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Chapter Text

Callisto Regulus, Crown Prince of the Empire and golden ball of fury, slammed the trial room doors open with a might that elicited gasps from the uppity nobles cowering behind the banisters.

His burning red eyes immediately fell on Penelope Eckart, to which she flinched, and his shoulders slackened in relief, but his face furrowed deeper in anger.

“What is this farce of a trial?! Penelope Eckart, tried for attempted assassination of the Crown Prince and attacking seven innocent noblemen? I was with the princess, and she saved me from the assassins! If anything, she should be rewarded!” He pointed to the guardsmen at Penelope’s side. “Release her, NOW!”

The guards shouted, “Yes, Your Highness!” and rushed to get the wizard that enchanted the rope binding her wrists.

The judge, in a feat of courage, spoke, “Greetings to the Sun of the Empire." The noblemen and the servants present murmured in chorus, regaining their bearings.

He continued, "It is good to see you are well, Your Highness. On behalf of the nobility, I apologize for Penelope Eckart’s indictment. Seven noblemen claimed she attacked them with her crossbow, and with no choice but to rely on their testimonies and limited evidence, she was prosecuted. Lady Eckart just provided her testimony but lacked corroborating testimony until Your Highness arrived.”

Callisto huffed. “It’s not you who should apologize, but rather the imbeciles who dared accuse the princess of a crime she didn’t commit, and the treasonous assassins who made attempts on the lives of both the Crown Prince and Eckart princess.” 

“That makes punishment more straightforward, as they are one and the same,” the princess interjected, utilizing the prince’s unexpected entrance against the real perpetrators.

A narrowly discernible grin flit across his lips, and the gauge above his head flickered to forty-five. “If the lady says as much. Arrest them,” he ordered.

Marquis Allen protested, “But, the trial-”

The judge intervened, “This is the trial of Penelope Eckart for the alleged crime of the attempted assassination of the Crown Prince, and the Crown Prince himself has testified to her innocence and to the identity of the imperial assassins. What trial is there to continue?” Any other protests from the nobility were quickly shut down by the guards’ swords and the judge’s gavel. “Case dismissed.”

The imperial guards hauled the seven noblemen to the imperial dungeon in handcuffs, followed by a sobbing Lady Kellen and furious Marquis Allen. Penelope had to suppress her urge to smirk. The imperial wizard arrived and undid the spell on Penelope’s binds.

“Penelope!” the Duke of Eckart exclaimed, racing to join his liberated daughter on the defendant’s bench. He scowled. “The audacity of those miscreants to frame an Eckart for imperial assassination!” He shook his head. “They’ll be punished severely for this.” He placed his hand on her shoulder and smiled gently. “But what’s most important is that you’re safe.”

She smiled in return. “Thank you, father.” 

Derrick, who trailed behind him, interjected, “Yes, it is fortunate the Crown Prince awoke to testify.” At the reference to his title, Penelope peeked over at Callisto, who was talking to the judge. His red eyes met hers, inducing a nervous feeling in her chest that she couldn’t distinguish. She was awoken from her stupor by Derrick’s cool tone, “His backing clears your name, preserving the Eckart reputation.” He hesitated, but ultimately remarked, “You’ve done well, Penelope.”

She had to restrain herself from glaring, starkly aware of the twenty-nine floating above his head and the Duke she’d worked so hard to impress right beside him. “Thank you, but I don’t deserve credit for the result of the trial. I was innocent from the start, so it was obvious that this would be the outcome.” 

His face stiffened. “Penelope-”

“If you’ll both excuse me, I need to speak to the Crown Prince.” 

Penelope pivoted on the ball of her foot, preparing to walk away, but the Duke impeded, “Wait! Is it true- what you said earlier? About you and the Crown Prince?” She stilled, unresponsive. “But, Penelope… that lunatic slit your neck-!”

Derrick hissed, “Don’t speak such words of His Highness! Someone could overhear!”

The Duke silenced at that, and both Eckarts had no choice but to watch as Penelope strolled over to the most fearsome man in the empire, irreverent to their objections.

Penelope couldn’t believe she was avoiding Derrick (well, that part was believable) by willingly interacting with Callisto, of all people. But, she glanced at the favorability gauge above his head… 45%, making him significantly more favorable than Derrick, and the most favorable target character after Eckles… 

This game really was crazy.

