[color=lightgray][center][img]https://i.imgur.com/YGxzxVR.png[/img] [img]https://i.imgur.com/wA3P0IB.gif[/img][/center] [color=D0B4EC]Time:[/color] Evening [color=D0B4EC]Location:[/color] Summary --> Vikena Estate --> Carriage [color=D0B4EC]Attire:[/color] [url=https://i.imgur.com/XgrtOQU.png]Outfit[/url] [color=D0B4EC]Interaction:[/color] [@FunnyGuy] Lorenzo [/color] [hr] [color=lightgray] Charlotte had been practicing magic for the last few days. It had been since Ignis 5th; that had been the day she had opened the book she had found,[url=i.imgur.com/uSmYAHx.jpeg]Starcatcher[/url], for the first time. She had told herself it was only to read, but that lasted perhaps a minute before she found herself tugging at a lock of hair. She had first dallied with Chapter One, in the confines of her bedroom, a lit candle wavering in the darkness. The earliest spell had been light, and when she whispered Illumina with her palm pressed to the page, a warm orb bloomed at her hand, and a glow painted the room. For the next ten minutes, she could see everything clearly, every nook and crevice. And then it vanished. The world did not go fully black, but it might as well have. After that, she tried spells that felt harmless... on paper at least. Movere made a ribbon slide across her vanity without her touching it. Mutatio changed the color of a fountain pen. She had then spent the rest of the day staring at her own hands and the world around her with disoriented frustration. On Ignis 6, she had spent the afternoon with [color=limegreen]Kazumin[/color] and the evening dinner with [color=salmon]Lorenzo[/color]. Somewhere between the two, she met with [color=lightsteelblue]Cassius[/color] again, just as she would sneak out to do several more times over that week. But later that night, when the house fell quiet once more, she returned to Chapter One again, then again through the evening of the 7th and then the 8th and the 9th after Roman's visit. By Ignis 8th, she had realized she did not need to tear hair from her head anymore. When she wasn't using the spellbook, she kept it wrapped and hidden. Despite her better judgment, there had been something invigorating about magic: a guilty rush from just how easy it all was at first. The consequences were never cruel in a dramatic way, more maddening in a way that made her understand why the book warned against carelessness. The punishments were not the end of the world, which was precisely what made them dangerous. But then came Ignis 10th. [hr] They hadn't even knocked that morning. Gilbert had barreled in suddenly, armed with food to the point of absurdity—a monstrosity of a breakfast balanced on a tray, a second plate somehow balancing on his elbow another on other elbow. Delilah followed so close behind that she had nearly walked into him, carrying a basket of pastries in one hand and a pot of tea in the other. Both of them were panting as though they had sprinted up the stairs. Charlotte startled upright, her hair sticking in all directions. She blinked, barely awake. [color=#D0B4EC]“Good morning,”[/color] she managed, voice hoarse. Her gaze flicked from the food to Delilah’s face, then to Gilbert’s. [color=#D0B4EC]“Are we feeding the Caesonian military this morning?”[/color] Gilbert set the tray down so hard the cutlery rattled. His hands were shaking, and the look in his eyes... Charlotte's expression fell. [color=7bcdc8]“Lottie—”[/color] he started, then stopped and swallowed. Delilah was already at her side. [color=7ea7d8]“Oh, Lottie… Oh my girl,”[/color] she whispered, and her hands were cupping Charlotte’s cheeks as if she were a child near and dear to her heart. For a moment, Charlotte thought she was even checking if her skin was still warm. Her thumbs rubbed at the skin under Charlotte’s eyes. When Delilah’s face finally crumpled, Charlotte understood the extent of her despair. [color=7ea7d8]“You can’t leave us like that,”[/color] she breathed in a broken voice. Her eyes shone as if she had been crying long before she even opened the door. [color=7ea7d8]“You scared us [i]so[/i] bad, Lottie.”[/color] Charlotte blinked hard, her few awake brain cells caught somewhere between the ridiculousness of it all and the guilt of somehow making these two feel so despondent. Her chest tightened despite her confusion, and she drew back just enough to look between them, brows knitted. [color=#D0B4EC]“Delilah,”[/color] she started, and her voice grew louder. [color=#D0B4EC]“Gilbert—what is this? What has happened?”[/color] Her voice rose. [i][color=#D0B4EC]“Why are you both acting like I’ve died?”[/color][/i] Gilbert held a paper in front of her face and jabbed a finger at a line rather [i]violently.[/i] Charlotte’s eyes dropped to it. She didn't even need more than a moment to read the whole thing. The line caught her like a hook. [color=red][b][i]Many witnesses all agree they saw Lady Charlotte Vikena almost throw herself off the balcony at the first ball of the season. Luckily, Count Damien was there to stop her.[/i] [/b][/color] For a moment, the room went still. Charlotte’s fingers curled into the blankets, shock gripping her body like a vice. Then she snapped. [color=#D0B4EC]“I didn’t— I’d never!”[/color] Her voice rose, shrill with disbelief, and she practically fell out of the bed. [color=#D0B4EC]“You have to believe that [i]never[/i] happened.”