The Crowns Gambit

❦ Chapter Fourteen: Charlotte ❦

I awoke to an eerie silence, the type that felt too heavy, as if it was trying to smother any warmth the morning sun had to offer. The day felt thick with anticipation, the castle walls holding secrets that even I, its princess, couldn't fully grasp. Talia was already bustling around, a crease of worry on her face as she helped me prepare.

"Something doesn't feel right," she said, tightening the lace on my dress. Her hands moved with purpose, but I could see the way her brows knit together, her gaze flickering to the window as though she expected an army to march through at any moment.

"I feel it too," I admitted, glancing out over the courtyard. Soldiers moved in double lines, training harder than usual, and I caught sight of my father's advisors in hushed, urgent conversation as they passed. The tension was palpable, weighing on everyone like a storm looming on the horizon.

We barely had a chance to process what was happening when the castle doors slammed open, and one of the guards rushed in, his face pale. "Your Majesty! Princess Charlotte!"

I stepped forward. "What is it?"

"Rebels have been sighted outside the castle gates. They're... they're demanding an audience with the king."

My heart skipped a beat. The rebels here? They'd never been so brazen before. Sure, we'd heard rumors of unrest, but a direct confrontation at the gates? The very thought chilled me.

"Where is my father?" I asked, feeling an urgency in my voice that I couldn't quite hide.

"In the throne room, preparing to address them." The guard hesitated, looking torn. "He insisted you stay here, Your Highness. For your own safety."

Of course he did. My father, always so protective, always so eager to shield me from what he deemed "unnecessary burdens." But this was my fight too. I wasn't going to sit by while the kingdom faced a threat right at our doorstep.

I nodded, sending the guard off with a wave. As soon as he was gone, I turned to Talia. "I need to see what's going on."

Talia's eyes widened. "Charlotte, no. Your father was clear—"

"I know what he said, but I can't just sit here, Talia." I grabbed her hand, my voice urgent. "Please, come with me. I need to understand what's happening. I won't be reckless, I promise."

She hesitated but eventually gave a reluctant nod. "All right. But we're staying in the shadows."

Together, we navigated the winding corridors, slipping past guards who were too preoccupied with the threat outside to notice us. My heart pounded as we reached the entrance to the grand hall and found a small alcove to conceal ourselves in. From here, we could see the doors to the throne room, where my father and his advisors were preparing. The sound of raised voices carried from the front gates, echoing through the halls.

Then I spotted him—Elliot, standing among the rebels, his face a mask of grim determination. The sight of him took my breath away. What was he doing here? I'd known he had connections, sympathies even, but to openly stand with them, to bring them to the castle gates like this?

My mind raced as I tried to piece it together, but before I could make sense of anything, the doors to the castle swung open, and the rebels began filing in. They moved in an orderly line, flanked by the king's guards, who led them down the grand corridor toward the throne room. Their expressions were set, faces drawn tight with purpose, and there was an undeniable power in their unity.

But as they walked closer, I noticed something odd. The movements, the spacing, even the expressions—it felt rehearsed, like an elaborate performance. A flicker of doubt crept in, and I glanced at Talia, whose eyes were narrowed in confusion.