The long hours spent stitching and crafting were worth every moment, knowing that soon Donna would hold this doll in her hands, a small token of the affection I had for her. 

When I was done, I held the doll up and examined it from every angle. I had created it with my own hands, with patience, and a determination that had seen me through many frustrations. As I held the finished doll in my hands, I felt a deep sense of accomplishment. I placed the doll under my floorboard with the other gifts.

With the dress for Angie and the doll for Donna completed and safely hidden away, I turned my attention to the most challenging gift on my list: a mechanical horse statue for Lord Heisenberg. Known for his fascination with engineering and all things mechanical, Lord Heisenberg was a man who appreciated craftsmanship and intricate designs. I knew that creating something worthy of his interest would require not only skill but also time and patience. 

This project would be unlike anything I had attempted before—a delicate balance between art and engineering. I had spent a week gathering the necessary materials, including small gears, springs, and finely wrought metal pieces, each chosen with care to ensure they would come together to form something beautiful. I had learned metalworking from the books in the library and from Heisenberg, who had taught me the basics. 

Every evening, after completing my duties, I would retreat to my workshop. The table was littered with tiny tools, and the flickering candlelight cast long shadows over the intricate parts laid out before me. The process was slow and painstaking, each piece needing to be precisely cut, shaped, and fitted together. The internal mechanisms required the utmost care, as one misaligned gear could cause the entire statue to fail.