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Princess Charlotte's Poison-Pen Peril	By : NightDarkSoul Category: +M to R > Princess Principal Views: 133 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Princess Principal, nor the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1-I Know Who and What You Are
- 2-Please Do Not Touch Me
- 1
- 2
Notes: Chapter 1 Originally posted on Ao3 as "I Know Who and What You Are" for Whumptober 2020, on 17 October, for the prompt set "I Did Not See That Coming / Blackmail / Dirty Secret"
Reposted now with minor edits as the first part of an extended fic.
Warnings: Blackmail, Threats of Violence. Possible future triggery elements. Charlotte's relationship to her antagonist is central to the story, but their identity and the precise nature of that relationship is undisclosed due to the nature of the story.

----- Chapter One -----
I Know Who and What You Are

Princess Charlotte sits at her desk, a pen in her hand and a notebook open in front of her. On one side of the desk, a book is open to a page somewhere in the middle.
She is writing. Her script is smooth, flowing from her pen like a stream of water.
There's a knock at her door, and she frowns at the interruption.
"Just one moment," she calls out.
She screws the cap on the pen, sets it down deliberately, and rises.
She sees an envelope under the door.
She walks over to it, kneels, and picks it up. There's no writing on it, but it's sealed with a red foil sticker in the shape of a heart.
Charlotte smiles, and opens the door. She glances up and down the hallway, hoping to catch a glimpse of the perpetrator. She has two theories.
She sees no one. Which almost makes her suspect the spy Ange, rather than her dear friend Beatrice.
She sighs and closes the door. She'll be able to figure it out soon enough, she suspects.
She sits at her desk, and carefully loosens the red foil sticker. She doesn't want to damage it after all.
Opening the envelope, she's greeted with the scents of lavender and vanilla.
She giggles. It's her own perfume, or at least a close imitation of it.
"Oh Charlotte," she whispers.
She pulls out the letter in the envelope. She unfolds it.
Her smile instantly melts. Her mouth turns dry. Her heart, thrumming heavily, is in her throat.

Ange,
I know who and what you are.
You cannot fool me.
Show this letter to anyone and you will suffer.
You are a fake. A fraud.
And I have proof. If you wish to avoid it being sent to:
The Queen
The Home Secretary
and perhaps most damning:
The Press
then you will go down tonight to the garden. Alone.
I will give you further instructions then.
Sincerely,
The Mirror.

Her hand covers her mouth. It's shaking. She swallows, and rereads the letter.
It could be a prank, she reasons. The spy, Ange, knows of course. She is, after all, the real Princess Charlotte. But she would never do something like this. Would she?

Princess reads the letter again. It's in a simple, crisp script. There's nothing familiar about it. If Ange wrote it, it isn't obvious.
What to do?
Ought she show Ange? Dorothy? They are spies, and are surely familiar with blackmail. They could help her. Beatrice? No, the girl is too panicky. She would try to help, but if Princess is honest, she'd only make things worse,
Princess folds the letter, and places it back in the envelope.

