#after she yeeted that vanity I had to write about her or i'd go mad

[sylverstorms]

Lady Dimitrescu x Maiden ----Chivalry

It is late.

It is late, dammit! you repeat to yourself as you struggle to run through the healthy inches of white frost that cover the roads. The sky is grey, a clear indication it will snow again, but that is precisely what caused you to lose track of time so badly. And in this particular village, it is rumored staying out after sunfall is a fatal mistake.

Normally, you are not one to believe in such superstitions.

But nothing in this place you chose to call home is normal.

Though, to be fair to yourself, it isn’t much of a choice if it’s the only option left. Your family’s debts threatened to choke the life out of you after you lost your father –and you had to escape to the distant village of his birth. The same one he adamantly refused to talk about every time you asked, since childhood. Now you see why. You definitely see why.

The winter is ice cold. The summer –well, from what you’ve heard, that doesn’t really exist. Peerless, thick forests separate you completely from the outside world. The villagers range from highly superstitious to downright batshit crazy, which you guess –and hope— is from the isolation. That and the ‘incidents’. You choose to call them that so you don’t think of corpses and lose sleep at night.

The truth is… there are quite a lot of disappearances. An unsettling amount, if you’re honest. Still, there is a logical explanation besides the ‘werewolves and vampires and blood-witches’ nonsense you keep hearing about.

It baffles you why the villagers refuse to accept that it’s just the wolves. You’re surrounded by woods, for God’s sake and you hear them howling above the wind almost every night. They literally keep you awake sometimes. At the end of the day, though, they are just animals. Not supernatural monsters. Just good ol’ mother nature at her most brutal.

And in the off chance it isn’t, you don’t want to stay out long enough to find out.

Your steps hasten. It is a great relief when the sign of the shop near your house comes into view. Yes, almost made it! You cannot wait to have some warm soup and then curl into a ball underneath your heavy blankets.

Just as you are about to take the turn home, however, something catches your eye. Someone. Their presence is so jarring it makes you literally freeze in place and stare.

A woman you’ve never seen before –you’d know if you had, nothing about her is forgettable— ducks out of the store. Yes, she ducks, because she’s so incredibly tall there is no other way for her to fit through. Her height isn’t even the most stunning thing about her. Actually, you can’t decide what is.

It may be her spotless white dress and the way it hugs her luscious curves just right. It may be the wide-brimmed hat she wears, or the pearls that glimmer at her neck and ears, screaming of wealth. It may be her perfectly styled waves of dark hair and how stark they stand against the paleness of her skin. Or perhaps the ancient Greek, goddess-like beauty that is her profile.

You stand there breathless as she turns the other way, having spared you not a single glance. And why would she, when you’re a commoner and she looks like she has and is everything?

What is a woman like that doing here?  

She belongs in a palace guarded by knights, is your first thought. Then it clicks. She does, in fact, live in a palace. She must be the lady you hear the whole village whispering about, the one who owns the castle at the top of the mountain.

That… is such a hike from the village. How did she manage that in a dress and heels? And… wait. How isn’t she freezing to death? Even past your two layers of coats, you are shaking. The frost is biting. It’s biting hard.

You want to ask her if she’ll be alright on her own, but the first lesson you learned in the village is to mind your own business. People do not react well to kindness here.

So you make to follow your own path— only to halt again when a tiny shooting star of a shine slips down her back and falls into the snow. The lady doesn’t seem to notice. Curiosity killed the cat, they say, yet you walk forward to take a closer look.

An earring that looks more expensive than your entire wardrobe –and probably is— lies on the cold ground, lost and alone. You must be an idiot because it doesn’t even occur to you to sell it for a month’s worth of any meal you desire, until much, much later.

“Um— my lady!” you call out, before you can think twice about it. You don’t remember her name. What is the castle called? Oh, come on… Dimitrescu or something?

Thankfully, she stops and you don’t have to embarrass yourself further. When she turns, a cold breeze carries a wondrous, expensive perfume to your nostrils. Sandalwood, Chantilly musk. You are pinned in place by a pair of amber eyes that seem to positively glow from within. She’s terribly intimidating, even while she looks more amused than bothered by your delay.

You try not to stammer or stumble. “S-sorry to stall you. Your earring fell off.” you say over the pounding of your heart and the merciless chill. Your fingers are numb when you present the object to her like a tribute.

A gloved hand reaches up to her ear, slow, as if she’s in no hurry at all. “Ah.” she breathes. She even sounds as good as she looks. “How nice of you to return it, dear.”

That ‘dear’ shouldn’t make your mind glitch like a faulty machine so easily. You lament the fact your palm is so cold you can’t even feel the whisper of her glove against it as she takes her earring back. You stand so frozen underneath her towering height, her classy smell and studying, golden gaze for a moment you have all but forgotten the time.

A distant howl is quick to remind you.

Oh no!

Your instincts give an instant flight reaction, you want to make a dash for your house, but your blue eyes meet hers once more. The stunning lady either has a mean poker face or the sound doesn’t faze her at all. She seems to disregard it as blatantly as the cold.

“That— that’s not good.” So much for not stammering in front of the beautiful woman.

“Better hurry indoors, now.” she says it lightly, as if there’s an underlying joke in there somewhere. “Who knows what scary monsters a pretty dear like you may attract.”

A pretty— your brain shuts down and reboots on the spot. If the urge to run to safety wasn’t swelling so fast you’d have trouble speaking at all, after that. It is a small mercy your blood is too frozen in your veins to make your cheeks redden.

“But you… you’re not going back to your castle alone, right?” you ask. Surely, she’s not that crazy to trudge through the damn woods at this time. “S-shall I escort you to safety?”

The Lady blinks.

Then, she throws her head back in a brief, hearty laugh that tickles your ears in the best way.

“And they say chivalry is dead!” her voice sounds like whiskey. “You are too good for this village, darling, you really are.” as she says it, the very tip of her glove brushes over your cheek. A touch ghostly; quick to fade, though not from your skin. “Don’t you worry about me. Get indoors.” The last part sounds like an order.

You don’t have to be told twice.

You’re hesitant –why are you so worried about her?— but you step back with a nod. “Stay safe.” you say and dash towards your home without looking over your shoulder again.

The breath you’ve been keeping leaves you only after you’re safely inside with the doors and windows locked. The howling is getting closer. Louder. You can’t stop thinking about the woman –Lady Dimitrescu?— and hoping she sees the sunrise safe and sound.

Weirdly enough, nothing pads or scratches or makes noise around your house that night.

You fall into a deep sleep, dreaming of golden eyes and lips crimson like blood.

Ko-Fi