[color=lightgray][center][img]https://i.imgur.com/YGxzxVR.png[/img] [img]https://i.imgur.com/AVwIuBJ.png[/img][/center] [color=D0B4EC]Time:[/color] Evening [color=D0B4EC]Location:[/color] Castle Dining Hall [color=D0B4EC]Attire:[/color] [url=i.imgur.com/ErZIgzY.jpeg[/url]Dress[/url], [url=i.imgur.com/2SBcciZ.png]Amulet[/url] [color=D0B4EC]Interaction:[/color] [@Apex Sunburn] Sjandehk [@Oso] Cassius [@Samreaper] Kazumin [@JJ Doe] Fritz [@Helo] Callum [/color] [hr] [color=lightgray]Charlotte shifted in her seat, just slightly, enough to adjust the fall of her gown and give her trembling fingers something to do beneath the tablecloth. But as she did, her eyes flicked sideways and paused. Sjan-dehk wasn’t looking at her anymore. His eyes were across the room. It wasn’t hard to follow the line of his gaze. Even if she hadn’t seen Kalliope’s red hair, the way it glimmered beneath the chandelier light like a flame as she and Cassius approached, she would have known. There was a softness in Sjandehk's face now...Conflicted, yes, but soft in a way that struck Charlotte unexpectedly. And even though he wasn’t smiling, not really, there was a familiarity; the kind of familiarity one didn’t usually have with mere acquaintances. Her brows lowered ever so slightly. [color=1E90FF]“So confusing,”[/color] And though his words were quiet, Charlotte heard them. She had been watching him still, even if he hadn’t realized. The words weren’t meant for her, but they struck her all the same. He then coughed, clearly trying to cover whatever had just broken loose inside him. Rather than calling attention to his unease, Charlotte offered him a reassuring smile, choosing instead to listen attentively as he began to respond to her earlier questions. There was something comforting in the cadence of his voice that soothed her frayed nerves far more than anything else had that evening. Amidst the strange sights and whispers haunting her senses, his words felt like an anchor. Meanwhile, his subtle fidgeting did not escape her notice, nor did the effort he made to compose himself, and in that, she found something endearing. Perhaps even familiar. Perhaps, she thought, she had stumbled upon a kindred spirit. [color=D0B4EC]“Exploring somewhere new sounds like a dream to me,”[/color] she mused, tilting her head slightly in thought. After a pause, her voice grew more wistful, [color=D0B4EC]“Does it feel like being the protagonist of an adventure novel? What a wonder it must be to step into a new country, not knowing what awaits. You're embarking on your very own adventure.”[/color] Before she could respond further, their moment quietly unraveled as both of their attentions were pulled elsewhere—Sjan-dehk’s gaze drawn toward Iyen, and Charlotte’s head turning at the unmistakable sound of Count Calbert’s voice cutting through the din of the banquet,[color=4C93C2]“You have just informed a room full of royals and dignitaries that my daughter, Lady Violet Damien, was struck by you... And—how did you phrase it? Ah, yes—‘gentle caress out of passion.’”[/color] Charlotte’s lips parted slightly in surprise as it became clear he was addressing Roman. Roman—Roman of all people—the sweet bear of a man? [i]He had struck her?[/i] She might have dismissed it as a misunderstanding, a twisted rumor, had Violet not gone on to confirm it herself. And not timidly, but with striking boldness. There had to be a misunderstanding. Her brows furrowed gently, and she was just beginning to lean in, ready to follow the conversation further, when Sjan-dehk’s voice gently redirected her focus. [color=1E90FF]“Put your glass down, please.”[/color] Charlotte blinked and turned to meet his gaze, then glanced between him and the untouched wine. After a small pause, she nodded, sliding the glass away with a sheepish little smile. [color=D0B4EC]“Just pretend it was never even invited to the table,”[/color] she teased lightly. [i]Then he touched her neck. [/i] Her breath hitched, her lashes fluttered, and a blush bloomed across her cheeks like a sunrise creeping up her skin. [color=1E90FF]“No heat. No fever.”[/color] [color=D0B4EC]“Uh—”[/color] she breathed, her voice thinner than usual, her eyes wide as a deer’s. And then, as if the gods hadn’t teased her enough, he swept the back of his palm across her forehead, brushing a few loose strands of her hair aside with it. The light touch made her swallow hard. [color=1E90FF]“No fever,”[/color] he repeated with a smile. [color=1E90FF]“So you are not sick. Only drunk.”[/color] Charlotte managed a small, flustered laugh, her hands fluttering awkwardly toward her lap. [color=D0B4EC]“O-Okay. I suppose I am... inebriated, then.”[/color] The warmth of his gesture lingered like a soft echo against her skin, and though it had undeniably left her flustered, she couldn’t say the affection was unwelcome. In fact, she may have even needed it. After the weight of overhearing Thea and Leo speak of her with such dispassion, whether those words had truly been meant or simply twisted—this moment, this gentleness, had settled like a balm over a bruised wound, whether it had been real or imagined. To feel, even fleeting, like perhaps she had mattered was comforting. [color=1E90FF]“S-Sorry! I, ah, I do that for my sister, when she is not feeling well. To check…Body heat. And you, ah, you remind me of her. A little.”