The night is chilly. The north wind threatens an early winter.
Princess shivers, and wraps her arms around her body. She's in the garden, walking down the central path. Rose bushes, now all thorn without bloom, rise on either side of her. The envelope is in her hand.
"Good," she hears. It's a low, quiet voice. She can't tell who it is, if it is a male or female.
She stops, and swallows heavily.
"I've come, as you asked."
"Yes. So you have. Filthy street rat."
Princess shivers, and not from the wind.
"What do you want of me?"
"Everything," the voice says, directly behind her.
She gasps, and fights down panic. "What ...."
A hand clamps around her mouth, and she is pulled back against a solid body. A slender knife blade presses against her throat.
"Don't talk," the voice whispers, directly into her ear.
The envelope flutters down to the ground. Charlotte has dropped it in her surprise. Her hands are at her sides, limp. Shaking.
"You have fooled everyone. Snuck into the royal family like a rat. No, like a louse. Leeching off of it. You were born in a gutter, and you ought to be in one right now."
Princess makes a muffled sound, which could be protest, or a cry for help.
"I won't kill you. Not outright. You're too valuable to kill, after all. No, if I kill you I can't get anything from you, now can I?"
The knife is no longer pressed against her throat. Instead, it lowers. Princess feels it press against her sternum. It's worked underneath her coat. With a casual flick, her top button is cut away. It falls through the air, landing on the path with a soft sound.
"It's very sharp, isn't it?"
Princess nods.
The blade lowers again. It's brought underneath her coat, threatening the next button.
"Now," the voice says as the blade flicks up, sending another button sailing off into the night. "You will return to your room. Directly to your room. You will find your most expensive piece of jewelry."
Princess stiffens in surprise. She hears a laugh.
"I don't care what it is. Just find it. Open your window and lean out. Then drop that jewel out. Once you have done so, you may do as you please. For now. I'll give you further instructions at a later time."
Princess, her eyes wide in a mix of surprise and fear, nods.
"Oh, and just so we're clear, I will know if you tell anyone. And if you do ...."
The knife is pushed into the blouse she wears under her coat. It's drawn up in a swift motion, cutting it from just below her breasts up to her collar.
She stiffens, and makes another muffled sound.
"Then that will be your flesh."
And just as abruptly, the hand is removed from her mouth, the knife pulled back.
She is alone. She takes a deep breath. She's trembling heavily.
She kneels down and feels around. She finds the envelope and the two buttons. She gathers them up quickly, then stands. Barely able to support her own weight. She turns and rushes back into her dorm. Up to her room.
She closes and locks her door. She's still shaking. She drops the envelope and buttons on the desk. She unbuttons her coat, tossing it to one side.
Her blouse, unsupported now, flaps open. She glances in the mirror. It's ruined, beyond repair.
She shrugs off the blouse and tosses it down. Then she glances at her window.
Too many things run through her head at once. She closes her eyes and takes another deep breath.
No.
No, there's too much at stake. She opens her eyes and walks over to her dresser, She opens the jewelry box and sorts through it.
Most expensive item? She isn't certain what that would be. There are several that are precious to her in ways that transcend money ... but he (or she?) hadn't asked for that.
So she grabs a gold necklace, adorned in front with a dozen cascading strands of diamonds. If it isn't her most expensive necklace, it is one of the flashiest and most impressive.
She walks over to the window and opens it. She shivers at the cold. Her arms are bare, and the camisole over her torso is thin, and not designed for warmth.
She holds her breath, leans out the window, and drops the necklace. It sparkles in the thin, yellowish gas-light, landing in a bush that sat up next to the wall.
She waits for a moment. Watching, despite the cold. There is no movement.
She closes her window, and turns off her light. Then she pulls her chair over to the window. She sits. She watches.
She finds herself waking up, sore, stiff, groggy. She is still sitting on the chair. There is very thin, pale light. Vaguely ruddy in hue.
She stands, stretches and yawns, and glances out her window. She can't see anything, other than a few students, early risers, out walking.

