Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

After Mom's death, Siyeon stopped having dreams. Children's uncomplicated fantasies remained in the old apartment, in worn sketchbooks with funny stickers.

It seems… The last thing she drew were the semblance of porticos that she saw on one of the advertising stands of a travel agency on the way home. She could hardly remember anymore. She would like to look through the drawings again and remember those days. Consider images captured with colored pencils on paper. But alas.

The new tenants threw out all the things left after her and mom, because, Father, did not bother to pick them up, simply forgetting.

After moving into a new house, the maid threw out all the things she brought in an old backpack, as unnecessary garbage. Now she is the daughter of an influential businessman and a company executive, which means she must look and match her family, and nothing else.

The daughter of such an influential person cannot have things from a cheap basement shop. The daughter of such an influential person cannot have problems. The daughter of such an influential person should have nothing but money.

Siyeon had no reason to grieve. She didn't have time to remember the past at all anymore and think about what happened before she came home.

After all, the only daughter of the Cha family, was insanely rich and could afford anything, anytime. And some shabby magazine wasn't worth a dime to be so upset about it.

"If she really needs an album, buy it, what's the problem?" said the father, not content with the fact that he was prevented from talking on the phone. Siyeon will remember this tone and the nervousness in his voice for the rest of his life as a warning not to try and leave everything and before it gets even worse. The servant who was making excuses to the master hesitated, not knowing what to say in response. Siyeon not even knowing how to talk to her seemingly native father, let alone ask, stood outside the office door, pressing her back against the wall, listening to the conversation. "I hired you to make a lady out of her, but what do i see? She can't even look anyone in the eye! I not paying enough?!"

When the maid bought her a new sketchbook— expensive, thick paper, with a beautiful cover— Siyeon wanted to tear it up and throw it in the nearest trash.

But she was sorry for the money spent, so she just left it gathering dust in a drawer, never drawing even a tiny dash there.

Another warm memory of Siyeon was the program about dinosaurs, running on saturday evening, right after the news. She had difficulty pronouncing long names of species, which is why her mother often made fun of her, helping her pronounce each syllable.

She loved these evenings because it was the only time in her mother's busy schedule when they could spend a little more than fifteen minutes together.

After she moved, seeing this program on the large plasma TV in the living room, she silently went to her room, wanting to repeat some paragraphs from the textbook again.

She was sick of any reminder of the past. But without them... it was even worse.

Siyeon missed her mother madly. She was missing like a breath of air. Her support, her hugs—herself.

It was enough for the girl to live in a small family without money, but with huge dreams for the future.

Now she had money—a lot of money, but not one dream or at least a stupid whim in her head. A solid void. What an irony.

No one cared how a small child who had lost his mother was going through grief, whether he needed help or simple support — hugs or kind words. Her new brothers avoided her, or drove her away with insulting words, so long as she did not call her eyes. And the father… He never had time for her.

When her mother appeared in her dreams, the girl begged her to take her with her, not to leave her alone.

"Please don't leave! Don't leave me alone, mom, please!" she was clutching at her mother's waist, hugging her tightly. "I don't want to be there, I want to go with you! I feel bad there without you, I'm left alone without you, and no one cares about me! Get me, please, mom!"

Siyeon cried, trying to remember every detail. From the sweet smell of cheap perfume with vanilla, to the cotton light shirt that Mom wore the last day. She felt the warmth through her, as if something was beating inside her, something alive, not ephemeral.Siyeon sincerely believed that it was all for real.

"Chi", smoothing her hair, the woman smiled carelessly. "Mommy loves you, loves you very much, dear. But it's time for mommy to leave.

Siyeon cried, screamed, but everything was useless. Mom would still let go of her hand and disappear into oblivion, like a fleeting vision. The girl hated such days especially much, cursing everything in the world. Why was the world so cruel, allowing for a moment to become that little Siyeon again, who did not know the troubles and was happy even to buy an eraser with a dinosaur on the way from school, and then throwing into the harsh reality for which it was completely unprepared, pretended that nothing had happened?

As if that happy and dazzlingly bright life was just a dream, and not a part of her life. And mom was just a child's fantasy — a fiction that she invented for herself.

But mom always held her hand and never let go, not letting her fall. But she's gone. No one was ever around to help her anymore.

When Siyeon tripped, no one could save her.

When she became Penelope, she stopped remembering her childhood. Soon, the mother's facial features began to fade in her memory and happy days became unknown to her. She began to forget those days, plunging into the suffocating routine of several part-time jobs and studies. She occasionally recalled her school years, the days she lived in her father's house. But today… She wasn't dreaming.

Plunged into darkness, she did not realize how much she needed ordinary silence. How intoxicating it was, enveloping an already exhausted mind.

No thoughts. No memories. No ill-fated system. Nothing. Just her and the darkness.

But as soon as she woke up, Penelope felt the full weight of the unsightly reality. The usual nausea insistently rolled up to the throat, exciting the exhausted body. An unbearable headache itched in temples, not allowing to gather thoughts. Lifting herself slightly, she suddenly moaned piteously, feeling the ache in muscles.

Penelope tried to get up, but the sharp rise ended in dizziness. Rolling onto her back, she flopped back onto the bed. It would seem that just a minute ago, she felt light and in a split second body became like a pile of rusted scrap metal.

Penelope didn't know what to do. And the system, as luck would have it, was silent.