[/color] He cleared his throat, then extended a glass of water to her. [color=1E90FF]“A-Anyway, here. Water. You should drink more. Wash the wine away from you, yes? Then, you will be fine.”[/color] She accepted the glass and took a long sip, more to soothe his nerves than her own. Then, as her eyes lifted to meet his, there was a gentleness in them that reached beyond the moment.[color=D0B4EC]“It must be absolutely lovely to have a little sister,”[/color] she said softly, the corners of her lips curved into a wistful smile. [color=D0B4EC]“And she must be quite lucky… to have someone like you watching over her.”[/color] Her fingers idly tapped against the glass, a soft rhythm betraying the heaviness behind her words. [color=D0B4EC]“I always dreamed of having a sibling growing up…”[/color] There was a softness in her voice when she added, [color=D0B4EC]“And if I could’ve chosen a brother,”[/color] she continued, a tender smile forming, [color=D0B4EC]“I think… he would’ve been just like you.”[/color] Her fingers suddenly found his again in a quiet gesture of reassurance. [color=D0B4EC]“You’re doing wonderfully, you know,”[/color] she said, her voice as gentle as the first breeze through spring leaves. [color=D0B4EC] “It’s not easy, being somewhere new... I remember the first time I traveled beyond Caesonia. I can scarcely remember, as I was just a little girl then, visiting my baaba in Kimoon. I was so frightened by how different everything felt. But in time, with gentle faces and open arms, even that strange new place began to feel like a second home..."[/color] Her eyes lit up as his earlier words dawned on her, widening with an almost childlike wonder. [color=D0B4EC]“Oh, and sailing?”[/color] she gasped, leaning in a little as her hands clasped together in front of her chest. [color=D0B4EC]“I’m turning positively green with envy. I’ve read so many swashbuckling pirate tales that it’s become a bit of a ridiculous fantasy of mine. Sailing across the open sea, wind in my hair, and, you know...”[/color] She lowered her voice dramatically, eyes sparkling,[color=D0B4EC]“...fighting off a kraken or two. Strictly for heroics, of course.”[/color] She paused, then laughed at herself with a soft shake of her head. [color=D0B4EC]“Though in reality, I’d [i]probably[/i] trip over a rope and get eaten first. Very inspiring.”[/color] [color=5F9EA0]“... Oh, and did I not just see your [i]bastard[/i] assault one of my father’s esteemed guests?[/color] It had as if fate had orchestrated the moment, as if the air had bent to guide the sound of Callum's voice to her. Her gaze snapped toward him as if pulled by an invisible cord. There was no mistaking what she had heard. And the reaction that bloomed in her chest was swift and visceral. It was an unfamiliar kind of anger rising like a tide she hadn’t realized she could carry. Without meaning to, she fixed Callum with a stare so sharp it could’ve carved stone. Perhaps it had been even more cutting than even Calbert’s reaction in that moment. As he went on, she commented out loud softly to Sjan-dehk, her voice laced with disbelief, [color=D0B4EC]“What in heavens... "[/color] Callum had never been someone she was close to, but she had grown up watching him from afar at royal affairs, year after year. She knew his mannerisms by now and this wasn’t like him. Not in tone. Not in cruelty. He had never spoken with such calculated malice, and certainly never toward someone like Cassius another black sheep with the same sort of weight in his step. Her brows drew together, a frown forming with the unease curling in her belly. And yet, the possibility hovered—[i]What if I'm not even hearing right?[/i] Roman and Violet had seemed out of character as well, after all. It was as if everyone had been cast into unfamiliar roles in a play she didn’t recall agreeing to attend. Even Charlotte herself. For example, it made absolutely no sense to her that she had reacted so emotionally over Callum's words when Cassius had made his choice loud and clear. And of course, Cassius had heard. And of course, he was going to say something—without restraint, without a filter, and without the faintest concern for the depleting decorum that the rest of the banquet clung to. [color=lightsteelblue]“What humors me, little prince, is this…I’m a bastard. Unwelcome here by many. A stain on the family line. A walking reminder of everything most fathers would try to bury. And a real pain in the ass at that.”[/color] Charlotte fixated her gaze on him, a cold knot of dread forming in her stomach. [color=lightsteelblue]“And even still…My father loves me more than our King has ever even pretended to love you.”[/color] [color=D0B4EC][i]Oh dear… That was much too far.[/i][/color] [color=lightsteelblue]“That’s the difference between you and me, Callum. I was born a problem, and still, here I stand…as [i]his chosen son[/i]. And you? You’re just acting like a mouthpiece for a crown that’s too ashamed to be anywhere near your head. And speaking of shame...”