Chapter 306: Chapter 306 : Desire (3)

“Lately,” Charlotte said, “when Edward died… the dam finally broke. Another personality was born from all those bottled-up desires.”

Alex’s expression turned grim. “Which is you.”

Charlotte smiled. “Correct. That is me.”

Alex’s gaze hardened. “Then answer me this—why were you trying to dominate my mind?”

Charlotte tilted her head. “Like I said before, I wanted to peek inside. To find out some of your secrets… and also to show you something.”

Alex sighed. ’So that’s why she’s called the disaster birthed by the royal family, huh…’

His system’s voice echoed in his mind.

[ Looks like it, Host. Even if you weren’t involved, with the way things were going, Charlotte would’ve developed this separate personality anyway. And she would likely have wiped out her brothers and anyone who got in her way. ]

’Thanks for defending me,’ Alex thought dryly. ’Still doesn’t feel great knowing I just sped up the process.’

[ That’s just how it is, Host. ]

Alex looked back at Charlotte. “So what’s your next move? What are you going to do now?”

Charlotte pretended to think. “For now, I’ll go back, I suppose. It’s not like I can appear whenever I want. I’m more like… a security mechanism. Whenever *she* refuses to face something, that’s when I come out.”

Alex frowned inwardly. ’Two personalities fighting for control… that’s not good.’

“Are you fine with living inside her like that?” he asked quietly.

Silence hung between them for a moment.

“Of course I am,” Charlotte answered.

The thought hit Alex immediately. ’She’s lying.’

[ How do you know she’s lying, Host? ] the system asked.

’Even like this, she’s still Charlotte,’ Alex replied in his mind. ’When she lies or tries to manipulate someone face-to-face, she overthinks every word. Her pitch goes just a bit higher too. Most people wouldn’t notice. I do. And that’s exactly what she just did.’

Alex fixed his gaze on her. “Why are you lying?”

Charlotte’s mouth twitched. “I’m not.”

“You are,” Alex said calmly. “Whenever you try to fool someone, you think too much first.”

Charlotte went silent, stunned for a second.

’We can’t just trust this personality,’ Alex thought. ’Not like this.’

He spoke in his mind. ’Scan her brain. Let’s see what we get.’

[ Understood, Host. ]

In an instant, Alex reached forward and placed his hand firmly on Charlotte’s head.

Her eyes sharpened. “I know what you’re trying to do,” she said seriously. “And I wouldn’t advise it.”

“Sorry,” Alex replied quietly, “but you’re too much of a mystery to leave alone. I’m not taking any chances. Also… this might hurt a bit. Be ready.”

[ Whenever you’re ready, Host. ]

“Do it,” Alex said.

—

The room vanished.

In the next heartbeat, Alex found himself standing somewhere entirely different, like he had been pulled into someone else’s memories.

He was still inside the royal palace—but not as he knew it now. The halls were brighter, untouched by war or tension. Through an open archway, he saw three children playing together in a sunlit garden.

Joseph, Lucas, and Charlotte.

The boys looked about seven—small but energetic, faces still soft and innocent. Charlotte looked around five, her white hair tied into short twin tails as she chased after them with a bright giggle.

“Catch me if you can!” she laughed, running in uneven little steps.

Joseph swooped her up from behind, spinning her in the air as she squealed. “Got you, Charlotte!”

Lucas ruffled her hair. “You’re so slow, you’ll never be queen at this rate.”

“But I’m still cute!” Charlotte replied, puffing out her cheeks.

The boys laughed and continued to play, inventing silly games, letting her win sometimes, spoiling her in small ways—offering their sweets, helping her up when she fell, listening seriously as she babbled about childish dreams.

Charlotte giggled, carefree and glowing with the pure innocence of a child surrounded by love.

Then a shadow fell over the scene.

Regina stepped into the garden.

Her maroon hair was perfectly styled, her brown eyes sharp and cold. Her gaze swept over the three children—and stopped on Charlotte.

“Joseph. Lucas.” Her voice was stern. “What are you doing?”

The boys stiffened. “We’re just playing with Charlotte, Mother,” Joseph answered.

Regina’s expression hardened. “How many times have I told you? Stay away from her.”

She strode forward, heels clicking against the stone. “That girl is bad luck for our family.”

She grabbed each boy by the arm, pulling them away from Charlotte.

“But Mother—” Lucas tried to protest.

“Enough,” Regina snapped. “I will not say it again.”

As she turned to leave with her sons, Regina shot a glare back at the small, trembling Charlotte—a glare filled with disgust and something like hatred.

Charlotte, left alone in the garden, shrank back, eyes wide with fear.

The warmth from moments ago vanished, replaced by a cold, empty silence.

From that day the attitude of her brothers changed for her as they started treating her worse and worse.

—

The memory around Alex shifted again.

Now Charlotte was about seven, sitting at a small dining table in a cozy side palace far from the main royal complex. The room was warm, lit by soft lamplight. In front of her, simple but well-prepared dishes were laid out.

On a cushioned chair, Isabella—Charlotte’s mother—held her gently in her lap, feeding her small bites with a fond smile.

“Slow down,” Isabella chuckled. “You’ll choke if you eat that fast.”

Charlotte giggled, cheeks puffed slightly with food. “But it’s yummy, Mom.”

Isabella brushed a stray strand of white hair from Charlotte’s face. “Fine, fine. Eat as much as you like.”

For that brief moment, they looked perfectly happy—just a mother and daughter sharing a peaceful meal.