What happened yesterday was absolutely spontaneous, and probably the most idiotic decision in this playthrough. She did not share the past with any of the characters, even when memories famously attacked her, returning to the most terrible period of her life.

Over the years of loneliness, she has learned to cope with everything on her own. And she wasn't looking for anyone's consolation or sympathy.

But why, then, with Reynold, did she allow herself to violate absolutely all the rules of distance and subordination? He wasn't supposed to know anything about her—the real her, stuck in the guise of Penelope Eckart. But she told he herself, without a moment's thinking - why is she doing this?

"To tell absolutely everything to a notorious gossip, what was I thinking at all?" she reproached herself, looking at the canopy without interest. "That he won't take advantage of the opportunity and blab to everyone caught about everything he heard? I am sure that as soon as I leave this room, the consequences of the "heart-to-heart" will fall on me".

"Maybe then I won't go out at all? Pretend to be sick and infirm? They will not mock a sick person", Penelope pondered, but dismissed the thought far away, "Sooner or later I will have to leave this room. At least to find out that Yvonne is back".

After lying down for a few more minutes, Eckart slowly began to rise to sit down, when suddenly a system window popped up in front of her eyes.

"Speak of the devil..." Penelope swore to herself, leaning on her hand in time to avoid falling again.

Eckart snorted resentfully, feeling like an absolutely limp doll in the hands of an eccentric system. One thing is possible, then it is impossible. This is not to mention the reward, which, in relation to backbreaking work, clearly should be richer than the system gives it.

"For once would it be possible to give a quest that will be understandable and without any idiotic tricks that I find out about at the last moment?"

"Stop — disable? Remarkable! That is, do you want to say that some fines and additional quests will not do? Now the system can, at any moment it needs, simply knock me out?" Rubbing her slightly sweaty forehead, Penelope flopped back onto the pillow, sighing noisily. She wanted to swear and be indignant at the popup window — but what's the point, as if it would answer, "And what kind of place is this? Another glitch?"

Clutching head, Penelope whined, almost tearing her hair, afraid to imagine what the servants could have thought up. Eckart wanted to get up and, having tied a homemade rope from everything that comes to her hand, run to hell. But alas. The feet needed time before she could take even one step towards escape.

"All my efforts to preserve my reputation have gone down the drain!" the lady howled, "And why did I try so hard and humiliate myself?! So that one stupid conversation would ruin everything?! Damn you-"

Penelope flinched when she saw the pile of numbers and letters. She was used to the systematic mistakes of the game, but for the first time it looked so creepy.

"Errors began to appear in the quest notification," Penelope noticed, watching as a systematic error in the form of a single phrase quickly flashed like a hindrance on the screen. "But it doesn't look like a notification from the system. Are these the answer options from the further quest? But I disabled them, why are they still displayed in the system?"

"What?.." Eckart stared in disbelief as the phrase reappeared. Now, it wasn't at all like the answer options in the next dialog box. "What the hell is going on...?"

