

Time:Morning
Location: Church of Sorian --> The Royal Curd
Attire: Hair Style, Dress
Interaction:@FunnyGuy Lorenzo
"Hey King! We're here for the cheese!"
As the peasants filled the seats around them, her attention shifted from her journal to the newcomers as their shout about cheese sliced through the solemn atmosphere of the church. Her pen paused above the page as she watched King Edin's barely controlled annoyance.
The absolute nerve of this man!
Edin's smile might have fooled the newcomers, but Charlotte saw right through it, and boy was she suddenly much more interested in the ceremony. The directness of their approach was refreshing amidst the ceremony's idiocy. She looked around as peasants began filling the back rows, surrounding her and Lorenzo rather quickly. Her smirk deepened as King Edin made no effort whatsoever to try to conceal himself as he signaled the guards to close the door.
Placing her pen down, she turned to fully face the peasant woman who had unwittingly found a seat next to her.
The woman's eyes widened in recognition, and she began to stammer an apology, obviously flustered by her proximity to nobility.
"Oh. You're the Lady Charlotte Vikena... Oh no... And next to you is the Duke. I'm so sorry. I didn't expect that you'd be seated back here, I hope you—"
Charlotte gently enveloped the woman's hand in both of hers, offering a comforting squeeze to halt her worried rambling. With a soft, reassuring smile, she whispered, "...It’s lovely to have you sit beside me."
The peasant woman’s expression softened, visibly relieved by Charlotte's kindness. She nodded gratefully, her initial tension easing into a more comfortable demeanor. Just then, King Edin’s voice resonated through the church as he proudly announced the unveiling of a new portrait.
As the draped canvas was revealed, showcasing the defaced image of the king, Charlotte couldn’t suppress her surprise. She stood up to get a better view, and around her, the peasants were already bursting into hushed, yet unrestrained laughter. The hastily painted mustache and horns on King Edin’s portrait were so absurdly out of place that Charlotte couldn't help but let out a chuckle. She quickly covered her mouth with both hands, trying to compose herself. When King Edin attempted to pass off the defacement as an intentional piece of creative expression, the situation became even more ludicrous, and Charlotte bit her lip hard to stifle her laughter.
Thankfully, the atmosphere quickly shifted as the orchestra and choir launched into an extravagantly dramatic piece, an attempt to restore some dignity to the event. There were always those who were fooled, but Charlotte knew that he could only fool so many with this much absurdity. She knew that these ceremonies usually dragged on for hours, yet today's spectacle seemed doomed to a brisk conclusion, all thanks to a mustache on a portrait.
A giggle escaped her again, and she politely covered her mouth, whispering apologetically to the peasant woman beside her, "I'm sorry. This is too funny."
The woman stared at her alarm at the sudden fit of giggling, but an expression of amusement slowly crossed her face.
As the church slowly emptied with people eager for the free food at The Royal Curd, she exhaled deeply. She slipped her journal into her shoulder bag and lifted her head, ready to exchange a glance with Lorenzo. Instead, her gaze halted on a scene unfolding before her that seemed completely out of place.
At first, it appeared almost normal, the sight of a man entering the church with his child, but the harsh grip on the boy's wrist and the stern, urgent pace down the aisle struck her as odd. The church lights dimmed suddenly, as if clouds had swept over the sun, but it was more than that—the entire atmosphere of the church shifted. Her eyes darted toward the windows, observing the night sky behind the stained glass with confusion.
She looked back at the man, his features harsh and drawn by a severe expression, as he dragged the little boy along. The boy’s features, blurred at first, came into sharper focus, and something about him tugged at her memory. He looked frightened and confused, struggling against the man’s grip.
"I... Lorenzo... I'll meet you outside. I'm going to see if everything is okay." Charlotte heard her own voice as it echoed strangely in the now somber church.
The man paid no heed to anything around him, his lips set in a grim line, muttering fervent, disjointed prayers. As he moved he shouted at the child, his voice rising, "Pray, boy, pray! Pray to be cleansed of the evil that taints your soul!" He continued to drag the young boy by the wrist, heading towards a small, dimly lit room off to the side of the church—where parishioners often sought counsel in private.
Charlotte moved without thinking, her feet carrying her forward to intervene. As she approached the room, the door was slightly ajar, allowing her to see the man pushing the boy inside roughly. Without hesitation, Charlotte pushed the door open and stepped into the dimly lit room. Inside, the man was scolding the boy, his voice a harsh whisper that echoed slightly in the confined space.
"There is nothing good about you." the man hissed, his back to Charlotte. "In fact, you are nothing. A blight upon our family, drawn to the darkness like a moth to flame. You must pray! Pray for redemption, for only the Gods can cleanse the vile taint from your soul!"
The boy was cornered against the cold wall, his small face streaked with tears and dirt, his body shaking. His brown eyes, wide and filled with a haunting fear, met Charlotte’s for a fleeting second. His voice trembled as he attempted to recite the prayers his father demanded, but fear choked his words, turning them into barely audible whispers.
Charlotte’s heart clenched at the sight as she stepped forward, "Stop! You can't treat him like this!" she exclaimed, her voice firm, but her words seemed to pass unheard as if she was nothing more than a wisp of air.
Not satisfied with the boy's faltering words, the father's wrath escalated. "Words are not enough!" he bellowed. Grabbing him by the shoulders, he shook him violently, as if trying to expel the darkness he believed lurked within. "You must feel the penance in your bones!"
She reached out immediately, her hands passing through the figures as though they were nothing more than ghosts.
The father then pushed at the boy's back. "Kneel!" His voice thundered as he threw a handful of coarse salt onto the hard, cold stone floor. The boy knelt, his small frame shaking as the sharp crystals bit into his tender skin, drawing out a pained cry from the boy.
"The gods demand your suffering for your wickedness." the father insisted, the fanaticism vivid in his tone. The intensity in the crazed man's eyes made Charlotte's stomach churn; she stumbled back, her hands flying to cover her face.
As the boy knelt, sobbing and praying, the dreadful sound of a leather strap striking his back filled the air, Her eyes widened in shock and her teeth clenched.
"Lady Vikena...?" A voice reached her ears, but it took the man asking once more for her to respond. She lifted her head from her hands and found herself staring at one of the church attendants as he placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. "Are you alright?"
Blinking away the remnants of the vision, Charlotte found herself back in the brightly lit room. The figures of the boy and his father had vanished, leaving her alone with the attendant. She took a shuddering breath, her gaze lingering on the empty space. "Yes... I'm fine." she managed, her voice barely above a whisper. From the look in his eyes, she could tell her words had been heard out loud when she had exclaimed prior. Stumbling back toward the door, Charlotte excused herself,"I'm fine. I must go."
With that, she found herself joining Lorenzo once more, and the two of them made their way to the Royal Curd, which wasn't far at all luckily. Once seated at a small table in the event room, Charlotte made an effort to hide how shaken she was visibly, even trying to focus on how absurdly yellow everything was. However, she was unsuccessful.
...I suppose maybe I am cursed then.