Oh Gods, he knew. The slight hitch in her steps had given her away, and Charlie wanted nothing more than to hide her face and shrivel up and die. Gods. "Dad!" she cried, uncharacteristically, in spite of his continuation. Oh gods. Gods, he wasn't stopping. Everything he was rattling off was something she already knew--aside from the matches? Why was her aunt making matches for her? Surely it couldn't be because she was just named heir? Only a day had passed! And gods, was he seriously considering speaking to Kurai over one night?
Her cheeks burned beneath her mask as tears of humiliation and shame welled in her eyes. Tears which she forced away with a blink.
Charlie's chest tightened at the thought of having her entire life planned out for her. Her marriage, her role in life--and it was laughable how her father spoke of wanting her to be free. She bit back the icy laugh that threatened to tear itself from her throat. If you wanted my freedom you should never have let me been born! the voice in the back of her mind was screaming. Charlie herself wanted to scream at her father for letting his mask drop. Why now? Why now of all times did he decide to allow her to see that he cared, even if only a little?
And talk of her mother was so foreign to her, but he never quite finished the word. He always stopped himself for some reason. No one would ever speak of her, and Charlie never quite knew why.
"You can't just do that," she snapped back once he'd finished talking. "You can't just act like you care about me and my well-being while fully knowing Auntie has never considered having children! Surely all of this must have crossed your mind at some point!" Everything was so hard to swallow. How much of it was lies? How much was truth? Everything in their kingdom was built on strategy, and lies were just another part of it. She even found herself doubting her father's seemingly genuine expression. It was all so unnerving, and Charlie knew she had to remain on her guard--especially against herself. Her chest was so tight, her heart threatening to tear itself free of her ribs and burst free.
She pinched the bridge of her nose and struggled to breathe in, the result being a very raspy breath. "There's no need to talk about Kurai or any other men I've slept with, but let me make one thing perfectly clear, Father," the words left her tongue more icy than she'd intended, but the demoness was tired, her anxiety palpable, "I'm quite capable of choosing a proper partner for myself. Tell Auntie that if I fail to find a suitable match within a year or so, then she can pair me up with whatever idiot noble thinks he's even remotely capable of handling me." The false confidence came so easily to her now, though her constricting chest was an ever constant reminder that Charlie was not, and likely would never be, okay. "If I'm to be heir now--which I am, thanks to Lord Vaerath--I should be trusted with my own choice of mate."
Before she could stop herself, Charlie spat bitterly, "Or perhaps I'll continue on the family tradition and raise a daughter on my own without a husband."
Without another word, and only the slightest twinge of guilt (which she was quick to ignore), Charlie folded her arms across her chest and shook her head. It was time to begin training the family magic, it seemed. Too bad she had little to no magic. Seemed like continuing to disappoint her father would be today's trend after all. She took a seat where her father had gestured to, and crossed her legs beneath her. It was do or die time, it seemed.
Maybe she'd be lucky and death would come calling.
Her cheeks burned beneath her mask as tears of humiliation and shame welled in her eyes. Tears which she forced away with a blink.
Charlie's chest tightened at the thought of having her entire life planned out for her. Her marriage, her role in life--and it was laughable how her father spoke of wanting her to be free. She bit back the icy laugh that threatened to tear itself from her throat. If you wanted my freedom you should never have let me been born! the voice in the back of her mind was screaming. Charlie herself wanted to scream at her father for letting his mask drop. Why now? Why now of all times did he decide to allow her to see that he cared, even if only a little?
And talk of her mother was so foreign to her, but he never quite finished the word. He always stopped himself for some reason. No one would ever speak of her, and Charlie never quite knew why.
"You can't just do that," she snapped back once he'd finished talking. "You can't just act like you care about me and my well-being while fully knowing Auntie has never considered having children! Surely all of this must have crossed your mind at some point!" Everything was so hard to swallow. How much of it was lies? How much was truth? Everything in their kingdom was built on strategy, and lies were just another part of it. She even found herself doubting her father's seemingly genuine expression. It was all so unnerving, and Charlie knew she had to remain on her guard--especially against herself. Her chest was so tight, her heart threatening to tear itself free of her ribs and burst free.
She pinched the bridge of her nose and struggled to breathe in, the result being a very raspy breath. "There's no need to talk about Kurai or any other men I've slept with, but let me make one thing perfectly clear, Father," the words left her tongue more icy than she'd intended, but the demoness was tired, her anxiety palpable, "I'm quite capable of choosing a proper partner for myself. Tell Auntie that if I fail to find a suitable match within a year or so, then she can pair me up with whatever idiot noble thinks he's even remotely capable of handling me." The false confidence came so easily to her now, though her constricting chest was an ever constant reminder that Charlie was not, and likely would never be, okay. "If I'm to be heir now--which I am, thanks to Lord Vaerath--I should be trusted with my own choice of mate."
Before she could stop herself, Charlie spat bitterly, "Or perhaps I'll continue on the family tradition and raise a daughter on my own without a husband."
Without another word, and only the slightest twinge of guilt (which she was quick to ignore), Charlie folded her arms across her chest and shook her head. It was time to begin training the family magic, it seemed. Too bad she had little to no magic. Seemed like continuing to disappoint her father would be today's trend after all. She took a seat where her father had gestured to, and crossed her legs beneath her. It was do or die time, it seemed.
Maybe she'd be lucky and death would come calling.
