Chapter Text
Y/n,
It’s a pleasure to have heard back from you. As I am sure you are aware, your mother has recently resigned her position as the artisan and restoration worker. As much as I did enjoy her company, she provided as much assistance as she did words of wisdom to myself and my daughters. I am hoping that, if you are willing- you will fill the role your mother has left behind. Of course, we are always in need of a stable hand to tend to our horses, and if you prefer, we are also in need of a seamstress- though you will most likely be assigned to myself in the event you choose that position.
I look forward to meeting you to discuss more in depth. Enclosed in this letter is an address and a number to call should you have any further questions.
Regards,
Lady Dimitrescu
~
You had no idea where your mother was. Where she had gone, what she had done in her final weeks leading up to her disappearance. Sure, she had been an allusive woman- but she told you her whereabouts even in the event that she had to leave for a work trip. You hadn’t really had any interest in your mother’s work. What she actually did when she was gone for months, you didn’t quite know. In fact, now that you reflected on the situation you found to be unfolding now… you realized that you knew very little about your mother in a professional sense. You were always taught to not question or judge, yes. But you had also been told to never pry or prod at something you didn’t need to know.
As you would come to discover, not everything your mother taught you would stick.
“Lady Dimitrescu… ” You murmured to yourself, sounding it out a handful of times in different ways. Rolling the R, putting on an over the top accent- It felt nice to say, like a little song in its own right. From what your mother had told you, the Lady was a Countess. The heir to a very wealthy sum of money, and a very generous plot of land. Aside from that, you remember your mother recalling her times within the walls of the castle. You envisioned it to be a magnificent thing. A true display of the power that architectural masterpieces held. Your mother had mentioned the Lady’s mannerisms and general attitude in a letter in which she stated, ”As for your questions about the Lady— She is difficult to explain. It is as if a giant beast, capable of ripping worlds apart should it so desire— was placed within the confines of a small village, and so it tries to be normal. To live normally, even when it knows it cannot. What makes her abnormal, to me, is her calmness. I don’t mean to make it sound bad, my dear- for it is something I can never be grateful enough for. But it just seems so out of place for someone like her. You would expect such a lady to be agitated often- if not all of the time. But I have never seen her so much as scowl. Like the rolling hills of fog, she obscures everything around her, while still making her presence so very well known. To say I am afraid of her would be inaccurate. But know that I am safe… ”
Although you had always been weary of mysterious letters from women who seemed to have suspicious plots of land in the middle of Romania for absolutely no other reason than "because I can"- You knew that the only reason she was calling upon you was because her only source of help had run dry. Your mother must've left some review if this woman thought you'd survive a day in the middle of nowhere. Much less in the Romanian winter. Granted- it was fall- but the idea still made you recoil. Sure, you lived in Juneau, Alaska. Sure it was cold as all hell most months. But Romania?
You remember spitting out your tea and cackling like a mad-woman when your mother had mentioned the idea. "You?" You had said,"In the Romanian snow? HAHA! You'd die out there." You were more than a little upset that you had been right. In whatever fucked up way, the world had granted you the rights to your I told you so card. You didn't think it was worth it.
Now that the letter had been opened, and you had some time to think- you figured waiting another week for a letter would piss you off, especially if the situation was dire. You didn't want to keep your boss-to-be waiting. So you would pack up your bags and head out that very night. By plane, or train, or whatever you could afford. You had a couple hundred bucks in your pocket, the clothes on your back, some keepsakes, and a guitar. What could go wrong?