The prince saw her awkwardly lingering nearby and ended his exchange with the judge to join her. 

Reacquainted with his intimidating disposition, she began to regret intentionally seeking out the scary bastard and hurriedly strode towards the doors instead, but her short legs were no match for his long strides. She sighed, resolving herself to conversing with him, and fell back to a normal pace. The twinkle of amusement in his eyes at her failed attempt at avoiding him was embarrassing. She didn’t know what else to say, so she simply stated, “Thank you,” as they exited the trial room in unison and paired it with a minimally polite smile.

He grinned. “No need to thank me. It’s the least I could do since you didn’t leave me to die in the middle of the forest.”

She shrugged with a neutral expression. “I’m a pacifist. I don’t think of killing or saving anyone one way or the other. I just don’t like to see death and violence.” 

“Hah... and here I thought you still had feelings for me, begging me not to die in the cave in a state of undress,” he teased.

His remark reminded her of what she’d just alleged in the trial, and she flinched, increasingly aware of the whispers and stares directed at the two of them. Disregarding his teasing, she murmured, “Your Highness, do you mind if we discuss somewhere more… private?” 

Callisto raised an eyebrow, but responded, “Sure, follow me,” and led her towards the hallway. He then leaned in and whispered with a characteristically cocky smirk, “But if you want to get me alone, just say so next time.”

She reddened, shying away from the lips beside her ears. Embarrassed he’d thrown off her composure, she forced a scoff. Want to be alone with the crazy bastard who tried to kill her? Never! “No,” Not without a reason. “I just don’t want to be subject to even more gossip…” she trailed off, turning to glance at the whispering nobility far behind them. She absolutely could not let him overhear the bullshit she had conjured up. He would have her head.

“If you say so,” he responded disinterestedly.

They arrived at the door of Callisto’s choice… a bedroom, to Penelope’s stupefaction. By its size and regality, she inferred it was his (although it was surprisingly bare), which made her a little uncomfortable. “Why did you bring me here, Your Highness? I was serious the past several times I said I no longer have feelings for you.”

He guffawed. “I know you think I’m handsome, but what kind of indecent thoughts are you entertaining?” He sauntered across the room, no trace of impropriety in his countenance. To Penelope’s shock, he practically collapsed onto the bed. “I didn’t want to let those throne-hungry bastards know, but I’m still in bad shape.”

She hadn’t noticed because of his haughty demeanor, but upon closer inspection, his skin was sallow, his brow glistened with sweat, and his lips were pale. He appeared feverish, as if he might descend into unconsciousness at any moment. She hastily shut the door, dragged a chair beside his bed, and took to checking his pulse and temperature. “In this condition, you should be resting! What were you doing up and about!?” she admonished, exhaling in relief when she concluded his vitals were stable.

He silently met her eyes as if his condition and her doting were nothing, but in those very eyes was poorly hidden delight that she was worried about him. “My assistant informed me of the trial, and I had to ensure your safety.”

She spluttered, “W-Why?”

The look he gave her trumped all his previous ones in the level of ‘huh, are you stupid?’ conveyed via facial expression. “You saved me. First from the assassins, then from dying of poison in the middle of the forest. Hell, I might’ve died in that cave if you hadn’t known that transport magic. Do I seem like such an indecent guy that I’d let you die after doing all that for me?”

“Well, you did try to kill me…” she mumbled.

He rolled his eyes. “Tch, are you still upset about that?" He ridiculed, "I don’t know why I need to repeat myself, but I wasn't going to kill you. I have no intention of letting you be executed, much less to cover the asses of those treasonous ingrates!”

“Then promise.”

“Huh…?” he drawled.

She clarified, as if it were obvious, “That you won’t kill me.” He stared at her blankly. “During the trial, you said that I deserve a reward for saving you.” She paused, studying his expression for indication that it’d been genuine. At the slow bob of his head, she continued, “This is what I want. Promise you won’t kill me.”

He gaped; his mouth hung open in bafflement. “Other young nobles would ask for gold or knighthood, yet you want to waste a reward of choice from the Crown Prince on something so useless?”

She shrugged, her aloof personality on display. “A near-death experience really sticks with a person.” She recalled the incident the prince had described, where he was almost murdered by a bear and a band of assassins at age ten and how he’d suffered many similar encounters since. Maybe he wouldn’t be so sympathetic to her excuse. But she continued, “I was really scared. And then I was sick, bedridden with metal poisoning for weeks. I don’t want to repeat that experience.”

