6.62 – Charlotte
This was a disaster, but a containable one. Charlotte knowing of her and Zoey's relationship was many tis less dangerous than their father knowing. The question was, of course, whether she could convince Charlotte to be discreet.
'We need to talk,' Charlotte had said. 'Alone.'
Rosalie glanced at Zoey, who read the request on her face.
"I'll, uh, give you two so privacy, then," she said. "Sorry about … the misunderstanding."
Charlotte eyed her, and Zoey raised her hands in a second silent apology—then tactically retreated from the room, pulling the doors closed as she left.
"Your girlfriend?" Charlotte all but shrilled the mont she was gone.
"I'm not sure why you sound so surprised," Rosalie said calmly. "A relationship is hardly such a strange thing. Elodie had a string of them before ever entering the Fractures, and brought back another in near identical circumstances, didn't she?"
"I'm hardly saying the concept of a girlfriend is shocking," Charlotte growled. "It's you having one."
That might have sounded insulting in another context, but Rosalie knew what Charlotte ant. She wasn't implying Rosalie was sohow incapable of attracting soone's attention, just that her returning it was … out of character.
"I wouldn't have expected it either," Rosalie admitted. "But the past several weeks have been filled with all sorts of surprises." She shrugged. "I wasn't interested in romance, but Zoey made herself an exception." She couldn't quite stifle the smile that admittance put on her lips.
"You actually like her," Charlotte said incredulously.
"I would have thought the word girlfriend made that clear."
"You know what I an."
She did. Rosalie's interest in Zoey wasn't mild or passing. She couldn't even exchange a few short sentences with Charlotte without making that obvious. Rosalie's cheeks colored, but she didn't back down.
"Yes. I do like her."
Charlotte stared. "Oh, gods," she groaned, rubbing her forehead. "How did Father react?" A snort made it clear she suspected a debacle at best.
"Well," Rosalie said. "That's the thing."
Charlotte gave her a curious look.
"He doesn't know," Rosalie said plainly.
And so, Charlotte locked an incredulous gaze on her for the second reason that day. "Excuse ?"
"I may have deliberately downplayed the extent of my relationship with her," Rosalie said. "And by downplay, I an neglected to ntion entirely. But," she said quickly, "for more reasons than just not wanting to deal with his … reaction. There are extenuating circumstances."
"Extenuating circumstances," Charlotte flatly repeated.
"Zoey is … soone who will be important in the following months and years. And I didn't want him to think my judgnt was compromised when it ca to her."
"And is it?" Charlotte asked.
Rosalie hesitated. "Yes and no."
"That's not the sort of question that can be answered with 'yes and no,' Charlotte said. "That ans the answer is yes."
Rosalie wasn't sure she could argue against that. It wasn't worth attempting.
"Regardless," she said. "I was hoping he wouldn't find out." She t Charlotte's gaze evenly, the request implicit.
Charlotte narrowed her eyes, and Rosalie held her breath.
Her relationship with Charlotte had always been complicated. She was two years Rosalie's elder, and yet Rosalie held the title of heiress, and not by Charlotte's own relinquishnt of the title like with Elodie. Charlotte had wanted to lead the guild one day. Had been heiress herself, until Rosalie started to surpass her.
Their eldest sister, Elodie, could have kept the title had she wanted, but while Elodie was every bit the prodigy Rosalie was, she had dismissed all responsibility. That she'd so bullheadedly resisted Father's displeasure even at that young of an age was sowhat incredible; Father hadn't been pleased about a d'Celestin shirking her duty. But Elodie had been even less pleased to be forced into sothing she didn't want to do.
So far as Rosalie understood it, Father had only relented because he was at risk of losing Elodie's faithfulness entirely. And while he would have preferred an heiress of such skill, losing a wayfarer who would one day perhaps be his match would be catastrophic to the guild.
Eventually, he had gotten Rosalie as a third daughter, solving his dilemma, and his and Elodie's relationship had settled; they were even on good terms these days, at least compared to the rockiness Rosalie had seen growing up.
Charlotte, however, was not the free spirit of their eldest sister, and much closer to Rosalie in temperant. But Father was a pragmatist, and when he had seen Rosalie handling a spear better at twelve than Charlotte at fourteen, she had been cast aside. It had led to a bitter rivalry between them, one that had cooled in recent years but which Rosalie knew was not fully gone; Charlotte saw her as competition.
Which was the source of her concern. Had it been Elodie that Zoey had so tragically mistaken for her—not that Elodie could be, being half a foot taller and with a much lither build—then Rosalie would feel fairly confident that Elodie would indulge her plea for secrecy. She might have agreed by simple rit of keeping sothing from their father. She was on better terms with him, but she had a habit of butting heads by nature.
Charlotte, though? Rosalie wasn't sure what she would do.