E̓̂̉͠r̍̈́͝r͌̍̀̀̑̕o͋̽͝r͊̐͗̚͠ c҇̄͆̊͗̽ơ͑̀̆̋̐d͒̐̌͝e̛͌͐͌̓:̏̊̄̕ 4̛̆̉̅8҇̂̓̑̂̎7̃̔̑̂͠ (̍̆̅̕0́̚͝x̛͊͛̈̇1̑̋̄͛͞E̛̾̽̏7҇͆̀́)̊̋̔̃͡.͊̓̈́̚͡ P҇̆̂̽l̇͌̉͡e̛͗͒a҇̆̐̀s̍̐͋̅̂̕e͆̉̄͡,҇͒̌̊̐̒ c̀͐͛̄̒̕ơ͛̄̏͆n̊͡t҇͂͛a̛̋̐̾͑̽c̔̐̚͠t̋̈͊͐̔͝ ẗ̛́̈h̽̊͝é̉͞ t҇͗͌e̅͆͂͠c̏̇́͝h̛̊̊̀̔̓n̓̊͞ȋ̎͊̌͝c҇̊̀́͋̾a̛̓̿̇̽l͛̓̄͡ s҇̎̉͗̎̚u҇̏̋p̽̿͞p͒̅̍͝ö́͡ř̔̕t̛͂̄̌̒ o͌͋͌̈́͞f̆̀͑̃͑͝ t̛͊͊͐̏h̊̏̚͞e̾͌̎͐͝ g̑̈́̏͞a͗̌̕m҇̓͌̓e҇̋͋̾̔̅,̇̿̍͛̓͠ T҇͊̃̉͑ŏ́̈́͝ g҇̽́e҇̾̈́̄̓t̛̍̋͋ t̎͋̀͡h̿͌͆͝e̛̅́ o͑̑͡p̑̏͞p̛͊̑̅̚ơ̂͐̓̽̑r͌͐͡t͛̎̚͞ü̒̈́͒͠n͒̐̈́̎̑͝ǐ͑̑͛͠t҇͌̓̌̋ý̍̋̄̋͞ t̏͋͛͛̕o̾̍͞ c̋̌̒̽͝ö͊̉͠ǹ̍͠ť͑͝i̅̌͠n̛̉͒̔̊ù̔͠e̛̍ p҇̄̎͛́l͊̀̿̾͝a̚͠y̽̈́̎͠i͊͂͞n̒͂̅͝g҇͂̈́͌̔̋ a͊͒̀͡n̉̎͞d̛͒̃̿ n̈̓̐̕̚ō̂̾̓͂͞t͌̒̅̂̾͝ l̇̇̌̕o͂̏͠s͑̏̓̚͝e҇̊̋̾ s҇͐̾̏̌a҇͒̓̏v҇̈́̂̑̚̚ỉ̾͂͝n͐̒͛̌̍͝g̑̂̇̋͠!̎͆͌͡ A҇̉͐v̓͊͝ỏ̑̍̈́͞i͆̅͡d̓̄̉͆̓̕ ã̐͑̓̔͡l̄̎̕l̇̄͠ p̔͂̒̚̚͞ơ̒̐͑t̔̑̕e̛͂̈͛n͌̃͛̾̚͡t̆͊̊̏͝i̛͆̈́a͌̑̓̌̅͠l̃̐̉̊̚͠ t̆͛̇͝ã́͌͝ŕ͌̉͐͋͞g̿̿͠e҇̒t̓͠ŝ͂͐̓͡,̅̀̍̾͑͡ ḯ̌̈̌̕n͊̂͝ o҇͊̆r҇͑̊̽d̑́͂̍͞è̛ř̃̕̚ ň̈͆̽͝ö̓͐̏̿͡t̂̓̆́̕ t̋͌̎̃̈͞o̾̇͞ i͐͋̔̈͒͠n̒͑͞c͛͊͝r̛͐̌e̛̔̽̎̎a͆́͊͞ṡ͂͞ē͐̿͠ t̓̈̓͒̕̚h̏̀͡ĕ̚͝ i̐̎͡m̽̃͗͞p̛͗̿̆ā̿̑͒͂͠c̓́̎̃͞t̏̒̀̅̃͝ ŏ͝f̅̔͠ t͋̈́̚͡h҇̎͂̓̑e̋̈́̒̓̀͝ ẻ̀͞r҇͗̀̚r͐̄͑́̕ó̒͌̕r͛̊̕ ō̄͠n̈̔̕ G̐͗̔͠a҇̿̊̄m̀̃̎͞e͑͂͠ w̛͗̔̒̏͑o͋̈́͝r͛͐͌͂̀͠l̉̀̃͞d̑́̋̔͡!̿̇͂̽̓͠]̉̓͂͡

