The sterile scent of high-end Romanian spa products lingered on Audrey even as she stepped out of the massage room, the lingering warmth of the deep tissue massage a stark contrast to the crisp autumn air that nipped at her skin. The lobby of the opulent hotel they stayed at, thrummed with the usual symphony of wealth: hushed business deals conducted over cognac, the tinkling laughter of women in designer gowns sipping champagne, and the low murmur of concierge conversations in clipped European accents.
It had been nearly a month since Audrey fell sick. Jon had invited her to Romania for another business trip and just like with Paris, was helping herself to the hotel’s spa. As sounds and chatter of the room continued, Audrey barely registered it all. Her mind was fixated on something else entirely—a colorful display of art on posted just outside the hotel walls, depicting an advertisement for a renown circus troupe.
She’d mentioned the circus earlier to Jon, a fleeting thought tossed into the conversation of their otherwise busy schedule. But seeing the weathered poster plastered on a storefront near the hotel, depicting a woman in a glittering, scarlet spandex suit defying gravity on a trapeze, ignited something within her. It wasn't just the spectacle; it was the raw, defiant energy that pulsed from the image, the rejection of the mundane, the scream against the suffocating expectations of her world.
The spandex suit beckoned for Audrey like a siren call. A single, unbroken piece of scarlet and gold. Audrey knew, with a startling certainty, that she had to have it. It wasn't simply a costume; it was a statement, a silent rebellion against the gilded cage she occasionally felt trapped in. Later that evening, Jon, freshly off a conference call, entered their suite to find Audrey bathed in the warm glow of the lamplight, newly dressed. The scarlet and gold spandex clung to her lithe frame, accentuating every curve. Her usually impeccable hair was pulled back in a messy braid, strands escaping to frame her face, which was alight with a mischievous gleam.
“I want to go to the bloody circus,” she declared, the words laced with an exhilaration that Jon rarely witnessed.
He raised an eyebrow, ever the pragmatist. “Tomorrow, we have the Bigar Waterfall excursion. You know… breathtaking natural wonder, perfect for…”
“The circus,” she cut him off, a playful challenge in her voice. “I want to go to the circus.”
He sighed, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. He knew arguing was futile. “Fine, but no impromptu trapeze attempts, alright?”
Jon’s gaze lingered on Audrey for a moment. A few weeks back, when Audrey was recovering from her illness, both he and Luca had tried to find information on Audrey, anything to learn more about her, but were startled to find nothing. Her name wasn’t on any background checks and it wasn’t linked to social media. They both found it strange, as the research implied as though ‘Audrey’ wasn’t a real person. They both wondered if she had changed identities at some point, but without asking her directly, there wasn’t any way to know.
Jon had intended to bring the question up several times, but with his busy schedule, the right moment never came and he didn’t want to risk souring the mood by bringing it up during a trip.
He left to procure popcorn and cotton candy from the concession stand, the sugary scent a sweet counterpoint to the earthy aroma of sawdust that already permeated the air. He scanned the bustling crowd, searching for Audrey amongst the throngs of families and thrill-seekers, but she was gone. The circus began – a riot of music, laughter, gasps of astonishment, and the pungent smell of popcorn mingling with sweat and animal musk. Then, halfway through the trapeze performance, Jon's breath hitched in his throat. Suspended high above the sawdust ring was Audrey, clad in the exact same crimson and gold spandex as the professional acrobat. She swung effortlessly, defying gravity with every arc, her movements a mesmerizing blend of strength and grace. It was impossible, ludicrous, yet undeniably her.
Jon watched, transfixed, as she executed daring flips and twists, the crowd roaring with each breathtaking maneuver. With a final, powerful leap, she dismounted the trapeze, gracefully landing on the sawdust below, her expression a mixture of exhilaration and amusement as she walked towards him, a swagger in her step, the scent of sawdust and popcorn clinging to her like a tangible memory of her daring feat.
“Where the hell…how…?” Jon stammered, gesturing helplessly at the empty trapeze high above.
Audrey settled beside him, a knowing smile playing on her lips. “Back home, I have a swing, just not quite as high,” she said casually, “Good exercise, you know. Keeps you sharp.”
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Jon shook his head, a mixture of awe and incredulity etched on his face. “You’re crazy,” he admitted, the words laced with reluctant admiration, “absolutely crazy.” A genuine smile, one that reached his eyes, finally broke through. He couldn't help but be drawn to her fearless spirit, the way she shattered expectations and soared to heights others deemed unimaginable, even for a fleeting night at the circus.
