[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] [@Oso] Cassius [@JJ Doe] Fritz [@FunnyGuy] Lorenzo/Alexander [/color] [hr] [color=lightgray] [color=9354FF]“If you were poisoned, should you be out here eavesdropping rather than on your way to a doctor?”[/color] His question brought a faint flush of embarrassment to her cheeks, mingling with her already heightened nerves. [color=D0B4EC] "I am not entirely certain that poison is the culprit,"[/color] Charlotte replied quietly as she accepted the lens, her hands betraying her with a subtle tremor as she lifted them to her eyes. [color=D0B4EC]"I’ve scarcely eaten nor drunk tonight, but the vividness of the hallucinations makes such a possibility impossible to dismiss. Symptoms like these—distorted perception, disorientation—are consistent with alkaloid-based toxins..."[/color] Her brow furrowed gently, the gears of her mind visibly turning behind her blue eyes as she studied the muddied edges of her aura through the lens. It was perhaps clouded. But still, she withheld any rash conclusions, though the chill twisting down her spine whispered otherwise.[color=D0B4EC]"...Yet, regardless of what ails me,"[/color] she added, her voice softening but the steel threading through it unmistakable, [color=D0B4EC]"I will not—[i]cannot[/i]—leave my father at the mercy of that [i]villain[/i]."[/color] [color=9354FF]“These symptoms… do they feel similar to that night at the masquerade?”[/color] Charlotte shook her head gently as she returned the lenses to Fritz. [color=D0B4EC]"No, dear. This is different,"[/color] she murmured. Her gaze followed Fritz’s demonstration with the tumblers, the corner of her lips curling faintly as recognition stirred in her expression. Her expression grew tender, her voice a whisper filled with profound sincerity. [color=D0B4EC]“Thank you, Fritz. You always have a remarkable way of appearing precisely when I need you most.”[/color] She smiled faintly, a fragile, gracious thing that did not quite reach her eyes. With that, Charlotte pressed the tumbler to the door. Her breath slowed, lashes lowering as she focused, allowing the muffled chaos beyond the wood to filter through—every word, every syllable sharpening into clarity: [Color=salmon]“Don’t pretend to be foolish! You know exactly what this is about!”[/color] [Color=gold]“I… I don't, your grace… If it's about your shares with the Black Rose Trading Company, your hefty investment is more than secure, I assure you.”[/color] [Color=salmon]“Oh! Hmm… let's discuss [I]this[/I] matter quickly and then we can talk about you and Charlotte.”[/color] Charlotte inhaled sharply, her heart suddenly loud in her ears. [color=D0B4EC][i]Lorenzo has an investment with the Black Rose? A hefty one at that?[/i][/color] The revelation struck her like a slap, her breath catching painfully in her throat. But before she could tumble further down that spiral, a hand landed upon her shoulder. She gasped aloud, then her body recoiled on instinct. She looked over her shoulder, wide-eyed, until her gaze collided with his. [color=lightsteelblue]"Lottie..."[/color] It was Cassius, staring down at her with those eyes—those [i]damn[/i] eyes she had only moments ago watched flicker with careless flirtation toward Kalliope. For a fleeting second, a cocktail of emotions bloomed within her: frustration, confusion, jealousy, and something she dared not name. But the chaos within her dulled as her gaze lingered upon his face. [color=lightsteelblue]"You shouldn’t be here. Not like this. 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 in a way that suggested he was trying to garner an ally in his pursuit, 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] Her brows drew together once more, but this time not from fear—no, it was protest now, indignation flickering beneath the fragile veneer of her composure. There was a flood of responses rising inside her, a torrent of words she wanted to unleash. She wanted to say them all... To remind him she wasn’t some trembling damsel to be told where she should or shouldn’t be. That he, of all people, had no right—[i]no right[/i]— But then Cassius took her trembling hands gently in such a [i]manner[/i] that the tension melted from her features like frost beneath morning sunlight. [color=lightsteelblue]"Come with me. Please. Just for a little while... let me make sure you’re alright."