[System: THE SAVE FILE IS DAMAGED!]
[System: SYSTEM SYMPATHY DISPLAY INDICATOR THE CHARACTERS ARE DAMAGED!]
[System: THE SYSTEM OF OBTAINING A REPUTATION ARE DAMAGED]
Ë́̏̕Ȓ͌̓͠R̊͒̍͞Ö̂͞R̅̓̓͛͞!͆̂͠ Ė͊̍͆̒͠R̛̽́͛O͐̎͊͑͞R҇̈́̽͐̚R͋̍̓͋͞!͂̋̚̚͠ Ë́̋̎̕R̛͒͋͗̂O̓̓͠R̽̅̄͞R͂̎̃͠!҇̎̓ E̿̓͐͠R̛̄R̎̀͂̂͡Ô͑̔͠R̔̎͡!͐̔͛̆̚͝ E̔̄̄̋͡R҇̄̋̄Ơ̈͆͗R͋̽́̽͞R҇̿̍̋!̓͛͂͠ E͑̂̃̕R̅͌͒͠Ơ̒R̃͌̽͡R̋̋͞!̽̆͞ Ȇ̊̚͠R̋̀͑̑͡Ȑ̀̎͝Ō̽͋̉̕R҇̎͌!̿͒̾͞ E̿͂̔̓̂̚̚͞R̓͑͆̕O͛̈̂͛͡R̛͐̐̀̉̐̇̓̎̈́R̿̈͑̿̇̈́͌́͆̀̇͝!҇̈́̎̑͂ E͑̅͗̽͂̐͞R̔͑̈̋̋͠O͑͆̅̇͞R͛̉̈̍̿͌̆̓̈́̚͡R̛̂̓͊̈!҇̃̽̀́͋͗͂ E̊͗͗̃͌̉͌̎͊̓͡R̆̾̆̿͛́͐͞Ṙ̛̆̎̎̒̉̾̐Ŏ̐̈̾͝R̾̽̆̍̄̽̔͆̄̿͠!̓̊̊̿͊͊̈́̃̊̕ E҇̍͛̓͋R҇̿̈́̌̿̄͗͌͂O҇̋̌͛͆̆̇R͌͛̔̏͐̾̏̚͝R͑̏̈́̋̒͑̒̑̓̈̑͠!͋̒̏̇̂̕ E̛̿̏̐̋̆̅̓R͊̿̓͋̒̏͑̕O҇̌̋͆̓̃R҇̊͑̿̿͒̏Ȓ̈̃͋̆͑̅͗͞!́͗͛̒͐͡ E͑͒̑̀̕R̓͗̌̂͂̈̉͞R̊͂͑̾̔́͠Ō̐̔͌́͒͐͊̈̒̕R͋͌̄͂͞!͋̋͆̄̐̈́͆̍̈̋͋̌̕ Ẽ̄̎̒̅͆͝R̄̾͊̎͡O҇̂̊͆̓̅̓͒͊R̿̿̋͌͞R̋̑͐̎͑͑̌̚͝!̑́̉̎̊͠ E͋̓̇͆̄̂̊͌̓̚̚͠R̛̎̎͆̽̉̓̒͗̚Ơ̿̄̍̀̽R̍̔͌̒̀̿͠R͌̂̑̈́̓̄͋͛̏͑͝!͌̋̓̾́͡ E҇͑̏̽̅̐͋̓̄R̀͆͒̅̔̉͂͐̕̚R̂̿͒̓̒͂̂̌͠Ǒ̑͑̎͠R͌̽̊̔̋̽͝!̾̈͆̑̔͗̐͒͒̔̈́̕ Ẻ̔̏̓̓͌̓̾̇̑̚͡R̛͊̇͑͒̇Ȍ̎͂̋̋̓̒̆̇̔͠R̀̄͑̾͝R͑͛̄͑͐̔̕!̏͛̽̋̔̾͠ E͒́̇̂̓̽͗́̑́͡Ȓ̃̆͋̑̓̄͡O̽͌̐̆͝R̉͛̿̽͝R҇̓͋̄͗̀̉̓̚!̃̿̅̈̑́̓̽̅̿͞ E̛͑̿̈́̉R̛̒̋͒͐̓R̐̋̐̌̎̐̿̀̊͝O̓̇̆͋͗͑̚͝Ȓ̾̉̿͗͊̅̕!̛͐̓̍͛̉̃͊̈́̽͛̓ E͑͆̈͒̽̈̇̾͝R̀̋̆̌̅͋̄͒͝Ȭ̒͒̅̎̇̚͡Ȑ̽̇͑͋́̏̈̽͞R̛̂̀̓̐̃͛̅͗̆̈́!̉̉̑̌̈́̒̍͛͛̚͞ E̛͗͗̀̓R̛̃̅̿͛͑̍Ơ͆̐͊̃̓R̄̈̄̃́̈͡Ȓ̊̆̔̆͠!̏̓̎̓͞ Ȇ̇͆͐͋̈́͠R̛̊̇́͒̓̾̚R̽̿̑͂̉͝Ơ̈͌́̒̾̎R҇̐̂̂͋͆͂̾͌́͒͊͐!̽͋̾͊̃͐̈̅̚͞ E̷̛͊͒̈́̏͌͊͐̏͐̿̒R̸͊̆̈́̓̑̆̿̅̾̇̉̃̏͗͠O҈̛̽͗̅̅̃̅̏́͒͋̄͂̑̑̓R̵͋̐̅̎͋͒̏͑̓̏͊͑̓̿̾̾͡R̴̛̈́̔̾̓͗̃̒̀̆̚̚!̷͛͑̉͂̆̂̂̌̀̐̊̿̉̚͞ Ê̸̎͒̽̈́̔̋͒͠R̵̎͐̐̅͐̑͒͋̉͞O҉͆̓̀͒͆͋͒̅̓̑͂̚͡R҉͊̓̓̋̌̐̒̈́̅͌͑̑̄͡R̶͆̀̂͂̓̾̀̃̅͊͝!̵͐̈͂͊̊́͛̓̿͡ E̴͗̌̓̃͊͌̏̿͛̍̂̍͛̐͂̚͠R̵͌̐̔̓͐̌̂̆͞R̷̾̎̓̐̏͌̅̏́̇̌̀́̍̚͞O҈̾̐̈́́̓̓͐́̓̍͠R̴̍͑̓̈͛̾̄̍̇̏̃͑̈́̅͡!̵̛̏̓̉̽̊̒́̑̀ Ȅ̷̾̿̓͐͗̄̂̄̕R҉̛̄̉͌͗̄̏͌̏͌Ỏ̶̏̉̃͊̆͆̄̾͒͂͐͂̑͑͝Ṙ̵̆͊̍̌͆͋̂͌̄̅̃͌͑͠R̸̆̑̈̓̓͑̍̈̾̾̀̂̐̇̑͡!̴҇̓͛͆́̒̆̈̎̇͐̓͐ Ë̸̌̾̈́̄̎͆̕R̵̿̐̄̉̇̍̈̓͐͊̓͋͝O҈̐͋̿̐̒̽̽̃̏̔̀̂͛̄͝R̷̓̉̐̉͌̈́͆̓͂́͠R̶̛̊̐̆̍̄͆̇̄͋͐͒!