Thorns and Roses | Fire Emblem Awakening (Holiday Shepherds Book 2)

Chapter 6: Ylissean Roses

Charlotte

It is amazing how suddenly someone can believe that they are going to die.

Lady Charlotte had been having the time of her life just half an hour before. The party was in full swing, and she'd had flocks of people surrounding her in the ballroom, all desiring to be included in her social circle. Her best friends had been among them, hanging onto her every word. Viscount Luther had actually offered her a drink. All had been going well.

She would never admit it to anyone, but she harboured silly feelings for Luther. So when he had given her a glass of wine and talked to her, she'd felt a warm glow inside. It was a mixture of pleasure from being in the spotlight and a sense of rebellion. Her father would rarely let her drink, even though she was certainly old enough, and he would definitely frown upon any close relations between her and the viscount. She was twenty, true, but Luther was only eight years older. Her father was so protective.

It had been satisfying to see the heat of Luther's anger melt away from his eyes when he'd been talking with her. She'd thought that it was because she was something special, and she'd promised herself that in the morning, she would talk to her father about the argument that she had overheard. He was being selfish. Luther had been a loyal lieutenant to him for years, and a little more land was the least that he deserved.

She had never realised that Luther had been so happy in her presence because he was plotting to get his revenge.

Now, she was tearing down the street, barely able to stay standing on the pavement as it slid sideways into the sky. It was pitch black except for the occasional lantern, and she just wanted to go home. But home was behind her, in the direction of the pursuer she was trying to outrun. She had no choice but to move further and further away from it.

Her head was pounding and her vision was turning fuzzy. What a time for the gods to pick to deal her a bad hand in life. If these symptoms had presented themselves just half an hour ago, she would have been safely tucked up in bed. Now she was trying to save herself. All she wanted to do was fall to her knees and be sick.

She forced the bile down her throat and kept on running. Her foot slipped on the cobblestones that were slick from recent rain, and the heel of her shoe caught the back of her dress. The sound of the silk tearing rung in her ears as she toppled forwards, but for once, she didn't worry about the state of such an expensive garment. Instead, as her knees hit the floor and someone grabbed her by the waist, she worried about herself.

"Your father will regret denying me power," Luther murmured in her ear. "Are you feeling a little ill, darling? Perhaps you might consider that your wine didn't agree with you." He chuckled. "If your father won't let me expand my horizons and make a more impressive safe holding, he can at least let me add one more girl to my collection."

❤ ❤ ❤

Someone's hand was on her shoulder, shaking her awake. For a moment, Lady Charlotte thought that it might be Luther. She almost screamed.

Then the fog of her nightmare began to clear, and she realised that the touch was too gentle to be the viscount. She looked up and met the gunmetal grey eyes of an armoured woman whose face and ginger hair were streaked with dust.

The woman offered Charlotte a small smile, then turned around to shout something through the open door of the cell. Charlotte was too tired to understand what it was.

"You're safe now," the woman said, pulling Charlotte to her feet.

Another female soldier entered the cell, and both she and the ginger-haired woman wrapped their arms around Charlotte's shoulders so that she would be able to walk.