It's a long, tiring day. Princess can't think of a reason to skip her classes, and she's never let little things like existential terror or sheer exhaustion stop her before. Despite the events of the previous night being on her mind through the day, she is able to appear graceful and precise in class, and no one seems to notice that anything is wrong.
At the midday break, she goes out to the table to meet with her friends. She sees that Beatrice, as usual, has already set up tea and a collection of sweets. She also sees a thin box covered in light blue wrapping-paper, and an off-white envelope, lying on the table in front of the space where she usually sits.
Her stomach twists into knots.
"Oh, hello Your Highness," Beatrice says with a smile. "You're looking well today."
"Thank you, Beato. you are also."
Beatrice nods to acknowledge the compliment. "The others will be here soon, although it seems someone was out here before us."
Princess sits down, and looks at the box and envelope. "So it seems. I presume you do not know who left these?"
"No, I'm afraid not, Highness. Would you like tea?"
"I believe I will wait for the others."
"Don't have to wait long," Dorothy says cheerfully. She, Ange, and Chise are all walking together.
Princess stands with a smile. "Welcome."
Ange answers her smile with a quick one of her own, then walks to the chair beside her. Princess sees her expression darken when she notices the box on the table.
"Oh, and what's that?" Dorothy asks with a sly grin.
"A present?" Chise asks.
"So it would seem," Princess says, her cheeks dusting pink.
"Well, shall we?" Beatrice asks.
"Yeah, tea and pastries. But more importantly, open them!"
Ange glares at Dorothy, and Princess' cheeks redden. She has an uncomfortable feeling what she'll find.
"Yes," Chise chimes in with a thin smile. "I too am curious."
"Actually," Ange says seriously, "that is a good idea. It would be best if you opened them in our presence, in case there is something nefarious involved."
"Jealous?" Dorothy teases.
Ange blushes. "Of course not."
Chise's smile widens just a touch, but she doesn't say anything.
"Oh, very well," Princess sighs.
Her hands manage not to shake, as she carefully opens the envelope. She begins to read.
"Out loud, so we can all hear!" Dorothy laughs. Beatrice and Princess both glare at her.
"Fine. 'To my dearest Princess Charlotte,' " she reads.
Dorothy giggles, and Chise's eyebrows raise. Beatrice's cheeks turn pink, but she also seems to be expectantly awaiting the rest of the letter.
Ange's face has turned pale, and she is not making eye contact with anyone.
" 'For far too long I have watched you from the shadows. ' " Princess suppresses a shudder. Her stomach is in a tight knot, and she's certain she won't be able to eat any of Beatrice's pastries without becoming sick.
"Oh, this is good," Dorothy mutters.
" 'Please, I beg of you, accept the gift that I have sent you. If you do not, you will wound me to the core.' "
"Ange-sama, have you written this note?"
Ange's cheeks redden now, and she glances at Chise. "I have not."
"It would seem to be in your style," the Japanese girl continues, in a just-slightly teasing tone.
Princess clears her throat, and continues to read. " 'Wear it, along with a nice dress, and meet me tonight behind the gymnasium.' "
Ange now frowns. "I believe that would be a mistake."
" 'Alone, please.' "
"I agree with Ange. Highness, please don't even consider it."
Princess sets the letter aside and turns to the box. Her hands shake slightly, and while the others certainly notice, they likely believe it to be natural nervous excitement.
She cleanly loosens the paper from the box, folds it neatly, and places it to one side. She then lifts the lid from the white cardboard box inside.
"It's ... beautiful," Beatrice says with wide eyes.
"That must've cost a fortune," Dorothy says in surprise.
"It is quite a gift," Chise says.
Ange glares at the contents of the box, and says nothing.
Princess' heart is thrumming in her chest, and her breath catches. It's a gold necklace, adorned in front with a dozen cascading strands of diamonds.
Princess closes the box again, and takes a deep breath. "My." Her voice cracks, and Dorothy grins.
"Well well, looks like someone's got a secret admirer. A rich one too."
"So it seems," Princess manages to say.
"I would still advise against meeting this person," Ange says. "The necklace may well be stolen. Besides, rich is hardly a byword for safe."
"I," Princess hesitates. "I appreciate your concern. However, I believe that I must meet with the person. If nothing else, I must return this necklace."
"Then I will accompany you," Ange says.
"No, I shall go alone."
"Princess .…"
"I shall be on campus," Princess says. "I'm quite certain to be safe."