̵̾̉̍̿̈̒̏͋͋͠ E̸̓͛̑̈͛̌̈̔̕R̷̓͑͊͑̅͌͑̆̓̕̚R̷͛͋̓́̍̄͆̄͌͑͗͒̍̎͠O҉̀͒̽̽̈͗̾͗̋͂̓̋̍̇͡R̷͑̐̎͐͂̈͂̆̈́̋̃̈̚͡!̷̃͊̅̆́̏̏̅̏̂́̅̈͊̄̚͠ E̵̐̋͆̀̂̈̇͂͠R̴̾̏̈̐͛̈̿̔̌̍̃̒̐͝O̸͐̐̊͂̾͌̈́̾̄̽̃̐̕R҉̄̈̇̋̏̉́͋͂̍̕̚R̵̛͗̾̽̈́̈̅́͛̋̊̚!̷̛̐͂̂̔͛͆͐̈́̑̽̑͑̎͛̄ E̵҇̋̄́̌͌̓̏̉̔̀̀̚̚R̷̊̽̎̔͒́̏̕O̷̿̍̿͗̑̋̂͆͆̋̅͝R̸̍̄̒͋͌͗̋̓̾̎̀͡R̴̛̾̑̐͑͐̄̏̂̍͗̾̓̏!̸͗̾͂̈́̊̈́̊̔̆̓̿͑͝ E̸҇̅̓̓̏̔̆̊̇̐̚R̵͊̃̈̋̈͐̈̆̎̂̏̾̏̓͞R҈̛̾̆̒̐͌̇͌͆̄O̷҇͑̑̈̏̃̌̿̽̔R̵͆͋̀͆̀͋̌̚͠!̷̛̑́̑̓̿̔̓͂̍̾̚̚ E̸̍̊͌̊͆̊͂̽̌͛̐̓͠R̶̛͆̉̄̌̋͆̅̓̃͆̆͋̊͑̚O҉͂̋͊̅̎͌̀̉̾͝R҈̈́̊̊̏͆͛͊̚͞R̴͐̆͆͐̈́̔͌̆̈̃̔̾́̿͗͞!̶̊̅̋͊͋̄̊͒̓̈͞ E̴҇̊͐͊̋͌̄̅̑͆R̸̅̃͆̌͂̓̔͗̈̃́̀̓͝Ȯ̷̏͑̀́͛̔̚͠R̶̉̈́̽͑̋̓̈̍͝R҉̆̋̉̂̍͗̉̿̈͞!҈̿͆̐̋̄̐̇̊͋͆͞ E̶̅̑̑͗̓̈́̋̌̕Ȓ̵̓͊̋̈̍̍̉̚̚͞Ŕ̵͗̉̇̾̋̽̇̾̊͊͒̓͠O҉̛̌̋͂͋̀̾͛̎̒͑̈́̏͋R̷̛̃̽̎͗̅̾̓͐̊!̴̈́̓͗͋̐́͊̊̈́͊͆͊̎̚͠ E̴҇̏̍̇̽̇͑͛̇͂̒̅̍̚R̵̐̈́͒͑̏͋̐͞O҈̛̅̏͆̓̓̎͊͐̏R҉҇̉̉͊̓́̃̐̓̅̑̔̂̃̚R̸҇̈́͐͛͂̾̍̌̓!҉҇́̈́̐̽́́͆̓̏̈́͐̆̆͗ E̶͐̅̋̈̃͆͋̅̕R̵̓̃̏̑̋̽̐̋͝Ó̵͂̉̒̐͋̓̋̃̊̆̌̕̚R҉҇̐̔̃̑̓̆̓̑́̋̃͂R̵͊̐͊̿̓̓̉̑̈̑̓͛̀̆͝!̷̎̈͛̇̈̂͌͐͒͒͒͡ E̷͑̑̂̋̆̅̄̏̽͞R̸҇̇̈̋̅̑̊̎̚R̶̔̃̆̓̍́̽̿͞O̷͛̉̈͌̾́͂̆̆͞R̵͗̔̈̔̃͗͐͆̍̌͊̎̊̉͡!҈͗͋͒́͆̄̈̀͛͝ E̷͌̈́̒͒̊͂̆̎͡R̷̋̐̈́̑̅͌̓͂͂͑́̍̇̆̊͝Ȍ̷̍͋͋̓̓̈̔̽̾̒͠R̴̓̂̀̾̄͂̽̆̍͞R̶̔̏̆͒̿̓̔̔̌̑̌̌̎̕̚̚!҈҇͋̀̿̆͋͛̍̄̅͂̂͛͂̚ E̷҇̎͆̈́͛̈̽̽R̷̄̌̎͊͑̋̍̈̂͂̾̚͝O҉͋̌̆̂͆̐̏̊̓̄͐̕̚R҈̓̓̀͐̈́͛͆̍̓̈́͠R̶̓͋̍̋̄͐̾̓͞!̴̀́͂̿̾̀́̏̽̒͋̎̚͝ E҈͛͒̃̎̆̽͗̃̾̊̾̈́̕R̷̆̃̔́̌͛͗͆̊͗̾̍͞R̷̛̈͑̿̍̊̀̔̒̅̐̄O̴͛̈́̅̓̐̋̽̕Ŕ̴̓̄̇̓͌̃͐̋̑͠!̴̅͑͗̍͌̊̄́̌̀̎̈̚͡ E̷̐̐̉͆͌̽̈́̔͞R҈͗͆̓̈̿̈́͗̑̆͛̉̕O̵҇̿̈͒̎̿̃͒͑̾́̋̄̅R̷͒̏̄̇̀͗̂̓̅̈̆̚͞Ȓ̷̛̋̇͆̊̆͆̅̅͗́!҉͗̃̋̆̈́̒͛̑̿̓̏͌͡ E̶͒̄̀̇͌͒̑͝R̶҇̇͋̋̐̓̎̌̂͐O̵͂̒͗͂̌͌͌̑͂̎͠R̷̊̃̄̏͆̍̔̀͒̆̇̽̐̕R҉̓̂̿̓̅͆͛̌̾̑̈͒̿͗̂͡!̴̈́̋̊̉̅͊͊̑̍̾͋̍͒͊̇͡ E҉̑͑͗̃͒̓͆̌̈́̉̉͊͝R҈̛̋͌̽͑͗͌̂̋̔̑͗͋̆R̷҇̒̓̌̎̎̆̽̔̇̒͊̐̌͆͌̎Ơ̸̾͂͌̾̿̓̌̎̎͛̽R҈̏̏̂̃́̃͊̆̅̈͑̎͒̔͡!̶̋̏̆̀̐̽̔̽̕ E҉͂̊̈̃̇͒̈́͠R҉͌̌̒̇̀̿̋̌̒̍̐͞Ö̵͗͊̉̐̉̏̾̒̀̉́̈̃̚͞R҉͋̃͌̔̒̄̀͊̆͞R̸͑́̋̏͌̑̉͗̈́̋͊͊͆̚͝!̶̅̋̄̇̅͐̈́̇̓͒̉͒̕̚ E҉̽̌͒͊̎̓̿̋͐͑̒͐͐̓̕R̸̒͑͒̽̋͊̃̌̒͑͗̕O҈҇͋̌̓̒̓̎̄̆̍̓R̵̛̍͗̋̾͛͊͛͐̎̽͆̍̄͛R̸̔̀̿̄͐̋̆̎̒̐͝!҉̃̓̒̇̽͋̂͡ E̴̒̑̈̐̃̌͆̒̂̋̃́͝R̸̐̈́͑̍̎͆̏̑͌͐̈́͋̆̕R҉҇́̿͑̇̋͌̾̔̇̿̂O҉̛̄̇͑̄̄̃̐̈̇͋R҉͆͂̀̐̓̑̓̋̉̓̉͠!̴̛̆͗̉͛̃̀͌́̆̓͋̓̀

