Father.

Charlotte POV.

"Let's go princess, quickly," Tristan says coming toward me, he takes hold of my hand and walks me out of the room before I can object or even get the chance to talk.

"Tristan, what's going on?" I finally managed to say as we ran through the doors of the kingdom, maids bowed to us, and other guards looked at us with confusion, but we kept moving, until we got to a more private area, a place that didn't have the same feeling of being in the middle of a bee hive.

"We're going somewhere safe, the queen has it out for you, we need to hide you," he says.

"Let her come, Tristan, I'd love to have a bit of that bitch," I say stopping and looking at him with confidence, I'm the daughter of Madame Witch, I'm not one to be messed with.

"Charlotte, you're young, you're powerful, but she's old, and she's filled with tricks, you can't stand up for her, she doesn't play fair and she's not scared of hitting you when you're not looking," he says.

"Lovely, she sounds like a doll,"