Moonbound: The Rogue's Second Chance
Chapter 207: AND THAT WOULD BE NONE OF YOUR BUSINESS

Chapter 207: AND THAT WOULD BE NONE OF YOUR BUSINESS

Serena shuddered as the cold water ran over her skin, cutting through the lingering fog in her mind. She blinked rapidly and sneezed, the sound echoing faintly off the tiled walls of the bath chamber. A low sigh escaped her lips. The last few days had melted together like wax near a flame, blurry, warm, and hard to grasp. She could hardly recall much, only that every conversation felt like it was a test. She was constantly being examined and recorded. Every glance from a councilperson held a question, and none of them asked it aloud.

They knew.

Or at the very least, they suspected.

Her role—Crimsonclaw’s ambassador, in name and presence—was no longer going to be a shadow tucked behind Charlotte or buried in garden walks. It had been implied by enough people that the performance had begun. Serena was a delegation of one, and the burden sat heavy on her shoulders. That would be the story that was going to be spun, anyway.

She reached for the cloth beside the basin and dried off with methodical movements. Her limbs still felt sluggish from sleep. As she rubbed a generous amount of ointment into her arms and shoulders, the unique scent of mint and lavender filled the room. The mixture stung slightly against a bruise on her thigh, one she didn’t remember getting but she welcomed the discomfort. It meant she was still tethered here, to her body, and to the moment.

The door creaked as she secured the robe around herself. By the time she stepped out of the washroom, her brows had furrowed. Livia was already waiting inside her room.

Of course she was. Livia was more or less her watcher.

She stood near the window, holding a gown draped carefully across both arms. The fabric shimmered like the inside of an oyster shell, deep red, threaded with black along the hem. The cut was imperial and commanding, tailored to draw the eye without being too revealing. An ambassador’s gown, without question.

Serena straightened, wiping her damp hands on the edge of her robe. "Livia," she said politely.

"Serena." Livia inclined her head just so, her voice clipped but not unkind.

It was a strained thing between them, this politeness, laced with memory. The last time they had spoken with any candour, Livia had practically urged her to leave Ironshade altogether. To go home, or wherever rogues like her were supposed to slink back to. Serena had not forgotten it.

And from the tightness around Livia’s mouth, neither had she. That would be a good thing, at least Livia was aware that Serena would hate to see her at the moment.

"The dress," Livia said, lifting it slightly, "was selected this morning. I had the sleeves adjusted. It should fit." Her eyes swept over Serena once. "Do have your hair arranged."

Serena accepted the gown with careful fingers. "You did not bring your usual attendants today. That’s a first."

Livia didn’t smile. "It is not a coronation of any sort," she replied simply.

Serena moved toward her vanity and laid the gown gently over the chair. "Is that how it is meant to feel?" she muttered, more to herself than to the room.

If Livia heard, she did not comment. Instead, she walked a few paces and turned her back, perhaps giving her the space to dress. Serena reached for a comb and pulled it through her damp curls slowly, wincing when the teeth caught on a knot. She had just begun twisting the strands into a half-braid when the door burst open without ceremony.

Charlotte. Of course, who else would it be?

The room seemed to tense around her as she strode in, skirts brushing the doorway. Charlotte’s curls were in disarray, and a mischievous smile already played across her lips like she had been waiting to startle someone.

"Well, well," she drawled, surveying the room like a theatre she had just entered. "What a charming tableau."

Livia froze where she stood.

Serena tried not to appear too openly shocked as she said, "Do you not knock?"

Charlotte waved the question away. "For you? Never. For her?" She gave Livia a long, deliberate look. "Maybe."

Livia turned around slowly, her composure faltering for the briefest moment. Her eyes widened, but only slightly, enough for Serena to catch it. The sudden appearance of Charlotte had clearly unsettled her. Serena turned back to the mirror and worked on her hair. If Darius recognised Charlotte, then it would be no surprise that Livia did as well.

"What are you doing here?" Livia asked coolly, though her voice had thinned at the edges.

Charlotte stepped closer and let her fingers graze the edge of Serena’s vanity. "Just checking in on our lady diplomat. I heard there’s going to be an appearance today."

"That is for the council to determine," Livia said.

Charlotte’s gaze slid toward Serena, ignoring the comment entirely. "And what a dress you’ve got. I daresay they might mistake you for royalty."

Serena smiled faintly. "I imagine that is the point."

She glanced at Livia, who looked like she had seen a ghost. Her lower lip trembled slightly, and she had not taken her eyes off Charlotte since she had stepped into the room.

"Mm. Still, I do hope you haven’t forgotten who stitched you up so prettily the first time," Charlotte said, eyes dancing. "Shall I help with your hair? Or will Lady Frostbite handle it herself?"

Livia’s nostrils flared. "I have done what I came here to do. I cannot believe Silas and Darius would pull this sort of stunt. Everyone seems to want to be cursed these days."

And with that, she turned sharply and swept from the room, leaving behind a faint trail of rose and iron.

Charlotte watched her go, brows raised. "That went well."

"She doesn’t like you," Serena said.

"She doesn’t like you either. But at least I don’t pretend otherwise."

Serena hummed softly and returned to the mirror. "So you two do know each other?"

Charlotte stepped in behind her, eyeing her in the mirror with a slight frown. "And that would be none of your business."