Under the Maltese Skies

[Omi]

The after effects of the outbound comm were still resonating with Charlotte, her attention only half on Enma herself as her mind continued to race. The vicious gaze shot her way was pretty much missed as the princess's own stare slipped over to the window instead, full of concern for her immediate future. Until the handheld device buzzed again with news directly from Claire, she knew the nausea in her abdomen would only continue to build.

"Huh?" she said eventually, her reverie interrupted by the first burst of sarcasm that came winding her way. The blatant hostility had been entirely unexpected, and it took her a few seconds to process why exactly Enma might be so annoyed at her all of a sudden. The implication that she should be actively pushing back against the Dona's seeming generosity and lenience took her a little by surprise -- as if this was all some sort of test of her mettle. It annoyed her more than it did anything else, stoking a fear that had all but disappeared in the wake of this new concern about Claire; the idea that this might all be some sort of grand game on Loyola's part, with her as an unwitting pawn in the middle of it. Fear and anger were never a combination that worked well for Charlotte, and now was no exception.

"I'm worried about my sister," she spat, whirling on Enma with an incensed expression. "I couldn't care less about your personal comings-and-goings -- the internal politicking of this rock is never something I've cared to try to have a stake in -- so no, you're right. I didn't bother taking my time to sift through your extensive library of social media. If that makes me some kind of disappointment to you, then so be it."

Her fury began to quell itself just after reaching its peak, another note of caution inserting itself back into her demeanour. The Maltese woman was as changeable as the Orléans springtime weather; for all this talk of behaving like a princess, one burst of temerity too much and she could find herself regretting it. Her charisma was all the power she had here -- everything else, her bloodline included, only made her more valuable as glorified property rather than lending her any air of true authority.

"I am of course very grateful for your manner of treating me so far," came Charlotte's eventual acquiescence. "I'm quite certain you don't plan on beheading me in the immediate future." The smile she gave just afterwards was brief, but somehow managed not to look too forced.

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