Charlotte stepped down from the carriage as it arrived at the grand estate, and was met by a maid who escorted her towards the dwelling. Her grandmother's guards followed at a respectful distance, but stood outside with the other young ladies' sentinels upon entrance to the parlor, for she had been summoned to the tea party at Roberta Scott's domicile. As per her grandmother's word, Roberta reigned as the most reputed belle amidst their socialite cosmos, a status not even Rogelia, despite being the crown prince's fiancee, had managed to secure. Of course, Rogelia was present and upon Charlotte's arrival, her lips pursed in disdain, quickly replaced by a smirk tinged with arrogance.
"Lady Scott is quite gracious to invite a commoner," Rogelia remarked mockingly.
Rogelia's comment provoked laughter among the other girls, all but Roberta, who cast a disapproving glance their way.
"If Lady Leroux finds any discomfort, she is free to leave. Furthermore, concerning status, Lady Charlotte stands above yours," asserted Roberta.
"What folly! Dismissed from her own household for unruly conduct, regardless of the Baroness Leroux's guardianship, she bears no title," Rogelia retorted.
The other girls echoed Rogelia's sentiments, however, Charlotte seemed to pay them no heed.
"Lady Scott, do not stoop to their level. You possess far superior breeding than that of a concubine's offspring," Charlotte responded with a mocking smile.
"Perhaps you should enlighten her on who you truly are," Roberta suggested.
Charlotte regarded Roberta with interest. It seemed the young lady had done her research, not that Charlotte cared to flaunt her status unnecessarily.
"It appears you've looked into my background, but worry not, there is no need to vaunt my lineage."
"Indeed, I prefer to be informed about my acquaintances. And I am aware of the current Marquesses of Leroux," Roberta said, fixing Rogelia with a steady gaze.
Rogelia clenched her fists in her dress, evidently vexed but chose to remain silent. Meanwhile, Roberta ushered Charlotte to join a group of girls she got on well with.
"I fail to comprehend why Lady Leroux continues to be invited; she and her clique are nothing but a nuisance," a brunette expressed with displeasure.
"My mother insists I include her on the grounds of her engagement to the prince," complained Roberta.
"Though the prince hardly seems enamored with her," Charlotte chimed in.
The girls unanimously agreed, having noticed the prince always looked weary during his obligated appearances with her.
"I once thought Lady Scott might become his chosen," conjectured a dark-haired young lady.
"Oh, not at all, I haven't the slightest desire to join the royal fold, and besides, my betrothed is a kind soul. Our ranks may not match, but we have known each other since childhood and are quite content," Roberta divulged.
"A childhood romance, how utterly romantic; worry not, you two shall forge a path to happiness," Charlotte declared with a congenial smile.
She was, after all, aware of Roberta's destiny; having been a minor character referenced multiple times within the story, it was revealed that she would ultimately wed her childhood friend, leading to their felicity. Their conversation continued over the fine assortment of confections until the late afternoon when the doors opened and in walked a blond youth of refined bearing. Sigrid, his arrival caused a stir among the ladies, Rogelia included. Some even speculated he might outshine Prince Hugo in appeal, though they lamented Sigrid's lot as a mere duke. Advancing toward Charlotte's table, Sigrid extended his hand.
"Lady Charlotte, I have come for you, I trust it's not an inconvenience," Sigrid offered with a warm smile.
"There was no need to trouble yourself, Duke. My guards are with me," she said, accepting his hand to rise.
Murmurings of envy rippled among the ladies, stirring annoyance within Charlotte at the implied conjectures of a betrothal to Sigrid.
"Lady Scott, it has been a privilege attending your gathering, and I look forward to hosting my own shortly – an event you shall all be welcomed at, Lady Leroux included."
"And where might this affair take place? In a pasture or a barnyard?" Rogelia quipped.
Laughter ensued, accompanying Rogelia's jest.
"No, within the gardens of the Magic Tower, you see. Though termed a 'tower', it's more a castle than anything else," Charlotte corrected with poise.
This revelation left the company astonished; the Magic Tower was a formidable castle situated in the kingdom's southern region, its vast territory rivalling that of the capital itself. Known for its exquisite gardens, the place was under such a divine covenant that not even the king could enter without an invitation, its mages wielding greater authority than any noble.
"Nonsense, that tower is beyond reach," Rogelia mocked.
Yet Roberta seemed less taken aback.
"If you doubt my words, you shall find the invitation at your door ere long. Now, if you'll excuse me."
Charlotte departed the salon alongside Sigrid, leaving a vexed Rogelia in her wake. Back at home, Rogelia reported the entire sequence to Nidia.
"How preposterous, her at the Magic Tower, don't fret over such trifles, it's patent she's spinning tales," Nidia dismissed with a scoff.
"I know, mother, but her growing affinity with Lady Scott and the Duke's apparent patronage irks me..." Rogelia fumed.
"For what reason linger on this, child? He may be a duke, but you are betrothed to the second prince – and should the heir persist in his debauched ways, in time, you shall be queen," Nidia articulated with a growing excitement.
At the palace, the queen resided in her office when there came a knock, followed by an elegantly dressed gentleman entering and proffering a folder to her. He was one of the royal secretaries. She perused the contents: a petite portrait of Charlotte alongside several papers left her staggered.
"Is this veritably accurate? This information?" the queen gasped in disbelief.
The document affirmed that Charlotte Leroux had become the reigning figure of the Magic Tower, the title bequeathed by the retiring Grand Mage who, three years prior, named Charlotte his heir due to her profound magical aptitude. It was also noted she possessed the rare and formidable dark magic. Fearing the implications, the queen slammed her fist on the desk. If Charlotte grew close to Sigrid, and their union came to pass, Sigrid would command influence surpassing the prince himself, a threat to every aspirant heir, Hugo or Peter alike.
"No, I cannot allow this to transpire..."
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