[/color] A lump formed in her throat as her heart hammered against her ribs, and she looked wildly between them, as if either of their faces might confirm what was real and what wasn’t. But she really never gave them a chance to respond. [color=#D0B4EC]“Who else has seen this?”[/color] Her eyes flashed, widening further. [color=#D0B4EC]“Has [i][color=salmon]Lorenzo[/color][/i]?”[/color] [color=7ea7d8]“I… I don’t think so, Lottie,”[/color] Delilah managed, voice shaking. That hesitation of hers made Charlotte’s stomach drop, and her breath hitched. Then she snatched the paper and ripped it down the middle, the sound of it tearing filled the air. Tears finally gathered in her eyes. [color=#D0B4EC]“The last thing [color=salmon]Lorenzo[/color] needs is to think I would do what my mother did,”[/color] she choked out, her words painted in her dread. [color=#D0B4EC]“He’d blame himself. He’d—”[/color] She shook her head, her breath shuddering. And then the fear bled into rage so quickly it almost startled even her. Her jaw clenched, her hands balled into fists. [color=#D0B4EC]“I will [i]strangle[/i] that Count Damien the moment I get my hands on him,”[/color] she hissed with such intensity that the other two wondered if the threat was in actuality a promise. [hr] Instead of rushing to the Count’s house, she spent most of the day locked in her room, wound so tight she could hardly sit still. She avoided the halls, avoided the windows, avoided [color=#8FBC8B][i]even Olivia[/i][/color]. Maybe no one had read it. Maybe everyone had. And if they had… what would that mean for her? She had grown used to gossip by now, the lifted chins and condescending stares that she and [color=salmon]Lorenzo[/color] always seemed to collect just by existing. But could she endure pity? Could she endure being looked at like she was fragile, ...or [i]powerless?[/i] Her mind traveled back to [color=lightsteelblue]Cassius[/color], and Charlotte clenched her fists until her nails bit into her palms. In the end, she opened the book again. Not the beginning this time, but deeper into the pages. Eventually, she found a spell that brought her relief, because it sounded like something that could get her through the night… and remind anyone who needed reminding exactly who she was. Charlotte read the aftereffects twice. She should have closed the book right then. But her body did not obey the sensible part of her mind. She kept her voice low. She did not let herself overthink it, because she knew she would stop if she thought about it. The only part that mattered was that [color=lightsteelblue]Cassius[/color], [color=limegreen]Kazumin[/color], and [color=#8FBC8B]Olivia[/color]—and especially [color=salmon]Lorenzo[/color], who would be hurt worse by this callous lie than anyone—would believe her. And perhaps there was another mercy in it all: if Alexander, the hunters, or even the Black Rose tried to confront her, she would not be caught so unprepared. This would not go the way the last ball did, or the banquet. She was going to be someone who could protect her stepfather. [color=#D0B4EC]“Fortitudo,”[/color] she whispered. Then warmth gathered in her chest, and it spread outward until her hands stopped trembling. The air did not change, but something in her did, and the difference was immediate. The fear that had been choking her for hours did not vanish; it simply loosened its grip, as if someone had pried its fingers away one by one. She sat there with the book open for a long while before she decided it was best she choose her dress for the ball now. There was no getting out of it; it'd look terrible if she and [color=salmon]Lorenzo[/color] didn't show after what happened next time. But this time, she did not want to be the soft girl with the ribbon in her hair who people could expect to throw themselves over the railing. She rose, closed Starcatcher, and wrapped it again, then tucked it away. After that, Charlotte went down into the basement with a lamp held in her hand. She found the old trunk where her mother’s things had been stored away, the one that had often been left untouched. The lamp light flickered as she lifted the lid, and the smell of time rose up at her. She sorted through the folded cloth until she found a navy blue dress, not the sort of color she often reached for. For some reason, she could not recall her mother ever wearing this one before. Instead, she pulled the dress free and held it up, watching as it glimmered in the light. But it was then she noticed the bold slit, and she tilted her head. Charlotte expected she'd feel the urge to put it back immediately on sight, but instead, she felt the odd satisfaction of realizing it fit the version of herself she wanted to be tonight. Back in her room, she put on the dress with some help from Delilah, who did express concern more times than Charlotte wanted to hear. When she sat at her vanity, she reached for darker makeup than she ever wore in public, deepening her eyes until she felt she no longer looked easy to read. When she finally looked up properly, she held her reflection’s eyes. The girl in the mirror still had tiredness in her eyes, but she also looked like someone who could walk into a ballroom and not crumble. She looked... powerful, and Charlotte liked that. So she informed Delilah to let [color=salmon]Lorenzo[/color] know she was waiting in the carriage, and made her way to that very destination. [center][hider=The Look][img]https://i.imgur.com/St9RSnc.png[/img][/hider][/center] [/color]