The palace did not erupt after the reception. It softened instead, settling into something quieter and far more dangerous. Charlotte noticed it the following morning, not in open confrontation but in absence. Conversations paused when she approached. Servants lowered their voices. Doors closed a little too carefully.
Rumors did not announce themselves. They drifted.
Charlotte continued her duties without change, moving through corridors, attending the Queen when summoned, assisting where required. She kept her posture composed, her expression neutral, but she felt the shift with every step. She had become a subject, not of command, but of curiosity.
Princess Margaret ensured it.
She spoke gently, laughing often, never directly accusing. A comment here about servants who overreached. A question there about unusual favor. Nothing could be challenged outright. Everything could be repeated.
Princess Clara listened but did not join. Princess Anne remained distant. Princess Eleanor listened most of all.
Lady Ashby observed.
Charlotte encountered her again near the inner gardens, where the air was cooler and fewer people lingered. Lady Ashby greeted her politely, as though they were nothing more than passing acquaintances.
"You are being discussed," Lady Ashby said.
Charlotte did not pretend otherwise. "I assumed as much."
Lady Ashby studied her. "Assumptions can be useful," she said. "So can preparation."
"I am prepared to serve," Charlotte replied.
Lady Ashby smiled faintly. "That answer will not satisfy everyone."
"I do not intend it to."
Lady Ashby inclined her head. "Wise."
Their conversation ended there, but Charlotte felt the weight of it linger.
By afternoon, Princess Margaret's influence had taken clearer shape. Charlotte was redirected twice from her usual tasks. Once told she was not needed. Once informed that her presence would be inconvenient. Each time, the instruction was polite. Each time, it came from a different mouth.
Isolation, carefully applied.
Prince Adrien noticed.
He found Charlotte near the west corridor as she adjusted a tray she had not been allowed to deliver. "You were reassigned," he said.
"Yes," Charlotte replied.
"Twice."
"Yes."
Adrien exhaled slowly. "This cannot continue."
"It will," Charlotte said. "Until it is answered."
Adrien frowned. "Answered how?"
Charlotte met his gaze. "That is what they want to see."
Later that day, Adrien was summoned privately. He returned quieter than before.
"The council has concerns," he said that evening. "About perception."
Charlotte nodded. "They always do."
"I was advised," Adrien continued, "to distance myself."
Charlotte's expression did not change. "And will you?"
Adrien hesitated. "I was told that continued association could complicate matters."
"That is not an answer," Charlotte said.
Adrien looked away briefly. "I do not intend to abandon what is right."
Charlotte studied him. "Intentions will not protect either of us."
That night, Charlotte was called to the Queen's chamber.
The Queen stood by the window, hands clasped behind her back. She did not turn immediately.
"You are being pressured," the Queen said.
"Yes, Your Majesty."
"You are being isolated."
"Yes."
The Queen turned. "Princess Margaret believes discomfort will break you."
"I am not broken," Charlotte said.
"I know," the Queen replied. "But endurance alone is not enough."
Charlotte waited.
"There is a task," the Queen continued. "Difficult. Public enough to draw attention. Subtle enough to invite failure."
Charlotte met her gaze. "You wish to see how I stand."
"I wish to see how they respond," the Queen said. "To you standing."
Charlotte inclined her head. "I will do as commanded."
The Queen studied her for a moment longer. "Be aware," she said. "This task will remove my immediate shelter."
"I understand."
When Charlotte left the chamber, the palace felt narrower. She sensed eyes in places that had once been indifferent.
Elsewhere, Princess Eleanor sat with Lady Ashby over tea.
"She does not react," Eleanor said.
"She is careful," Lady Ashby replied.
"Or trained," Eleanor said.
Lady Ashby met her gaze. "Some training is older than courts."
Eleanor smiled slightly. "Then she is more interesting than I thought."
Princess Margaret entered later, her expression sharp with impatience.
"She still stands," Margaret said. "Even now."
"She will," Eleanor replied. "Until someone forces her to choose."
Margaret's smile returned. "Then let us help her."
By nightfall, Charlotte stood alone near the servants' balcony, the city lights distant beyond the walls. She felt the weight of what approached, not as fear but as clarity.
They were not trying to remove her.
They were trying to define her.
Behind her, footsteps approached.
"Be careful," Lady Ashby said softly.
Charlotte turned. "Careful of whom?"
Lady Ashby smiled. "Everyone."
When Charlotte was alone again, she understood what the Queen had set in motion.
This was no longer about survival.
It was about position.
And whatever choice came next would not be forgiven easily.