"Please..." Serena managed to croak, but the hand only clamped tighter around her throat. Her toes scraped helplessly against the stone floor as Charlotte pressed her back, suspending her weight with ease.
Serena had never expected things to turn this violently. She had crept into her room with care, not a single guard noting her absence or return. The gift and the letter were tucked neatly together on the desk, hidden in plain sight. She had even locked her door before descending to the hall for supper.
Charlotte had been seated already, oddly quiet. Her expression was unreadable. Then, before Serena could draw a proper breath, she had been struck clean off her feet.
That had been her only word before the woman was on her, hand to her throat, lifting her with practiced fury. ʀᴇᴀᴅ ʟᴀᴛᴇsᴛ ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀs ᴀᴛ novｅlfire.net
"And who do you truly think you are?" Charlotte asked, her voice a flat line. Serena wheezed, her hands scrabbling uselessly at Charlotte’s grip. The corners of her vision started to blur, her lungs begged for respite and she began to see stars at the edge of her eyes.
"You walk these halls as though you own them. You vanish as you please. Who gave you that right?" Charlotte snarled, dragging her close. "Need I remind you, you are a rogue. A branded outcast. You are under my jurisdiction."
Serena choked. Words refused to form, she could barely think.
"Darius has been lenient, he has more work than sleep these days but do not confuse that with indulgence. Do not mistake his silence as my permission," Charlotte said, her tone turning colder with each syllable.
Still no breath. Serena’s fingers were beginning to tingle.
Then, just as Serena’s knees buckled fully, Charlotte released her.
Serena dropped to the floor in a heap, gasping, coughing, spitting air like it was water after a drowning. Her body curled instinctively, lungs heaving with shallow, desperate gulps. She hadn’t even fully gathered herself before Charlotte seized her again, this time by the front of her dress, slamming her lightly but firmly into the stone wall.
"Stand," she hissed through her teeth. "Compose yourself."
Serena could barely raise her head. She shook from head to foot.
Footsteps, light as rain, echoed down the corridor. A melodic laugh followed, and then the voice of Lady Amara. "My, what have I walked into?" she asked pleasantly, her words wrapped in silk and laced with amusement.
Charlotte’s posture shifted instantly. She turned, easing away from Serena, who slumped against the wall as though her limbs could no longer hold her weight. She swiped at her eyes, trying to force the tears back. Her lungs still hitched, breath still caught and rattling in her throat.
"Oh, Lady Amara," Charlotte said, the mimicry of an Eastern lilt slipping neatly into her words. "You know how it is. Nothing more than a misunderstanding. A bit of heat between friends."
Amara stepped into view, her red velvet cloak trailing behind her. Her golden eyes landed on Serena with a flicker of interest. "She does not seem well."
Serena straightened as best she could, pressing the back of her hand to her mouth. Her voice, hoarse and barely above a whisper, came too late.
Amara tilted her head. "You do not look fine."
Charlotte laughed again, smooth and overly cheerful. "Oh, she is simply not used to the castle’s pace. Bit of a dizzy spell, perhaps? It can be quite overwhelming, especially for someone with no retinue or familiarity with our customs."
Amara’s brow rose, but she said nothing at first. She took a step closer to Serena, who was still leaning heavily against the wall. "Are you certain?"
Serena nodded, blinking quickly to clear her vision. "It was a small... spell. It has passed."
"You are pale," Amara said quietly. "You should sit. Have some water."
Charlotte smiled sweetly. "I shall see to that myself. The kitchens are not far. I will have someone fetch it."
Amara’s eyes lingered a moment longer on Serena before she gave a graceful nod. "Very well. I will trust your word, Lady Charlotte. But do not hesitate to call for me should you need something more."
Charlotte dipped into a perfect curtsy. "Of course, my lady."
With a final glance, Amara turned and continued down the corridor, her voice drifting back as she greeted someone unseen beyond the bend.
The moment she was out of earshot, Charlotte’s smile vanished.
"You had best keep your story tight," she murmured. "No one here will catch you if you fall."
Then, without another word, she left Serena in the corridor, shaking, breathless, and entirely alone.
Serena stared down at her trembling hands and let out a pained sound, half a sob, half a gasp. Her knees buckled, and she sank to the floor, clutching her head. She dragged her fingers through her hair, trying to steady herself, but her whole body quaked from the aftershock. Her throat throbbed with bruised agony, every breath ragged and sharp.
Would Charlotte have knocked her out if Lady Amara had not appeared?
Serena swallowed thickly, wincing as the motion pulled at her sore windpipe. It was not the physical pain that unmoored her—it was the brutal words that echoed over and over.
Those words had been flung at her like rot, and it clung harder than any bruise.
She squeezed her eyes shut, but the tears spilled anyway. Hot, humiliated tears that stung worse than fire. Her chest heaved again, and she buried her face in her hands, wishing she had never left her room. Wishing she had never come to Ironshade at all.
Serena rose on unsteady feet, the world blurring at the edges like she was moving through water. Her hands moved without thought, opening doors, guiding her steps. She reached her room in silence, heart echoing like it belonged to someone else entirely.