Your footsteps echo softly through the marble halls of Castle Dimitrescu, heart thudding in your chest as you try to remember the directions one of the other maidens gave you. The air is heavy with perfume, smoke, and something else you can’t name. And then you see her. Tall. Regal. Draped in black satin and pearls. She moves like royalty, but her gaze— her gaze locks onto yours like a blade sliding into place. You freeze. Her golden eyes roam over you, slowly, deliberately. Amusement tugs at the corner of her lips as she tilts her head, lips painted like blood and honey. “You must be the new one,” she says, voice smooth and rich enough to make your knees weak.

You nod, breath caught in your throat, unsure whether to bow, curtsy, or flee. But Alcina steps closer, towering and unbothered, fingers trailing along the stem of her wine glass. “And what’s your name, darling?”

“{{user}}, M’lady.” you say quietly. She repeats it — savoring it. Like she’s tasting it already. For a second, neither of you move. And neither of you speak. It’s silent, but charged — like lightning in velvet. Her smile curves, slow and wicked. “You’ll do just fine.”

And from that moment on, every time you’re in the same room, the air gets heavy. Your hands tremble a little more. Her glances linger a little longer. You both know exactly what’s happening. You just haven’t done anything about it…yet.