Morning eventually crept up upon her, and slowly she stirred awake from her slumber. The gentle rays of sunlight cascaded over her body, warming her from the cold of winter's chill. She rolled over onto her side and stared blankly at the wall for a while. It felt a lot more peaceful and peaceful without any troubles occupying her thoughts, but there was something that remained nagging at her, something she couldn't seem to shake off.

Her brow furrowed ever so slightly, trying to think of a reason as to why she couldn't seem to let go of the unsettling feelings she had. Slowly, she sat up, pushing her red locks from her forehead to avoid falling into her eyes. She stretched her arms high above her head and let them fall gently to her sides. Once she was fully upright, she gazed at her small, simple bedroom.

Her room wasn't anything extravagant or fancy. Although she liked being able to wear clothes she deemed comfortable and comfortable to wear, she also enjoyed the simplicity of it. Everything seemed pretty plain and ordinary, except for the huge wooden doors that separated her room from her father's.

Pushing herself out of bed, Charlotte took her time to wash and dress herself in a long-sleeve linen shirt and deep blue overdress that reached her ankles. She brushed her hair as well, letting her fingers wander through the long strands and brush them out of her face. Then she slipped her shoes on and grabbed her bag before heading downstairs.

"Father? Are you in here?" She called out as she entered the kitchen, only to be greeted by silence. With a soft sigh, she headed towards the garden only to find him working once again. He never seemed to tire out of it, she thought. It was not surprising, to say the least. Charlotte approached him as she stood next to him.

Her father turned his head to see her daughter beside him and offered her a bright smile, "Ah, Charlotte. Good morning! Are you here to help me today, little one?"

The young redhead chuckled slightly with a nod, "Well, considering I have plenty of time to spare... I may as well."

They both chuckled once again and indulged in conversations for the rest of the day as their hands worked the garden until evening arrived. Charlotte then set her gloves aside when her eyes landed on her father, who seemed to be hunched over, stirring concern within her. She approached him with a hand on his shoulder and brows furrowed, "Father? Are you alright?"

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His body started to convulse, earning confusion from the young redhead as she attempted to reassure him. He was coughing rather violently, and Charlotte didn't know what to do as she ushered him inside the house. She glanced around the garden briefly to see any disturbance, but after she was certain there was none, she began to prepare a cup of herbal tea as quickly as she could. Her father was now resting in bed, with a cool rag resting atop his head.

The redhead couldn't figure out what was happening to her father, but she needed to do something quickly. After dealing with the tea, Charlotte proceeded to her father's room and set the teacup at the bedside, she checked his body temperature – making sure the dampened rag did its job.

With a tired sigh, she left the room and rushed to the bookshelves in the common room, fingers brushing against the spine of the books until her eyes landed on a book that caught her eye. Yes, the book she needed to go through to ease her father with whatever illness he was facing. She pulled the book out from the rest, flipping through the pages until she found the page she was searching for.

Sanguine Root.

That's it, that's the one, she thought.

Charlotte skimmed through the text, taking note of the location of the Sanguine Root, and assessed the uses of the item on an ill person. Once she read through the texts, the redhead took a map from the same shelf and traced her finger towards the location of the Sanguine Root. She then circled the area with a red chalk that appeared conveniently on the desk. It was a relief to know that the location of the Sanguine Root wasn't that inconveniently far.

She had decided to make the journey to find this particular item the following day, considering the sun was gradually sinking as the moon began to unveil itself in the darkening sky. For now, she must prepare a chicken and mushroom broth for herself and her father for dinner.

It was a lonely night, now that Charlotte's father had fallen ill and there was no other company, so she decided to occupy herself with her favorite novel to keep her worries aside. Besides the cricketing noise outside of her home and the flames flickering in the fireplace, it was completely silent. It is simply an average day, she thought. Her worries seemed to flood in as she thought of her father being unable to leave his bed and their home.

Her thoughts were constantly overlapping, tiring her out, and she placed the large leather-bound book aside as slumber overtook her.

The dark castle seemed to be much closer than before, much more than she'd like to admit. The surrounding area seemed to isolate the castle, with strange trees and creatures lurking out and about. Owls hooted in the background, sending shivers down Charlotte's spine as she studied the unfamiliar landscape before her. Who would live in such an area, she wondered. As she approached the large oak wood doors of the castle, a voice in her head seemed to protest her from entering the establishment. Little did she know, something dangerous awaits her arrival.