[/color] The words were soft, coaxing—utterly at odds with the man who had moments ago faced the entire court with fire in his veins. Yet, it wasn’t his words that dulled the blaze in her chest. Though the anger still simmered behind her eyes, the fight seeped from her shoulders, [color=D0B4EC]"Very well,"[/color] she whispered, [color=D0B4EC]"In a moment… but first, I must be certain he’s safe."[/color] Her tone left little room for debate, as did the flicker of stubbornness that returned to her gaze. With that, she inclined her head toward the door, lifting the tumbler once more to her lips, determination painting her expression with resolve. [Color=salmon]“Terrible. Absolutely terrible! She came back home with her eyes low and barely able to sit down to listen to how my performance went at the theater! I'm sure you heard. I won the damned thing! No contest!”[/color] [Color=gold]“And… what about now? [I]Lottie[/I]. I she doing better? I believe I noticed her spea-”[/color] [Color=salmon]“DON’T YOU!”[/color] [Color=salmon]“Don't you dare say it, Deacon! Don’t you dare tell ME what you saw! Are you blind?! Do you not see that I am her father?! The only parent she has left… I saw everything she did tonight. I saw how she slowly crumbled away… She crumbled away and lost her self-worth while staring at her reflection in her wine glass… Do you want to know what else I saw, Deacon..? Hm?!”[/color] [color=D0B4EC]"Lost... my self-worth?"[/color] The words left her lips in a fragile whisper, like the ghost of a thought spoken aloud before she could stop herself. Confusion furrowed her brow, as if the words themselves cut deeper than she could immediately process. [Color=salmon]“What I saw was the moment my Lottie decided [I]any[/I] man who could so much as breath… was worthy enough for her embrace. And it's all because of you… isn't it?”[/color] Charlotte stared at the door, lashes trembling as tears welled in her eyes, blurring her reflection into something unrecognizable—a broken, desperate silhouette she refused to claim as her own. [color=D0B4EC][i]Is that truly how he sees me?[/i][/color] The thought rang like a death knell in her mind. [Color=gold]“Lorenzo, I’m sorry. Truly, I am...but I am not the man who wounded her heart. That dove is too precious. A rare soul that young woman is... In truth, Charlotte was in a similar state at the art gallery as well. One moment, she was wallowing in something deep. Drowning in it. The next, she was preening over me. She even attempted to kiss me...but it was our first outing together and in the public eye… you and I, we both know how such an intimate exchange would look… with a married man at that. I was only trying to protect her in my refusal but… I do wonder now, Lorenzo. Who could have hurt her… Twisted her mind in such a cruel and awful way?”[/color] So that was how Lorenzo saw her. A [i]pitiful[/i], [i]foolish[/i] girl. So starved for affection she’d drape herself over any man who so much as breathed in her direction. Just another [i]desperate[/i], [i]simpering[/i] whore. That was how they all saw her now, wasn’t it? Ever since that cursed ball. And truth be told, she had thought she’d stopped caring. But she had been wrong. Because perhaps what some strangers thought in a gossip column hadn't mattered. But what her father thought did. Her stomach churned violently, and for a moment, she thought she might [hider=TW Sickness]spill its contents onto the stone floor beneath her.[/hider] The sour burn of humiliation clawed at the back of her throat, but she swallowed it down bitterly, forcing it to stay where it belonged. Had she been naïve to believe Lorenzo—[i]her father[/i]—would see her? Understand her? And yet, here she was, still glaring at the door like a child, clinging to a hope already shattered in her trembling hands. Foolish, broken hope that he might see through Alexander’s honeyed lies. That he might believe she had not preened over that serpent of a man. That she had not tried to kiss him of her own will—that he had twisted her mind, not the other way around. It was one of the moments where there was too much to say, so much so that she could scream. So much that it strangled the words in her throat. Only a suffocating silence followed as she pushed herself to her feet, skirts brushing the cold stone beneath her trembling legs. Her face remained the portrait of composure, but inside, something ancient and feral twisted. And when she rose, the mask cracked... not into tears, but something else. Every breath felt jagged, caught between fury and heartbreak, and in that breathless, unbearable moment, she braced herself to throw those doors open. [/color]