Then Isabella’s hand trembled.

She coughed once.

Then again—harder.

Dark red blood splattered onto the napkin in her hand.

Her vision blurred; the world around her tilted. Her fingers slipped from the spoon as it clattered onto the plate.

“Mom…?” Charlotte’s smile vanished. “Mom, what’s wrong? Mom, open your eyes! What’s happening to you?!”

Isabella slumped back in the chair, breaths growing shallow, face losing color rapidly.

Charlotte’s eyes filled with tears. “Help! Somebody, help!” she screamed.

But no one came.

This smaller palace—assigned to Isabella—was far from the main royal buildings. Servants rarely came unless summoned, and tonight… they weren’t nearby.

Charlotte jumped off her mother’s lap and bolted out the door, sprinting down the empty hallways, crying as she went. “Help! Please! Someone!”

Her footsteps echoed for what felt like forever.

After nearly five minutes of frantic running and yelling, she finally stumbled into a corridor where a servant was passing by.

“Please!” Charlotte grabbed their sleeve. “My mom—something’s wrong—she’s coughing blood—please!”

The servant’s face turned pale. “Lady Isabella…!”

They rushed back with Charlotte, and soon more attendants followed, carrying medical supplies and calling for doctors.

The scene blurred, and the memory shifted again.

—

Now Isabella lay in a large bed inside a quiet room. Her condition looked much worse. Multiple magical and medical devices surrounded her—crystal monitors pulsing with faint light, tubes connecting to her arms, spells etched into the walls to stabilize her aura.

Isabella’s face was pale and thin, her breathing shallow but steady.

Charlotte, now around nine, sat at her bedside, clutching her hand with both of hers.

The door creaked open.

Regina stepped inside.

Her eyes swept the scene—the medical devices, Isabella’s weakened form, and Charlotte desperately holding on. A small, pleased smile tugged at her lips.

“So,” Regina said coldly, “looks like that bitch finally got what she deserves… for birthing a disaster like you.”

Charlotte’s small hands tightened around her mother’s.

By now, she already despised Regina from the depths of her heart. “Leave,” Charlotte said, voice shaking but defiant. “Don’t come back. You’re not welcome here.”

Regina’s smile vanished. Her face flushed red with rage. “How dare you, you brat, try to order *me* around?”

She strode forward and raised her hand.

The slap cracked through the room, snapping Charlotte’s head to the side. Her cheek turned bright red.

Yet Charlotte still glared back at her, eyes burning.

“How dare you look at me like that!” Regina screamed.

Her hand lashed out again.

Second slap.

Third slap.

By the fourth, tears spilled from Charlotte’s eyes, but her gaze did not waver. She refused to look away.

Regina lifted her hand for a fifth strike—

And someone caught her wrist mid-air.

“Who dares to stop me—” Regina began, spinning around.

Her breath caught in her throat.

Edward stood there.

His amethyst eyes blazed with fury, a suffocating aura leaking from his body. The air itself seemed to tighten.

“What are you doing?” he asked, voice dangerously low.

Regina’s anger withered into stuttering fear. “I-It’s not what you think, Edward. I was just trying to discipline her a bi—”

Before she could finish, Edward’s hand whipped across her face.

The slap sent her flying across the room, crashing into a cabinet with a loud thud.

Watching from within the memory, Alex couldn’t help but whistle. “Wow… that was enjoyable.”

Edward glared at Regina. “Don’t touch her ever again,” he said. “Or I will forget how much I benefit from this political marriage.”

Regina staggered to her feet, clutching her cheek. “You will pay for this…” she hissed, before turning and storming out of the room.

The door slammed shut behind her.

Left alone with Charlotte and Isabella, Edward turned back.

Charlotte glared at him through her tears. “Why did you come now, huh?” she shouted. “Why did you only come now?!”

She pointed at her unconscious mother. “It’s your fault! Mother… Mother is like this because of you! It’s all your fault!”

Her voice broke. “If you were here from the start to protect us… if you were with us… Mother wouldn’t be like this!”

She pounded her small fists against his chest. “But you weren’t! You weren’t there! You forgot about us!”

“Char, listen to me—” Edward tried softly.

“Go away!” Charlotte screamed. “Go away! I don’t want to see you!”

Edward’s shoulders slumped. A deep sadness crossed his face.

Despite her words, he stepped forward and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her into a hug.

She struggled at first, then clung to him, sobbing into his chest.

“You’re right,” Edward whispered. “It’s all my fault.”

Days passed in a blur.

Most of Charlotte’s time was spent at her mother’s bedside. Isabella, even in her weakened state, tried to smile for her daughter whenever she was awake.

“Charlotte,” she would say, voice faint but firm, “if you want to survive in this palace… you must become strong. No one will hand you anything. You’ll have to take it yourself.”

She gently stroked Charlotte’s hair. “Always aim higher. Do only what *you* truly want. If you want to be queen… then no one has the right to stop you from claiming the throne.”

Those words burned themselves into Charlotte’s heart.

Motivated by her mother’s wishes, she began to work harder—studying more, training more, doing everything she could to gain recognition from Edward… and to become someone worthy in her own eyes.

But the day came when even Isabella’s will couldn’t keep her alive.

Isabella Evans Avaloria passed away.

That was the day Charlotte caused her first disaster.

And it was the very same day—not so coincidentally—that disaster also struck Alex’s life, far from the palace walls.

Watching it all unfold through the fragmented memory, Alex could barely believe what he was seeing.

—–

A/N:

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