[/color] His words were like daggers being thrown across the room, sharp and unyielding, but it was his eyes—[i]the way they blazed[/i]—that startled her most. That fury… it wasn’t the heat of a tantrum. And for the briefest, fleeting moment, Charlotte wondered—How would it feel if that gaze was ever turned on her? She had seen Cassius wear many masks, but this was not a mask. This was something darker. Something that would scorch anything that stood in its path. And though it frightened her, she couldn’t deny it. Somewhere deep in her chest, she felt proud of him. Especially as he went on to defend Violet, despite all he had said about the Damien family to her just the other night. Then came the line. [color=lightsteelblue]“...Because if you do…I swear to the cunts above you call gods, and to the very king sitting right here in front of us both, that you won’t even make it to your little trial.”[/color] Charlotte blinked. The death threat was certainly overkill. There was no delicate way around it. And yet, it wasn’t the violence of the words that unsettled her most. It was the risk. She shifted uncomfortably in her chair, and from her anxiety, the shadows returned. Her gaze lifted slowly and uncertainly as shadows began to crawl like ink across the walls, stretching higher and thicker with every breath she took. The once-warm light of the chandelier above seemed to dim, flickering unnaturally as though the air itself had turned heavy with dread. Charlotte stiffened. The hairs on her neck rose, and a chill coiled at the base of her spine. She tried to tell herself it was nothing, but then she felt that dreadful feeling. [i]Hands.[/i] Not seen, but felt. Cool and unseen fingers creeping up the length of her arms. They slithered like snakes over her skin, as if something was tracing the veins beneath it, trying to learn the map of her from the inside out. The hall seemed further away now, voices muffled like she was underwater. Even Cassius’s words, just moments ago as sharp as broken glass, now felt like a distant storm behind fogged glass. This time, she stayed perfectly still. Though fear coiled tightly in her chest, clawing its way up her throat, she didn't feel the urge to budge. But it wasn’t calm. It was the stillness of someone who understood. A dreadful awareness washed over her. Her gaze shifted to the others, desperate for one of them to say something ridiculously dramatic and bring her back to reality. However, Alexander's voice was drowned out beyond comprehension, the words indistinct, swallowed by a creeping static. [color=D0B4EC][i]I'm either poisoned or cursed.[/i][/color] Her brows knit together as they had earlier, and she had even wondered for a moment if perhaps she had simply gone mad. But either way, Charlotte felt a sense of resignation. If she had somehow been poisoned, then this could very well be her end. She wondered for a moment if she should leave, or if what even she should do, but instead the thought that took over her mind-[color=D0B4EC][i]I don't think I even said hello to Kazumin and Fritz yet.[/i][/color] And somehow… that single, defiant thought was enough to get her on her feet. Though her knees trembled and her heart thundered like distant hooves against the earth, Charlotte stood. She moved first toward Count Fritz, and without a word, she slipped her arms around his shoulders from behind in a tender yet possibly unexpected hug. It lasted only a moment, but it was sincere, a silent thank-you written in touch instead of words. Then, before any reply could follow, she continued around the table with purposeful steps. Kazumin was next. Without hesitation, she wrapped her arms around him in a warm, heartfelt embrace, one that lingered a moment longer than politeness required. He had begun to feel like a younger brother lately, a constant in her chaos, and so she gave him a big squeeze, as if to silently protect him from all the shadows she couldn’t name. What he had told her the other day was still fresh in her mind, after all. [color=D0B4EC]"I'm always so happy to see you, Kazumin."[/color] She had wanted him to know, just in the off chance she hadn't gotten another chance to say it. And before she could return to her seat, she saw Cassius stepping back toward his own. Her body moved before her mind could catch up, before reason could pull her back. And before her mind could tell her otherwise, her arms were around him too. It wasn’t grand or dramatic, but it was real. She knew that everything he said the other night didn't matter anymore, that he was back with Kalliope now. Maybe it hadn't been real then for him, but it had been real for her. And for whatever reason, in that moment, she hadn't even noticed Lorenzo had called Alexander's name, and hadn't noticed as he stepped past her, as her arms had encased themselves around him. Ever so briefly, she laid her head on his chest the way she had at the masquerade. Then, as if nothing had happened, she pulled away and looked up at him with a soft smile. And then, she turned and made her way back to sit beside Sjan-dehk. [/color]