Back on the flight, the drone of the engines a muted counterpoint to the receding Romanian landscape, Audrey turned her gaze to the tapestry of clouds outside the window. Their conversation drifted to weightier matters, her ambitions for her ancestral lands, her vision for the future.
“If I were to rule,” she said thoughtfully, her voice low and contemplative, “it wouldn’t be with a tyrant’s hand. But naivety has no place in leadership. Fairness, yes, absolutely. But with an iron fist when needed. My people crave stability, security. They need to understand progress demands sacrifices, that hard choices must be made, sometimes brutal ones.”
Jon listened intently, seeing in her not just an heiress, but a leader forged in the fires of both lineage and experience. A leader who, much like the trapeze artist she’d momentarily become, wasn’t afraid to defy expectations and grasp for heights others considered inaccessible.
Jon scratched his head, the plush hotel armchair offering little comfort to his mounting bewilderment. He wasn’t sure how the conversation came to this point, but he found it as an opportunity to finally get some answers. "You have land…you may or may not rule…are you some kind of princess or something?" he ventured, the question tumbling out in a mix of amusement and genuine confusion.
Audrey let out a wry laugh, the sound a melodic counterpoint to the muted hum of the airplane's engines. “Hm, no, I mean, if I were a princess, would I be here with you? Shouldn’t I be attending royal galas, signing decrees, not… well, this?” she gestured vaguely at the airplane cabin, a wry smile playing on her lips. Though she was a princess back in her land, she wasn’t one here.
“So what do you mean?” Jon pressed, leaning forward, trying to decipher the intricate puzzle of her words. “Just where I come from, things are…different. It's not like swanning about Europe on business trips. I oversee a lot of land, and it requires a firm hand. Strictness, you understand? To keep things running smoothly.” Audrey’s voice took on a distant tone, as if she were peering into a landscape both familiar and achingly far away. “This shouldn’t have happened,” she added, her gaze dropping to her hands clasped in her lap. “Me being stuck here, with no way back.”
Jon frowned, the pieces refusing to click into place. Who, or what, was holding her back? A wall of unspoken secrets seemed to rise between them, a tangible barrier woven from unspoken obligations and veiled threats. He wanted to pry, to unravel the tangled threads of her past, but something held him back. A primal instinct, perhaps, whispering that some doors were best left unopened.
“So you don’t want to be here,” he said finally, choosing a carefully neutral path. “You’d rather be back home?” The words hung in the air, laden with unspoken questions.
Audrey’s eyes met his, a flicker of amusement dancing in their depths. “No, no, silly. I love traveling with you—these trips are a breath of fresh air. But I can’t go back home. At least not yet. And while I’m here, I may as well build up a big story to tell for when I do go back home. Something amazing, something that’ll make everyone want to experience even a piece of what I did. And these trips we go on, makes for a perfect material to work with.”
Jon found her reasoning peculiar, even fantastical, but he chose to accept it at face value. He’d make her story so extraordinary, so unforgettable, that the pull of whatever awaited her back home would be insignificant compared to the life they were building together. He would weave a tapestry of adventure, passion, and shared experiences, one so vibrant it would anchor her to him, to this moment, forever.
Later that night, as the city lights of Bucharest blurred into a constellation of distant jewels below, Jon made a call. Luca, his ever-resourceful friend and employee, answered on the first ring. “I’ve got some information about Audrey, she may be a princess or hold some sort of authoritative power somewhere. Find out what you can.” he commanded, his voice low and urgent. “Her origins, her landholdings, the nature of her responsibilities…anything.”
Luca, ever the pragmatist, processed the request with a detached efficiency. “She’s not a princess, boss. If she were, with that kind of wealth, she’d have no issue getting back home and would have probably even had body guards with her.” He paused, his voice thoughtful. “Though, you’re in Romania, right?” He mused, thinking back to Audrey’s book, the one that seemed to give off witchcraft vibes. “She does own some kind of witchcraft book. And she seemed pretty excited about heading off to Romania. Maybe there’s some sort of connection there? I’ll see what I can find. And anyway, I guess it won’t hurt to look up the princess thing too. Though I doubt I’ll find anything there.”
Jon nodded, even though Luca couldn’t see him. “You do that.” He responded before hanging up. He felt a knot of unease tightening in his gut. Romania, with its ancient forests and whispers of folklore, was known for its powerful, enigmatic witches. But Audrey wasn't that. Something else was at play here, something older, more profound. Where could she possibly be from, a place that demanded such strict adherence to an unwritten code, a place that he felt held her captive despite her evident yearning for freedom? The answer, he knew, lay hidden in the intricate tapestry of her past, a past she was only slowly, reluctantly, revealing. And he was determined to unravel it, thread by enigmatic thread.