The mont stretched on forever, and Rosalie waited tensely for her sister to respond.
"Okay," Charlotte finally said. "It's between the two of us. As sisters."
Rosalie released the breath she'd been holding. She wasn't sure she one hundred percent trusted the promise, but she also doubted Charlotte would lie to her face.
"But I want an explanation," Charlotte said. "How did you et this woman, anyway?"
Rosalie carefully fought the blush that threatened to rise up. It was unfortunate that any ti soone asked her that question, an image of being smashed into a tiny coffin with a naked Zoey was thrust into her mind.
"Inside a shard, strangely enough," Rosalie said, impressed at the evenness of her tone.
Charlotte tilted her head. "Inside a shard? Not before?"
"I entered alone, and yet there she was," Rosalie confird. "It's the least of strange circumstances surrounding her."
"A person of importance, in the years to co," Charlotte echoed.
"I'll explain all of that, but another ti," Rosalie said. "Father could as well. The short of it is that Zoey has an unusual and extrely powerful class. Even her inexplicable arrival into that shard was likely not a coincidence."
"Sounds … interesting." Her eyes narrowed. "And suspicious."
"It's not like that. I promise." Rosalie sighed. "Full explanation later, as I said. Just not right now."
Charlotte humd, accepting that. She glanced toward the doorway Zoey had left through, then turned back and raised an eyebrow.
"So," she said, too casually. "That's your type, then?"
Rosalie's cheeks instantly started to darken, which she recognized as a mistake. Never show weakness. Her and Charlotte's relationship might have grown milder over the years, but they were long rivals. Less bitterly, these days, but still competitive. Charlotte saw an opening and pounced the way any predator would.
A grin curled on her lips. "Tall and curvy?" Charlotte continued. "Honestly, I didn't imagine you had a type, but I guess that makes sense. That woman would be anyone's type. Have you two kissed?"
The question was obviously ant to tease, expecting an answer of 'of course not!', but Rosalie's reddening blush gave her answer away sure as words could.
Charlotte's eyes widened. "Well, you are calling each other girlfriends," she said. "I would've thought you'd take things slower, though."
The circumstances of that first shard had moved things along faster than any natural thod could. And Rosalie didn't an that in a negative sense. That she'd had her walls broken down so thoroughly and abruptly had been a blessing in disguise. Had opened up so … very enjoyable outlets for her, which she might not have enjoyed for months or even years, otherwise.
"But you haven't, you know?" Charlotte asked, curious. Her eyes went ever wider at what she saw on Rosalie's face. "You two—? Already?"
"How'd your shard go?" Rosalie blurted out. "It was a long one, wasn't it? Must've been an expedition."
Charlotte gaped, having gotten much more information from her teasing than she had expected. Rosalie was unfortunately unprepared to handle being prodded at over her first relationship by her sister. The heat on her face simply wouldn't go down, despite her best efforts to compose herself.
"Well," Charlotte said, also flustered now. She hadn't intended to actually pry into Rosalie's sex life, because she hadn't thought there was a sex life. "You work fast." She glanced again toward the door Zoey had left through, then faced back and raised an eyebrow. "I guess I can't bla you. She's … pretty."
If they hadn't been sisters, and Zoey her girlfriend, Rosalie knew pretty wasn't the word Charlotte would have used. Rosalie cleared her throat. "She's kind," she said. "And thoughtful. She's not like us at all."
"Us?"
"Wayfarers, or nobility, or anything like that, I an," Rosalie said.
"She's a commoner?"
"Yes." Rosalie tensed as she waited for Charlotte's reaction. Thankfully, she only seed thoughtful—and a bit surprised, but that was only expected.
"That also makes sense, I suppose," Charlotte said. "In a strange sort of way. You've always been … dedicated." Obsessed was the word she ant. "Soone outside of that sphere would have its appeal, if simply for the novelty." She shrugged. "Would've expected it to go the other way though. For you to find soone as obsessed with wayfaring as you are. You're full of surprises, today."
Rosalie wasn't sure whether that was a complint or not—probably just an observation.
"Forget my shard, though," Charlotte said. "Let's hear about what yours were like." The interest in her eyes shifted, growing a little sharper. "Spent enough ti away, didn't you? Bet you made so serious progress."
Rosalie stopped herself from grimacing. To all others, she had been proud to announce her absurd accomplishnt of already having hit fourth advancent. To Charlotte, though, especially after she had shown such grace in agreeing to keep Rosalie's secret, an almost visceral urge to lie bubbled up, as nonsensical and untenable as a lie would be. Charlotte herself was only fifth advancent, an extrely respectable accomplishnt for two years in the Fractures, and even what most would consider prodigious—but nothing like what Rosalie had done.
Internally, she sighed. She just hoped Charlotte didn't take this too badly.
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