"You are not going alone," Ange says without inflection. She's sitting on the building's roof, just above Princess' window.
"Charlotte," Princess sighs. She suppresses a shudder. Whoever is sending these letters knows. How much, she isn't certain. If Ange is anywhere nearby tonight, it could be trouble. Then again, she reasons, Ange can take care of it.
"No," Princess says aloud. "Please, don't make trouble. I shall simply deny this person, return the necklace, and that will be that."
Ange doesn't answer right away. When she does, it is with obvious reluctance. "Very well. However, I shall remain on the roof of the dormitory. Should you require help .…"
"I shall scream quite loudly, I assure you." Princess isn't joking.
She is ready to go, wearing one of her nicer dresses, and the necklace. It's a warm evening, unlike the last night, so she only needs a fairly light jacket.
She glances up to the roof as she leaves the dorm building. She catches a glance of Ange peering down at her.
She wants to tell her. This involves her, after all. She has convinced herself, though, that it's better not to. No, this really does involve just her. She is the real Princess now, even if she wasn't born to it.
Still, it nags at her as she walks through the darkened campus.
Despite the lateness of the hour, she sees a small group of students enter the gymnasium. They're part of a sporting club, but she doesn't know which. Like all students, she's spent time on the pitch, guarding a wicket or kicking a football, but she's not really interested.
No one takes notice of her either, as she slips around to the rear of the building. It's a popular place for meetings, as there are no windows, and the architecture provides several niches which, at this time of evening, are basically unlit.
She takes a deep breath, and slowly walks along the wall. Wondering how she'll be contacted.
She doesn't have to wonder long.
"Lovely dress." It's the same voice, directly behind her.
"Thank you," Princess replies, evenly as she can.
"Don't fight or try to run," the voice says, as a hand is placed on her side.
Her fear spikes, but she complies, letting herself be led into one of the darkened niches. The hand slides around to her belly, and the person presses close against her back.
"Now, here's what's going to happen. You are going to take that necklace off, and let it drop to the ground. I'll get it later."
Princess nods slowly, and starts to lift her hands to comply. They are grabbed roughly, and forced back down.
"Not yet," the voice hisses. "Wait til I tell you to."
Princess nods.
"Good." Her hands are released, but she is grabbed around the waist. "You may now remove the necklace."
Princess' hands shake, but she unlatches the jewel. As instructed, she allows it to fall down to the dark ground.
"Now, tonight was just a test. To make sure you'd obey me and not involve your spy friends."
"Spies?" Princess asks, trying to sound genuinely confused.
"I know you're conspiring. Isn't it just a little ironic, that the real Princess is pretending to be someone else pretending to be you?"
Princess takes a deep breath. "I suppose it is," she answers, which is actually true.
"So, here's what's going to happen. Tomorrow evening, your friends have a mission. You are not included as it's considered too dangerous. Therefore, you will go to town. You are familiar with the Cheshire Café?"
"Yes," she answers. It's one they have gone to from time to time.
"Good. Go there, but not inside. Two doors down, there is an alley."
"Yes," Princess says. "Yes I know of it."
"Go down that alley. I will meet you there. We'll have a little more time then, without risk of interruption."
Princess feels nauseous. That's the last thing she wants, especially with someone she doesn't know, who knows all the details of her life.
Wait ... knows all the details?
Princess swallows. "Zelda?"
"Is that name supposed to mean something to me?"
"It is you, isn't it?" Princess is not entirely certain, but she has a feeling.
"Even if I were this Zelda, what difference would it make?"
"If I knew who you were ...."
"If? If. It doesn't really matter, does it? Now, I will say again: meet me where I have asked you to. Bring several hundred pounds"
"Several hundred?"
"Yes."
"So this is just about money?"
"No, it is not just about money. Money is a good start, however. Several hundred pounds. If you do not, you will regret it."
"And if I don't come at all?"
"You will regret it even more deeply. Remember, I know everything, and I have enough evidence to ruin you."
"Fine," she answers, quietly. "I'll come. Alone."
"Good. It's been a pleasure, darling."
- 1
- 2
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Princess Charlotte's Poison-Pen Peril