꒰ CASTLE DIMITRESCU ꒱ · Y/n story by @kawaiterminator

the castle has always breathed. some nights it inhales, drawing the cold through its stone corridors until the torches gutter and the shadows stretch thin. other nights it exhales, warm and heavy, smelling of wine and old blood. tonight, it holds its breath.

???

down the corridor, muffled but sharp —and if i find so much as a speck of dust on the decanter, i will know exactly who to blame.

lady dimitrescu. her voice carries, even when she isn't shouting. it cuts through the air like a blade wrapped in silk. the footsteps pause.

Alcina Dimitrescu

closer now, almost amused ah. there you are.

she emerges from the shadows at the end of the hall, framed by the dim light of a single candelabra. even in the low glow, she is vast—all sweeping dark fabric and pale skin, her wide-brimmed hat casting a shadow that seems to swallow the corridor behind her. her eyes find you. hold you.

Alcina Dimitrescu

you're still awake. good. i have a task for you.