Sold As A Slave, Returned To Be Queen - Chapter 16: Chapter 16

When Charlotte saw Ronan's expression, she couldn't help but let out a cold sneer in her heart.
He wasn't all that skilled, yet carried himself like some proud, unbending man of principle. In truth, he was just loud on the outside and weak on the inside—more bark than bite.
And yet somehow, this man had been invited to treat Rosalie of the esteemed General's household? Now Rosalie was seriously ill, and the Hastings family barely seemed to care.
Were they all blind? Or had every bit of their attention and affection been poured into Brielle alone?
Charlotte truly didn't understand. She'd been tied to the Hastings family for over a decade—true, there was no blood relation, but they'd cut her off without hesitation. Fine, she could accept that. But Rosalie was Edward's own mother, Oliver's own grandmother.
'How could they be so utterly heartless?' she wondered.
"Ronan, Charlotte meant no harm. She was simply curious, that's all," Rosalie quickly stepped in, smoothing things over and giving Ronan a graceful way out. "She had no intention of offending you."
Seeing Rosalie offer him a way down, and not wanting to lose a lucrative patient, Ronan took the out, albeit reluctantly. His expression still brimmed with discontent, as though he were being forced to swallow his pride.
"My apologies if I overstepped," Charlotte said, bowing her head slightly. "I hope you can forgive me, Ronan."
She knew now wasn't the time to confront him head-on. Better to let him have his little tantrum and just get the examination over with.
"It's not my place to say," Ronan muttered coldly as he closed up his medicine case, "but it'd be best if Lady Charlotte didn't assume she understood medicine just because she's picked up a few scraps here and there. It might cause problems later."
He gave a sharp snort.
It was clearly a jab—a reminder that she was an outsider, a low-born girl with no right to question a doctor personally invited by the Hastings family.
Even Rosalie felt a flicker of displeasure at that. After having the servants escort Ronan out, she quickly took Charlotte's hand and comforted her. "Charlotte, Ronan may speak harshly, but his medical skills are solid."
Charlotte truly wanted to help care for Rosalie. But if she spoke too rashly now, even Rosalie wouldn't easily believe that a young girl like her had any real knowledge of medicine.
This wasn't something that could be rushed.
"Grandmother, I was only speaking casually," she said gently. "Back when I was in the palace, I overheard some health remedies the ladies often used. If you trust me, perhaps you could try one or two?"
Her eyes held quiet hope. Though Rosalie was still a little doubtful, she didn't reject her and nodded in agreement.
Charlotte had suffered so much in that dreadful place, and yet she still thought of Rosalie. 'With not many days left to live anyway, why not let her show a bit of filial piety?' Rosalie thought.
She might not be able to chase away the incompetent physician, but at least Charlotte now had a chance to deliver her own remedies. And given time, she was confident Rosalie's health would slowly improve.
What she hadn't expected was that, right after settling Rosalie down to rest and returning to her own quarters, she'd find two uninvited guests already waiting for her.
Brielle looked nervous, twisting a silk handkerchief between her fingers. When she saw Charlotte enter, she quickly put on a sweet, ingratiating smile and stepped forward. "Charlotte, you're back. Mother and I have been waiting for you."
Charlotte felt nothing in particular toward Brielle.
She'd lived a life of luxury for over a decade—at Brielle's expense. But she'd paid it back, three years over, buried in suffering and disgrace.
They owed each other nothing now. Charlotte simply said, "Sorry for keeping you waiting. It's my fault."
At Charlotte's words, Brielle's eyes instantly welled with tears. She pressed the handkerchief to her chest as if she'd just been deeply wounded, like Charlotte had said something unbearably cruel.
"Charlotte… are you still holding a grudge against me? Why are you being so distant…? I've always seen you as my real sister."
"Brielle, Charlotte didn't mean it that way," Valeria cut in quickly. "She's just not used to things yet—she's only just returned from the Red Pavilion."
Seeing Brielle on the verge of tears, Valeria could no longer sit still. She shot Charlotte a slightly reproachful look, then hurried to comfort Brielle.
She didn't hesitate to bring up the Red Pavilion directly—completely unaware, or perhaps simply uncaring, that the mention tore open Charlotte's wounds and threw her dignity to the ground to be trampled.
But Charlotte felt nothing now. Just cold, unfeeling numbness.
What a joke. These people had spent over a decade warming her heart, making her believe she belonged. And yet, in just a few short years—or even just a few days—they had turned her heart to stone.
"Charlotte," Valeria said, now with a faint edge of blame in her voice, "must you hurt Brielle like this? Brielle came here today to invite you to next month's party. She hoped it might help ease you back into Aurenshire's noble circles. She's always thinking of you."
'A party?'
Charlotte blinked, momentarily thrown. She couldn't quite figure out what game this mother-daughter duo was playing.
They claimed it was for her sake—but she wasn't buying it.
Her position now was awkward at best. She was like a phoenix fallen into the mud—not even as good as a barnyard chicken. Never mind the so-called friends from her former life; most wouldn't even spare her a glance now. And as for those noblewomen who had always been hostile—like Adalyn—they would leap at the chance to kick her while she was down.
Attend a party?
It would be just like her coming-of-age ceremony all over again—another round of humiliation in front of everyone.
"I appreciate your kind arrangements," Charlotte replied evenly, "but someone of my lowly station has no place at a gathering like that."
"I know I made mistakes at your coming-of-age ceremony," Brielle said softly, her voice trembling with emotion. "I hurt you, and I'm truly sorry. But I really do want things to go back to the way they were… If you're willing, I'll give everything back to you. I've never cared about riches or titles…"
As she spoke, a tear rolled gently down her cheek. With her delicate, swaying posture, she looked like she might collapse at any moment—enough to melt even the hardest heart. Valeria's eyes were already red, as if Charlotte were the unreasonable one, clinging to past glories and resenting her gentle, selfless sister.
By now, Charlotte understood perfectly: if she didn't agree, they wouldn't let this go. And if Brielle cried herself into some kind of breakdown, more people would come pounding on her door, demanding explanations.
"I wouldn't dare go against your wishes," she said flatly. "But if Lady Brielle isn't feeling well, it's best she gets some rest."
"Charlotte…"
Brielle bit her pale lip, still wanting to say more, but under Charlotte's cold, unyielding gaze, she finally left—reluctant and humiliated.
Before leaving, Valeria cast one last glance at Charlotte. Her brow creased slightly, and in her heart, she added another mark of disapproval.
Once the two of them were gone, the room fell into complete silence. Outside, only the soft rustle of leaves in the corridor broke the stillness. Charlotte's face remained unreadable as she quietly began gathering her things.
She couldn't stay at Rosalie's place for long. If she did, the rest of the Hastings family would only use it as an excuse to meddle further—and sooner or later, Rosalie would be dragged into the mess too.
The silence in the room lingered… until it was broken by the sharp caw of a crow outside the window.