The Golden Cage

[Omi]

Charlotte thought she might punch Enma. Oh, it was tempting - the other woman was goading her, questioning her dignity and daring her to assert herself as an equal. A guest? The word brought an acidic taste to her throat. Maybe if they had brought her to these luxurious chambers right away, she might have considered herself a guest, but her dignity had been all but shredded from the second her own crew had mutinied. It wasn't something she could fix by herself, nor was it something this woman could solve simply by setting her servant up to take the fall or whispering a few honeyed words to smooth things along. No, this was the sort of dishonour that saw worlds razed in the Crown's name. Though they hadn't yet let her set eyes on the cursed place, Charlotte looked forward to seeing their poisoned world burn. No doubt they planned to ransom her, to collect a hefty sum from the Crown in exchange for the Kingdom's heir apparent. Enma was right on that point, at least - Charlotte had no doubt that she would indeed be returning home, but it would be on her own terms.

"I'll stay as I am," she replied. The one thing they had gotten right was her dress - the deep purple shirt and long, black skirt went well together, and were certainly more comfortable to wear than the starchy dress uniforms lined up aboard her liner. Besides, she didn't see much point in playing dress up here - in uniform, she was technically just Commandant DeFrance, her royal blood taking a back seat to her duty to the Kingdom. For this, she had to be a princess. The only things she took from her wardrobe were a nice pair of burgundy shoes and a small fleur-de-lis pin for her lapel. The first she needed anyway - they hadn't dressed her fully - but the pin was a gentle reminder of her status. It was as much for her own benefit as it was for anyone else's, something to give her strength through the rest of the evening.

When she was finished, she turned to face Enma again, her expression carefully schooled. Finally, Charlotte looked something like the princess she was meant to be. Her gaze held Enma's levelly, some steel finally returning to those sharp features of hers. With her composure intact at last, she had a regal presence that no Maltese had seen before. It simply didn't exist in a world without kings, queens, or royalty; it went beyond the nobility's usual affectations and upper-class mannerisms. Even caged, she was still part of Gallia's royal blood, and for the first time she noticed something new about her host. The other woman, somehow, seemed even more unsure than she herself was. It could have been an act, of course, but if it was it was masterfully done. The thought stuck with her longer than she'd intended, and soon Charlotte realised that she'd been staring blankly at her for far too long.

"I'm ready. Lead the way," she said, indicating that Enma could proceed.

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