[System: She doesn't know about this place. But you were here. I saw you

"Wh-what?.. Who is she?.." Startled, Penelope swallowed a tight lump and tentatively stretched out her hand, pressing "yes", expecting anything.

Suddenly there was a knock on the door. Penelope jumped on the spot from the tension.

"Miss?" Emily's head was sticking out from behind the door, the maid was looking at her mistress anxiously. "Good morni-day... Can I come in?"
"Come in," straightening the slightly slipped blanket, Eckart let the girl into room. She tried to give her face a more natural look, deciding to think about what she saw later.
"How are you feeling?"

Penelope decided to ignore the question.
"Emily"
"Yes, miss?"
"What time is it?"
"Noon," the maid replied softly. "I came to wake you up early in the morning, but you were unwell and had a slight fever. Since His Grace did not insist on your presence at breakfast, I did not wake you up".
"Of course," closing her eyes, the girl relaxed slightly, if her father did not demand her presence at breakfast and did not ask to inform her to come to him, everything was not as bad as it seemed.

"Wait a minute," Eckart pondered. "I left a solemn holiday without his knowledge, and even alone… He would certainly be displeased and would demand my explanation. Why wouldn't he expect me at breakfast...?"

"Emily, does father know that I am unwell?"
"Ah..." the girl became nervous under the attentive gaze of her miss. "I think the butler told him about your… Injury."
"Just about injury? Or about something else?"
"Unfortunately, I do not know, miss, the butler only informed that you will need to change the bandages several times a day and observe bed rest."

Penelope sighed wearily.

"I'm sorry, miss, I couldn't find out more, the head maid left early this morning, having handed out errands to all the servants. I'm the only one left without a case. I don't understand why at all...."
"You have nothing to do with it", she waved away. "If my father didn't demand my presence, then nothing serious happened while I was sleeping."

"Who am I trying to fool! Something clearly happened while I was sleeping, and this something can turn into a nightmare at any moment!", Penelope frantically speculated what could have happened and how it would come out for her.

"Should I prepare a bath and ask for breakfast?"
"Just a bath, I don't want to eat".
"But, miss, you don't-"
"Emily, I don't think I asked you to argue with me?" Eckart snorted wearily. "Just a bath".
"As you wish".

"Just the thought that I need to eat makes me sick," Penelope got out of bed and slowly walked over to the table, deciding to comb her hair herself while the maid was getting water.

"Emily," calling her maid, Penelope continued to gently sort through her curls, glancing sideways at the reflection to see the reaction.
"Yes, miss?" coming out of the bath, the girl carefully looked at the lady's back.
"Who carried me to my room?"
"Ah, young master Reynold. If I understood correctly, you fainted in his arms, that's..."
"Did you hear our conversation?"
"No..." she said, shaking her head in frustration. "I wouldn't eavesdrop without your knowledge."
"Okay," deciding not to torment Emily anymore, Penelope finished the interrogation and continued brushing her hair, delving into her own thoughts, which she hardly wanted to enlighten anyone.

When all the morning procedures were over, Emily helped to make an uncomplicated hairstyle and change into a simple dress. Since the lady didn't need anything else, she took her leave and left the apartment.

Being bedridden due to injury, Eckart had no choice but to find something to do within her room. Left alone with herself, Penelope decided to think through a thorough plan. Pulling out the bottom drawer of the bedside table, she took out a book in which she kept her little notes about re-passing, what is important to do, when and why.

"I urgently need to come up with a plan of action before Yvonne gets home, otherwise..."

"I didn't know you were such a big fan of sleeping".

Penelope almost dropped the book from her hands when she heard her brother's impudent voice. She hadn't expected to see him after yesterday, and even so soon.

