[center][img]https://i.imgur.com/lp7lay3.png[/img]
[hr][i][color=LightSteelBlue]Time: Evening[/color] 
[color=LightSteelBlue]Location: Banquet Hall[/color] 
[color=LightSteelBlue]Mentions / Interactions:[/color] [@FunnyGuy] Alexander, Lorenzo [@princess] Charlotte,  [@JJ Doe] Count Fritz[/i][/center]
[hr]

[color=lightgray]

Cassius stood there for a long moment, staring at the space where Charlotte had just been.

The scent of her perfume still lingered on his coat, faint and floral, and it clawed at something buried too deep for him to name. The way she had gripped him... the way her voice had broken when she said she would be back... it hadn’t felt like someone chasing gossip or justice. It felt more like someone chasing ghosts.

And all around him, the feast carried on. Silverware clinked against porcelain, laughter resumed at half-volume, and the royals whispered behind half-hidden fans and wine glasses, but Cassius didn’t care. Not anymore…not tonight.

Because something was wrong with Charlotte.

The signs were no longer subtle. The trembling, the pale skin, the glazed eyes... whatever haunted her wasn’t imagined. And he had ignored the first signs…chalked it up to emotion, or alcohol, or just the sheer mess of the evening…but no, this was different. This was danger.

And now she was gone, alone, chasing after her stepfather and that bastard vampire like it was some secret she had to uncover. His jaw clenched as he thought about it. About what Lorenzo had said... or implied. About Alexander and Charlotte. It didn’t make sense. It didn’t line up with what he knew of her... what he felt about her. But now wasn’t the time to question it. He filed the confusion away, cold and tight, like a blade tucked against the small of his back. Something to draw later.

He turned without another word and followed.

The hallway stretched before him, empty and dim, lit only by lamplight. He moved silently, steps fluid and precise, the sound of his boots swallowed by velvet carpet and instinct. It didn’t take long to find her.

She was pressed against the wall, just outside a shut door. Fritz was beside her, crouched low, listening through a tumbler of glass. The sight should’ve been ridiculous, but there was nothing funny about the way Charlotte’s arms wrapped around herself, like she was the only thing holding her body together.

He approached slowly, not wanting to startle her... and yet, the moment he reached her, she flinched anyway.

His hand found her shoulder, warm and steady.

[color=lightsteelblue]"Lottie..."[/color] His voice was quiet, gentler than anyone had heard from him that night. [color=lightsteelblue]"You shouldn’t be here. Not like this."[/color]

He didn’t offer enough time for a response. 

[color=lightsteelblue]"I know you think whatever’s happening behind that door matters, and maybe it does... But right now, it doesn’t matter more than you."[/color] His eyes flicked briefly toward Fritz full of concern, then back to her. [color=lightsteelblue]"You look like you're about to fall over... your skin’s cold, your hands are shaking. Whatever’s happening to you... it’s not going to wait until you get the answers you want."[/color]

He took both of her hands in his again, holding them between his palms.

[color=lightsteelblue]"Come with me. Please. Just for a little while... let me make sure you’re alright."[/color][/color]