Sold As A Slave, Returned To Be Queen - Chapter 11: Chapter 11

'No… no, it couldn't be her. How could it possibly be her?
'Charlotte? What is she doing here?
'Wait—did she… hear everything I just said?'
A rush of shame surged through Oliver, mixed with emotions he couldn't even name. It felt like something inside him had been violently ripped open.
"Oliver…"
Just as he stood frozen in place, Brielle's soft voice snapped him back to his senses.
He glanced at the fragile, tear-streaked Brielle beside him, and those chaotic emotions quickly faded away.
Right. He hadn't done anything wrong.
Charlotte had lived a life that was never meant for her—enjoyed years of comfort in place of Brielle. It was only fair that she paid the price now.
Besides, her name was already tarnished beyond repair. 'How could she possibly compare to Brielle now?' he thought.
The Hastings family agreeing to even acknowledge Charlotte again—that was already more kindness than she deserved.
When he looked up again, the pair of eyes so hauntingly like Charlotte's were already gone.
Oliver didn't dwell on it. With a clear conscience, he took Brielle's hand and walked away from the Gilded Cage.
They were gone, but Maisie was still seething nearby. If Charlotte hadn't held her back, she would've marched straight over and ripped off Brielle's mask.
"How could he do that? Does he have no heart? Don't men know how much a woman's reputation matters? And he just—!"
Charlotte gave a faint, bitter smile.
"I was never really the Hastings family's daughter. What does my reputation mean to them? And besides, I'm just a woman who came out of the Red Pavilion. I don't have a reputation to protect anymore."
"But still—"
Maisie started to protest, but Charlotte took her hand. Her palm was rough, scarred from years of hardship—but steady and strong.
"Maisie, it's not worth stirring up trouble with the General's household over something like this."
Maisie might be sharp and capable—she had full control over the Gilded Cage—but without a powerful family backing her, getting too close to Charlotte might drag her into danger. If they dug too deep, they might uncover that Charlotte was an escaped courtesan from the Red Pavilion.
Charlotte couldn't bear to see someone who truly cared about her get hurt on her account.
"…Alright, I understand. It's getting late anyway. I'll walk you out. Be careful on your way back. Once the herbs come in, I'll send word."
To avoid drawing attention, neither of them called for an escort. They were careful—every step planned.
Charlotte moved quickly. By the time she got back to the General's estate, her maid Gracie hadn't even noticed she'd been gone for over an hour—she was still outside, dozing off and slacking.
Gracie's laziness worked to Charlotte's advantage, so she didn't bother saying anything. She quietly changed her clothes and slipped into bed.
The next morning, Gracie strolled in with a smug, gloating look on her face. Her voice was shrill as she called out, "Lady Charlotte, General Hastings wants to see you right away."
Charlotte didn't need to ask. It had to be about what happened yesterday. She kept her face calm and walked out of the courtyard as if nothing had happened.
The moment she stepped outside, she spotted Oliver waiting for her.
His expression was tense—clearly worried about Brielle. Charlotte acted as if she hadn't seen him and turned to leave.
Her cold attitude made Oliver instantly furious.
He thought, 'I've been waiting here since early morning, and she still has the nerve to ignore me? Does she really still think of herself as the heiress of the Hastings family?'
"Stop right there!"
He grabbed her by the arm and yanked her back. The grip was so tight that Charlotte winced instinctively.
"What can I do for you, Lord Oliver?"
"Oh? Still pretending?" Oliver let out a cold laugh. "How long are you going to keep up this little act? I'm asking you—what were you doing at Gilded Cage last night?
"Do you even realize what kind of place that is? And you had the nerve to sneak off without telling anyone? Are you trying to drag the whole Hastings family down with you?
"No surprise—you're from the Red Pavilion. Of course you'd be drawn to filthy places like that."
He'd meant to confront Charlotte as soon as he returned to the estate last night. But the shock had triggered another one of Brielle's heart episodes, and he'd had to stay behind to take care of her.
It wasn't until he heard that Edward Hastings had summoned Charlotte for punishment that he rushed over in a fury.
Naturally, Charlotte couldn't admit she'd been to Gilded Cage—not if she wanted to keep her ties to Maisie secret. So she met Oliver's gaze head-on and said clearly, one word at a time.
"I'm not sure what you mean. I was in my room all night. Gracie was stationed at the door the entire time—I couldn't have left even if I wanted to."
"You're lying. Last night I saw—"
He cut himself off mid-sentence. He caught sight of Charlotte's expression—a half-smile, laced with mockery—and the words died in his throat.
Annoyance flared in his chest. He felt as though she'd peeled back his thoughts and exposed them for what they were.
Right. He hadn't actually seen her. Just someone who looked a lot like her.
"I don't know who you saw, Lord Oliver," Charlotte said coolly. "But I suppose to someone like you, I'm no different from the dancers and courtesans you pass by without a second glance."
She bowed and turned to leave. Then, as if suddenly remembering why he'd come, Oliver called after her in a low, sharp voice.
"Brielle had another episode. Watch what you say. If anything happens to her again—don't think I'll let it slide."
He had once said those very words to others, standing up for Charlotte again and again.
Now, he was using them against her.
"So what you're saying, Lord Oliver," Charlotte replied quietly, "is that I should confess to something I didn't do?"
Oliver looked away, unable to meet her eyes—but he didn't deny it.
Charlotte bit back a laugh. What was the point in arguing? She said nothing more and followed the house matron in silence toward the Hastings family's main hall.
The moment she stepped inside, a thunderous voice exploded across the room.
"You ungrateful girl! Get down on your knees! You're a disgrace to this family!
"As if your past in the Red Pavilion wasn't bad enough—now you're sneaking off to places like Gilded Cage?"
Charlotte dropped to her knees and bowed deeply, her forehead nearly touching the floor. "Please, General Hastings, calm your anger. I don't know what I've done to upset you. I beg you—have mercy."
It was pure instinct. Years of surviving in the Red Pavilion had trained her to grovel the moment trouble struck. If she hadn't learned to humble herself to the dirt, she would've never made it out alive.
Valeria, watching from the side, couldn't help but wipe her eyes.
"Please, General Hastings… maybe Charlotte just missed her brother and followed him there. It's been so long since we've seen her—don't be too harsh."
"You're still defending her?" Edward roared. "If she hadn't insisted on getting a closer look at that Holy Grail painting back then, we never would've gotten dragged into that mess!"
The love and gentleness he'd once shown her were gone—replaced with nothing but resentment and disgust.
"She thinks she's the only one who's suffered? I've been walking a tightrope in court for years—all because of her! And it's all thanks to you, spoiling her rotten!"