Usually, after their "soulful conversations", the guy avoided her for several days and tried not to have eye contact with her even at a shared lunch or dinner.

"Did you want something?" without saying hello, she asked.
"Yes, I wanted to", taking a chair near the desktop and dragging it to the bed, the young man sat down. "To talk. About yesterday".
"I think I said everything yesterday, what else can we talk about?"
"About what you told me yesterday, of course," he rolled his eyes.

Penelope looked at him carefully, not imagining what he had thought up that he needed help, and did not want to. His arguments and conclusions could bring even father to hysteria, let alone her.

"And I don't want to, so please don't interfere with my reading and leave the room".
"Such an interesting book?"
"Yup, I can't tear myself away".

Eckart got up from his seat and reached for the book, snatched it out of sister's hands and put it on the bedside table.
"Is it not so interesting now?"
"What are you doing?" Penelope snorted indignantly. "You burst into my room as soon as I woke up, you demand to talk about something and being refused, like a child, you start acting up! How old are you? Ten?"
"What can I do if my sister does not know how to be naughty, but only to push and argue".

"I just..." after a long silence, Reynold finally spoke without taking his eyes off the floor "I can't believe it".
"Сan't believe what?"
"What… Well, what are you..." he scratched his head in confusion, "Well, you understand".

"Understand what? That I had sex before him? Or what it was with the Crown Prince? Found something to be offended about," she wondered.

"Do you think I should jump with happiness and run on the ceiling?"
"No, no! You know, when you see all these expectant moms, they are constantly sitting, eating and cherishing the idea of how a custom-made outfit for a child would be perfect. And... well… They have a huge belly," he looked askance at his sister's stomach, silently drawing a parallel with the described image. "You look the same as usual".

"The fact that I have not yet died from malnutrition and poor health is the merit of the system, not my physical peculiarity, moron" Penelope wanted to snort, but refrained, looking expressively at her brother.

"Don't look at me like that!" Eckart was offended and indignant. "How was I supposed to know what it looks like before the belly grows?"
"Well," pursing her lip, Penelope tried to smile, but it turned out to be pure mockery. "Perhaps our father should be glad that you haven't found a mate yet".
"Who would have told me that," offended Reynold leaned on a chair, folding his hands in front of him. "It's too early for me to think about such things".

"Because you're still such a kid," she chuckled kindly, relaxing slightly. The atmosphere has become at least a little, but freer. The tension in the room, which had been building up since last night, was no longer felt so strongly. "However, I'm not much different from him either. But am I ready?"

Family is the most difficult and unloved topic that Siyeon rarely touched on. If it were not for certain circumstances, she would hardly have brought up this conversation at all, trying to avoid by all means the mere mention of this word.

But what is the result? An attempt to escape from the problem and her experiences led her to where it all started. From her story, from her tragedy and from her pain — from her birth.

"I look like my mom," she mused. "Without a future, without money, with poor health, I am waiting for a miracle, which cannot be".

Come to think of it, mom was also quite young by Korean standards when she got pregnant with her. A young intern in a monopolistic company with the prospect of getting a good job, moving to a more prestigious area at one point loses everything because of an affair with the boss. Her family turns away from her after learning about the pregnancy, ashamed and not wanting a thick shadow of shame to fall on the whole family.

A young stupid girl who has lost everything, with a small child in her arms.

"I wonder what she dreamed about then?" Penelope thought wistfully, remembering with what warmth she treated her. "For sure, she had her own dreams and desires that she would like to fulfill. Wasn't she shattered and upset by the realization that she would never be able to achieve them? She didn't think it was unfair and unfair?.. Why didn't she ever get angry and take it out on me because of this?.. Even after losing her job and career prospects, she always took care of me and loved me, even when I did not meet her expectations in school ... will I be able to do that?.. Will I be able, looking at my child, to be the same mother?"

"What are you thinking about?"
"About me," Penelope said wearily. Inside, the blurry image of mother made tingle unpleasantly. What was it like for her to raise a small child alone, not knowing what would happen to her next? If she had known how it would end, she would have become...
"I'm not judging you, okay?" said Reynold. "Just because I'm joking like that doesn't mean you've become trash."
"I know."
"Well, like... huh?"
"If you considered me an ignoble brat, which you considered me to be for almost eight years, then you definitely wouldn't be sitting here and crucifying yourself. I know, Reynold. I have something to compare it with, believe me," she replied monotonously."Even if you treated me like that, I wouldn't be too upset."

"When Yvonne shows up, you'll turn your back on me anyway. Therefore, I do not expect anything good from you, except honesty, in this, you are not changed," looking into her brother's strained eyes, Penelope recalled those skirmishes and stupid accusations that he poured out on her like dirt.

This was the whole Reynold, hot-tempered and touchy, but extremely honest and sincere in his words.

Expecting another angry comment in her direction, Penelope looked indifferently at his face in order to have time to notice a sharp change in mood, but saw only wrinkled eyebrows and tense cheekbones. It was as if he wanted to say what was on his tongue, but was afraid to say it out loud.

"I don't think you're trash, okay? Even if you brought a crossbow to the tea party again and shouted something, I wouldn't consider you shit."
"Probably because I did something worse than screaming like a macaque with a crossbow?"

He grinned, clearly content with a silly joke, Penelope also could not resist and barely audibly laughed.