“And you’re sure that’s all it is?” he asked. She nodded. “So, the nobles weren’t gossiping about some nonsense you blabbered in court that could make me angry?” 

She flinched. Staring into his penetrating red eyes, she reminded herself that despite his laidback attitude, Callisto was as sharp as a hawk. “O-Of course not,” she lied.

He leaned in, causing a rapid spike in her heartbeat. She told herself it was because he was scrutinizing her poker face, but a small voice in the back of her head didn’t believe it. He backed away, satisfied with his assessment, and deadpanned, “You’re a strange one, princess.” She gazed at him imploringly. He huffed. “But sure. It’s not a difficult thing to promise.”

She was absolutely beaming, with the happiest and most genuine smile he’d ever seen from her. “You really promise? You won’t kill me?”

He restrained the laughter threatening to escape his throat at her absurdity. “Yes, I swear on my name, Callisto Regulus, Crown Prince of the Empire, that I won’t kill you, Penelope Eckart, daughter of the Duke of Eckart.” He made a show of half-bowing despite the difficulty and collapsed back onto the pillow midway, to which Penelope was immediately at his side, ready to tend to him. 

Upon confirmation that he was in stable condition, she backed away. “Thank you!” The dazzling smile on her face bolstered the sentiment.

He snorted. “Do I really seem like such a blood-thirsty monster to you, that you’re so excited I’ve promised not to kill you?” 

Her silence spoke for itself. 

“Tch. You’re lucky because if not for that promise, I could have your head for insulting a member of the imperial family this instant,” he remarked, but it lacked the usual bite in his vulnerable state.

She retorted, “Which demonstrates exactly why it was a smart choice.”

He silently rolled his eyes in lack of a good response.

Having attained the reward she wanted, she rose to leave, but he snatched her hand. “Where are you going?”

She blinked in confusion. “Huh?" She blabbered, "I mean, you should rest, and I should grab the doctor, after you pulled that stunt, getting out of bed and running all the way to the courtroom like that; you really don't think sometimes-”

He tugged at her fingers. “Stay.”

She plopped back onto the chair, knowing it was best to obey despite his promise. His hand lingered in hers, so she took the liberty of releasing it.

“You should stay here.”

Her face contorted in bewilderment. “What?”

“At the Palace, for the duration of the hunting competition,” he clarified.

“Why?”

He sighed, his expression serious, a rarity for him. “Unfortunately, princess, you’ve made a lot of enemies today. While no one would dare try anything at the Eckart dukedom, I can't say the same for the temporary Eckart lodging.” 

“And you’re just willing to let me stay in the huge, fancy palace for free?” she questioned.

He replied casually, “Sure. Why not? There are plenty of unused rooms; it's a waste if you ask me. Consider it another reward for saving the life of a member of the imperial family.”

She grimaced. “I appreciate the offer, but I don't think my father would be happy to hear I received a personal invitation to stay in the palace from you.” At his questioning look, she fibbed, “Uh- because of what you did on the second prince’s birthday.”

He answered flippantly, “To hell with what he thinks. Your safety is more important.”

She pursed her lips. She couldn't argue with that; it had been her mantra since she arrived in this world.

He was right. The threat wasn’t vanquished with the imprisonment of those lower-ranked noblemen. While she felt relatively safe, the limited security and potentially hostile nobility nearby wasn't ideal. Nor was the game’s protection reassurance; she didn’t trust the system as far as she could throw it. And she wasn't looking forward to the eldest Eckart’s constant presence for the next several days. 

She exhaled, relenting, “Okay. I accept. I’ll stay here until the hunting competition ends.” He grinned and gestured for her to say more, so she reluctantly added, “...Thank you.”

Still grinning, he responded, “You’re very welcome, princess. Fetch Cedric, my assistant; he’ll get a room prepared for you. And tell him I said to come here.” 

She nodded and arose, preparing to leave. “I’ll be sure to ask for a doctor too,” she noted, poking fun at his tough-guy act. She asserted more sincerely, “Make sure to get some rest, Your Highness. You’re in terrible shape.”

He nodded, and she tried to ignore the clear delight in his eyes at her concern, telling herself what a conceited bastard he was, getting a kick out of being attended to (but a small part of her liked to imagine it was because it was her). She shook her head to remove the intrusive thoughts, then after a brief pause, expressed, “And I really should say thank you again. For- well, everything.”

