Chapter Text
Penelope had no energy to resist when rough hands grabbed her and forced her to her knees. Lifting her head to stare at the people standing in front of her, she knew no amount of begging or pleading would save her. It would all fall on deaf ears. Her emotionless turquoise eyes scrutinized the self-righteous men.
The foul-mouthed, hot-headed second son of the Duke and the cold, apathetic first son. Always finding fault, always blaming her. In their eyes, she was nothing more than an insolent beggar who was undeservingly given their name. A poor replacement for their beloved little sister.
The slave from a fallen country turned gifted knight and sword Master. He was her escort not long ago, but he swore his loyalty and devotion to Eckhart's ever-so precious lady. Penelope was once again alone with no one on her side.
The Marquis with a magical secret that he hides behind a white rabbit mask. They were barely more than strangers, only sharing the briefest encounters. And yet his choices were the catalyst that would ultimately push her to death’s door.
The shamelessly violent Crown Prince who always seemed to shine. She couldn’t deny that she was entranced by him at first sight. She couldn’t explain where the thought came from, but if she could get closer to him, her wounded heart may finally be at ease. She should have known better.
Foolish Penelope.
When the Crown Prince unsheathed his sword and moved towards her, she didn’t flinch. She was too focused on her reflection in his blade. What a pitiful, pathetic sight. When he’s standing in front of her, she looks up at blazing crimson eyes.
“What are you waiting for? Kill me.” Her voice remained steady, her eyes never left his. If she was going to die, she was going to do it with as much dignity as she could.
The blade rose and as it swung down, Penelope’s last thought was, ‘I should have never let you into my heart.'
*****
Penelope stopped counting her deaths long ago. So many lifetimes, yet all with the same ending. Her supposed fate never changes, but she does. No longer naïve, no longer ignorant or impulsive. She learns to be impassive and clever. She stops yearning for love from a family. She becomes accustomed to her lonely and even finds some comfort in it. Her brittle, battered heart is hardened and locked away. She has experienced enough pain from that damn organ.
*****
“You called for me, Duke?” Penelope asked, standing in front of his office. It’s been a while since the Duke summoned her. There was no need since she’s been living quietly, rarely venturing out of her room.
“Penelope, come sit.” He gestured to the seat across from him.
As she sat, she quietly observed the older man. Much like his eldest son, he often gave off an aloof feeling when he wasn’t giving her a scolding or expressing disapproval at her conduct. But at the moment, he looked slightly troubled.
“Penelope,” He paused, unsure how to proceed. “Have you had any contact with the Crown Prince?”
“The Crown Prince?” Her eyebrows furrowed slightly. Where was this conversation going? “I have not. Why do you ask?”
The Duke stared at her for several silent seconds, as if he was searching for something in her expression. “I’ve received a letter from the Crown Prince. He has expressed an interest in an engagement with you.”
Penelope blinked, doubting her ears. “What?”