"I... am amazed at how you can so easily pretend that nothing happened, as if what happened was an everyday occurrence."
"Isn't that right?" she shrugged her shoulders. "Your stupid sister had a fight with her lover, got drunk and went home, then threw a tantrum and passed out in your arms, isn't it my style to do this? You could get used to it."

Reynold looked up and thoughtfully tried to drill a hole in it.

"No, I was living with a stranger I didn't know anything about. More precisely, I thought I knew everything about she, but it turned out that I didn't, I don't know anything and I don't understand. The Penelope I knew wouldn't cry like that in front of me, wouldn't try to hide from everyone and hide, she would...", he rubbed his face with a slightly sweaty hand. "I don't know, she probably wouldn't be in this situation, but... now I live with you and it's a little hard."

"Because I'm not Penelope, I'm a different person… It's amazing that he sees this and doesn't realize how close he is to the truth" thought she.

"No one has ever spoken so eloquently about my rotten character".
"Oh, fuck you," Reynold snorted."You can joke as much as you like, I'll tell you what I think anyway. I've been up all night trying to digest everything we talked about yesterday, and until I say it, I'm not leaving here."
"Do you have indigestion? So you need to go to the bathroom, and not throw everything out through your mouth."
"Penelope! Well, I'm serious! Stop trying to get away from the topic and pretend that what happened yesterday was your spontaneous prank, it has already ceased to be funny. I tried to approach the topic carefully, but I've had enough."

Penelope froze tensely, not knowing what to expect from such a change in mood.

"Look at you," he took one of her hands and was able to easily wrap his palm around her hand. "You're terribly thin, so thin that I can easily wrap my arm around your arm. You haven't eaten and haven't eaten for a very long time, have you seen your face? You have huge bags under your eyes, you look like a real ghost."

Eckart wanted to say something in her own defense, but her brother stopped her, interrupting:

"I don't want to lose you too, don't you understand?" he squeezed her hand. "I have only one sister left — the only one that I will have. And I can't watch you kill yourself because of..."
"Love? Was it there at all?" the girl said indifferently. "Reynold, I don't want you to feel sorry for me or think that I need someone to feel sorry for me. I don't need it."
"Everyone needs someone to support in a difficult moment," he argued. "And you need help too."

She snorted with displeasure.

"I just drank too much yesterday and that's it, it wasn't sincere tears."
"You didn't smell like alcohol. I'm sure you haven't taken a drop in your mouth. Maybe you can't really take care of yourself, but you wouldn't drink knowing about your situation. You're not that dumb."
"I'll take it as a compliment from the most uncouth knight of the empire."

Reynold rolled his eyes back.

"Do you really think that if you constantly push me away, I will get angry and leave?"
"I hope so," she honestly admitted.
"I'm not leaving," he replied."Because I know why you're doing this, and you can at least pour shit from head to toe — I won't budge."
"And why would I pour shit on you?"
"You're afraid."

The grin on Penelope's face disappeared.

"Afraid of what? You?"
"Everything," the brother replied in frustration. "You're afraid that I'll tell everyone about your secret. You're afraid that father will brush you off and leave you to the mercy of fate. You are afraid that older brother will put you under house arrest for many years again and you will again languish within four walls, not knowing where to go."
- ...
"You're afraid to die like your mother."

— Siyeon, — the mother's cold fingers touched the cheek swollen from tears. — Mommy loves you, but it's time for mommy to leave.

"Enough!" Penelope jerked as if from a blow, remembering the horrifying picture — her dying mother, thin, terribly pale, looking more like a corpse than a person. "Get out."
"That's why-"
"Reynold, I said "enough" is enough! Go away!"

He abruptly released her hand and stood up, turning his back.

"Damn it! Are you angry with yourself because of a stupid decision? What to do! It so happened, we have what we have, there is no way back! You can't turn back time and change what happened! That's it! Yes, you did a stupid thing, messing with this jerk, inventing an idiotic fairy tale for yourself! What did your father tell you? Don't mess around! Have nothing to do with him! Finally, remember what he did at the first meeting? He almost killed you! Killed! Have you forgotten?! And you fell for his sweet words and cute face! And what is the result?!"

When Reynold turned around, Penelope was absently wiping away unbidden tears, trying to pretend that his words did not hurt her at all.

"No, I'm not..." he hurriedly returned to her, sitting on the bed. - "Lord, I didn't mean that, I'm sorry, I... I meant something else, I have such a mess in my head because of lack of sleep that I completely started from the wrong. Penelope..."
"What's going on here?!"suddenly the door burst open and the duke burst into the room, disheveled and angry as hell.
"Oh.. dad..."
"Did I make it clear to you not to bother your sister?" hearing a painfully familiar voice, Penelope hid her face in her hands like a child, trying to hide her shame."Look what you've done again, you've brought her to tears."
"No, I'm not..."
"Go to your room and don't come out until I call you," the duke commanded. "Did you hear me, Reynold?"
"No, dad, wait, I'm-"
"Reynold." the man said in a stricter tone. "I need to talk to your sister, face to face. Your presence here will be superfluous, and I think I have already explained why".

Reynold cast a questioning glance at Penelope. She was still trying to hide the traces of her unbidden tears behind her skinny palms, completely ignoring his pathetic attempts to stay. Muttering something under his breath, he turned around and left the room, leaving the enraged duke alone with sister.