The haughty crown prince grinned with as much energy as his frail body could muster. “If you’re so grateful, then fall for me again.”

She rolled her eyes. Here she was, trying to be nice for once, and this arrogant bastard had to go and tease her. But she couldn’t feel anything but pity for his half-dead face. So, instead of insisting that her mind was made up like she the last several times, she remarked playfully, “Maybe if you turn into a stack of precious minerals, I’ll fall deeply in love with you. But seeing as that’s not in your future, it seems my heart is set. Or need I repeat myself?”

He chortled. “I’ll get the palace magicians on it, and you’ll regret saying that…” It was hard to take his threat seriously when his eyes were barely open.

“I’m looking forward to it when you awake. Rest now, Your Highness. I’ll fetch Cedric and the doctor.” She closed the curtains and exited the room, heading to locate the forenamed persons. 

Callisto fell into a peaceful slumber, dreaming of turquoise eyes and magenta locks, and Penelope couldn’t get the fifty percent and those piercing red eyes out of her mind.

Chapter Text

After transporting her luggage from the Eckart lodging to the palace and having a brief encounter with Reynold, Penelope spent the night in the palace, at the prince's request. 

Dinner at the palace was delicious. The food was better than a five-star restaurant’s (or so she thought; the best she'd ever really had was her mom's cooking). Her meal had courses. After suffering the machinations of the Eckart kitchen staff for weeks, it was as if a deity had blessed her taste buds. Even the food on the duke’s plate wasn’t as ornate as what the palace chefs served her. The lack of other guests combined with her status as the personal guest and savior of the crown prince had the palace staff treating her like a princess.

Along with generous meals, the accommodations were exceptional. Her room was massive, with a closet even larger than the one the Duke had specially enlarged for Penelope’s frivolous purchases. The bed was the most comfortable thing she’d ever laid on, and she didn’t subconsciously fear waking up to a stinging pain in her arms. That night she got the best sleep she had in weeks.

After the palace maids dressed her, brushed her hair, and she ate a tasty breakfast, she beelined for the library (at Cedric's suggestion). 

She felt guilty attending the hunt when she was the reason the prince was bedridden, so she decided to stay behind while he recovered. (It of course had absolutely nothing to do with the fancy bed and food and princess treatment.) That and she didn’t want to face the onslaught of gossip that’d affront her upon leaving her little bubble of amenity. 

She was also excited by the prospect of an imperial library; it had to be grand.

And it was. It was massive.

The long, winding staircase linked each of the seven floors; towering ladders gave access to lofty shelves; and the ample shelves stored an immense number of books. She was in book heaven. 

She was startled from her literature-induced reverie by a teasing voice, “Hello, princess. Or should I say… my beloved? Care to have another secret meeting?” 

She whirled around and came face to face with a crown prince that was much too chipper for the morning… and his sickly condition. She frowned at the sight of his pale skin, but his words distracted her. Someone must’ve disclosed the lies she’d told in court. Her anxiety initially spiked, but the sight of his fifty-two percent favorability eased her fear. If it’d increased, she couldn’t be in too much trouble. However, out of an abundance of caution, she curtsied and respectfully said, “Greetings to the Sun of the Empire.” She maintained her bow. “I apologize for misleading the nobility, Your Highness. I needed to explain our meeting in the forest to combat Marquess Allen's falsfications, and I surmised that coincidence wasn’t compelling enough.” 

She was going to continue listing off excuses, but he waved it off. “Spare me the pleasantries,” he declared. She tensed but dared to lift her gaze, surprised by how relaxed his expression was. “I understand,” he expressed, and she sighed in relief. “You’ve fallen back in love with me, and the story you told in court was your interpretation of our meeting in the forest.” She stared at him blankly. “I was your knight in shining armor, saving you from a terrifying bear and taking a poisoned dagger for you like a hero in the lady’s romance novels,” he asserted, flashing a confident smirk and posing as if he were one of those very heroes. 

She rolled her eyes, slackening her curtsy to stand naturally. He wasn’t threatening to send her to the dungeon for perjury, but this was arguably worse. “No, as I’ve said, my mind doesn’t change once it’s been made up,” she responded coldly.

He haughtily corrected, “Unless I can convince the palace magicians to turn me into a pile of precious jewels.”

