Chapter 5

"Guards." Edward waved his hand. "Take her home. Tell Richard he has three days to explain himself."

Two guards stepped forward, took Joanne by the arms, and dragged her out.

As the guards dragged Joanne toward the door, she turned and cast one last look at Charlotte.

Her eyes burned with hatred and fury, but beneath it all, there was a flicker of fear she couldn't quite name.

It hit her then. The girl she had raised for ten years had never been the docile creature she'd assumed.

Charlotte sat at the head of the table with her coffee cup steady in her hand and watched Joanne disappear through the doorway. Her expression never changed.

The room fell quiet once everyone had gone.

But Edward hadn't left. He leaned against the doorframe with his arms crossed, watching her. He said, "You planned this."

"Planned what?"

"You sent the evidence out before Joanne even arrived. You let her walk in empty-handed. And then you made her kneel right there in front of you." A trace of amusement crept into his voice. "You wanted to see her on her knees."

Charlotte set down her cup, rose from her chair, and walked over to him. She tilted her chin up to meet his gaze and said, "Prince Edward is right. I planned every bit of it."

He raised an eyebrow.

"The Rivers family owes me far more than this." Her voice was low but steady. "This is only the beginning."

She brushed past him, and the hem of her gown grazed his sleeve, leaving a faint trace of lavender in her wake.

Edward stood where he was and watched her walk away. A slow smile crossed his face. She was getting more interesting by the day.

But what he didn't notice was that the moment Charlotte stepped out of sight, her pace quickened.

She moved swiftly down the corridor, turned into an empty alcove, and pressed her back against the cold stone wall. She closed her eyes. Her hands were shaking, but not from fear.

It was because the instant Joanne had dropped to her knees, what flashed through Charlotte's mind wasn't satisfaction. It was a memory from her past life.

In that life, Joanne had knelt the same way, but before the Dowager Queen, Eleanor. She had wept and begged, "I failed to raise her properly. Whatever she has done, the Rivers family bears no responsibility."

And then they had dragged Charlotte away.

Charlotte drew in a long breath and opened her eyes. She blinked hard and forced the sting of tears back down.

She couldn't afford to go soft. Not in this life. She wouldn't go soft for anyone.

Charlotte noticed something was off about Edward. He kept showing up around her, far more often than was normal.

In her past life, she had been married to him for three months and seen him a grand total of four times.

Twice at family dinners, once when Isabelle framed her, and he stepped in to restore order, which ended with him punishing Charlotte instead, and once at Christmas, when she caught a glimpse of him from across the hall.

This time around, it had been three days, and she had already seen him seven times.

In the morning, she was watering flowers in the courtyard when he strolled past the corridor, stopped, and gave the garden a once-over. "The flowers look nice."

At noon, she was reading in the study when he pushed the door open to fetch something. He glanced at the book in her hands. "Military strategy?"

That evening, she was going over the accounts in her chamber when her maid came in to report that Edward had sent over a bowl of broth.

Charlotte held the bowl and sat there for a long time without moving.

In her past life, she had been banished to the forgotten wing of the estate, so hungry she scraped plaster off the walls. Nobody sent her so much as a cup of cold water back then, let alone broth.

She set the bowl down and didn't touch it.

She couldn't afford to go soft. This time, she had three goals—secure the divorce, stay alive, and build her fortune. Nothing else mattered.