She regretted ever giving him an inch. “I’m fairly certain that’s impossible.”

He paused for a moment, then offered, “What if I were to empty the palace treasury for you? Would that suffice?”

“No, that’d be irresponsible,” she asserted, crossing her arms to signify just how ridiculous she thought he was. “And it’d sabotage your chances of ascension.”

The prince contended, “You’d spend it on jewelry and clothes, so it’d stimulate the economy.” His shoulders rose and fell in nonchalance. “I’d be doing the kingdom a favor, really.”

She snorted, her breath blowing curled magenta strands off her face. “See if the peasants say that when they’re banging on the palace door and the guards have mutinied.”

He explained calmly, “We’ll bribe them all. We have the entire treasury,” he pointed out.

She arched an eyebrow in challenge. “What makes you think there’d be a ‘we’?”

“Hah…” he drawled. “I’ve given you the entire palace treasury, and you won’t even use it to protect me from an angry mob?”

“You’d deserve it,” she deadpanned, but the twitch of her lips exposed her amusement at the strange scene they’d concocted. At his depressed look, she paused and commented, “I suppose I might keep you around to use as a meat shield.” She glanced at the holster resting above his waist. “And for your swordsmanship.”

He huffed. “So, what, I’d just be relegated to your knight after I gifted you the entire treasury?”

She nodded unabashedly.

He urged, “I must at least get a kiss from the princess as her knight in shining armor?”

She rebuffed with a practiced roll of the eyes, “No, not even a ‘thank you.’” 

He shook his head, chortling. “Remind me never to entrust you with anything valuable.”

She smirked, trying (and failing) to hide it. “You were the one who wanted to give me the treasury, even though I told you it was irresponsible.”

He winked. “My princess deserves the best.”

Her heart skipped a beat. ‘My’ princess. She bit the inside of her lip, willing her heart to calm down, and turned to hide her tinted cheeks and recompose herself. “Well, as much as I’m enjoying this riveting conversation,” She channeled as much sarcasm as she could into ‘riveting’. “I came here to take advantage of the library, so I intend to do that.”

He frowned quizzically. “What about the hunt?”

She paused and turned to face him. “Well, you’re staying here, aren’t you?” she asked, intoning it as more of a statement than a question.

He shook his head. “I can’t miss such an important event after pretending to have recovered yesterday. It would be seen as disrespectful to the Empire’s guests and tradition.”

She huffed. “But you’re clearly still not completely healed.” She gestured to his pale face. “Just announce that you aren’t attending today to tie up the investigation,” she advised. “You can work without physically exerting yourself, unlike hunting, and it’s a reasonable explanation for the nobility and foreign emissaries.”

“Did Cedric put you up to this?” he inquired bemusedly.

She shook her head. “No, he hasn’t said much of anything to me.”

“Then I see why the nobles think we’re in a relationship. You act like a worried lover,” he teased.

She turned her chin in defiance. “Anyone would be worried, with your propensity for not taking care of yourself!” She turned to face him. “Nevertheless, I’m staying behind today, and so should you. I want Marquis Allen and his co-conspirators behind bars,” she demanded.

He chuckled. “Yes, My Lady.”

She was momentarily stunned; she hadn’t expected him to listen to her or refer to her subserviently. But a quick look at his fatigued, pale complexion, told her that probably he wanted an excuse to stay back. She tucked a lock of hair behind her ear, unsure of why she suddenly felt a little nervous, and commented, “Well, I wish Your Highness luck in the investigation.”

In stark contrast to her apprehensiveness, he confidently replied, “And I wish you luck in your studies.” He pointed to a specific set of shelves. “I believe the anthropology section contains the sorts of books you'd prefer. I think there are a few texts on archeology.”

A small smile snuck onto her face. She was touched that he remembered. “Yes, thank you.”

They parted, both going their separate ways, and both a little sad about it, as evidenced by the subtle glances they snuck at each other.

“You seem to be enjoying yourself.”

She glanced up from the book her head was buried in and was met with a familiar head of golden hair, and a favorability gauge now at fifty-six. He was looking down at her bemusedly, enjoying the clear display of how much of a nerd she was. In response to his snide comment, she sniped, “I was… until you arrived.” And she had. She’d spent the entire day in the library, even eating lunch on one of the plush sofas. A glance at one of the library’s grand windows told her it was already evening.

He scoffed. “Is that any way to talk to the man that’s been swamped with paperwork and meetings all day to punish the people who framed you?” Her lip twitched, feeling a little guilty for being so irritable. Catching her reaction, he waved his hand dismissively. “There’s no need to apologize. I want the heads of those nobles just as much—if not more—than you do.” He brightened. “Actually, I have news I think you’ll be quite pleased to hear.” She furrowed her brows as she watched him pull out an envelope from his coat pocket and hand it to her. She stared at him questioningly, but he just pushed it further towards her in response, so she took it.

Before she opened it, worried the envelope was some ploy to have her killed, she levied a serious expression at him and asked, “What is this?”

“The rights to a former Eckart diamond mine,” he responded casually, but his coy smile told her there was more to the story. “It was bribery from the Duke to Count Kellen for the stunt you pulled last year.” His smile dropped; a frown uncharacteristic of him replacing it. He looked concerned, and much more serious than she was used to. “I opened last year’s case out of curiosity… Why didn’t you say that Lady Kellen put insects in your tea? It’s no wonder you went crazy.”

She bit back a gasp, disguising it as a sharp inhale. She knew the noblewomen bullied Penelope, but she didn’t know they went as far as to feed her insects. And to extort the Duke, too… Unsure of what to tell the prince as it hadn't been her, she speculated with an unmistakable bitterness, “Who would’ve believed the mad dog of Eckart?” His frown deepened, so she said dismissively, “It doesn’t matter now.” She held out the envelope. “Why are you giving this to me? Shouldn’t you return it to the Duke?”

He quickly explained, “It was impounded in the investigation. The seven noblemen involved in the attempt had their titles stripped, property seized, and are set to be executed. Count Kellen, who was only implicated, was enslaved.” He grinned wickedly. “You were right to advise that I stay behind to work today. It was fun watching those bastards beg for mercy.” She shivered at his menacing look, but it vanished as quickly as it’d appeared. He returned to her question, “The mine no longer belongs to the Duke, as all the confiscated property is under imperial authority. And when I learned the story behind this particular parcel, I decided that I wanted you to have it.” He gently pushed it towards her chest. “It may not be the palace treasury, but it’s the next best thing,” he cheekily remarked.

She was quick to refuse, “Thank you, but I don’t want it.” It was the consequence of Penelope's tears and humiliation. How could she take such a thing?

He tutted, “But I insist. You dare defy the Crown Prince?” He smirked arrogantly, knowing she couldn’t disobey a direct command, and his smile widened when she reluctantly took the envelope.

“…Thank you,” she murmured, secretly a little flattered. With his twisted morals, it clearly wasn’t for the sake of justice. 

His smile vanished, making hers fade in confusion. “Well, consider it a gift as much as an apology.” He hesitantly explained, “Marquis Allen is as slippery as an eel and managed to escape punishment by putting all the blame on Baron Tullet. I promised I’d put all who framed the princess behind bars, and I failed, so this is also a conciliatory gift.”

Her hidden smile initially twisted into a frown, but it rose again to reassure him, “It’s a shame, but I didn’t expect that the Marquis would be held responsible, hence why I pointed to Baron Tullet in the trial, so I’m not very disappointed.” That and the game system didn’t say Marquis Ellen’s capture was a reward for the quest.

Callisto nodded, glad she wasn’t too upset, and continued, “That’s not the only gift.” He pulled out a different item from his coat, a tan scroll tied by a red string. “I had the palace magicians repair the map you found,” he explained.

She reluctantly took it, having learned she couldn’t refuse from the last gift, but she tried nonetheless, “Are you sure I can keep this? Isn’t it a valuable magical artifact?”

He reassured, “You dug it up, so it’s yours.” She was still hesitant, so he added, “We made another copy to study.”

Satisfied with that answer, she held onto the scroll as well. It was silent for a moment, neither knowing what to say now that Callisto’d delivered his gifts.

He suddenly asked, “How have you been enjoying your stay in the palace?”

Strongly disliking small talk but aware that not answering such a question would be impolite, she begrudgingly replied with faux enthusiasm, “I’ve really enjoyed it. The room is lovely, the library is exceptional, the food is delicious…”

He smirked predatorily. “I’m glad the food is to your liking. Perhaps you might like to join me for dinner this evening? Far be it from me to let a guest dine alone.”

She narrowed her eyes at his smirk, but her features softened in amusement at how transparent he was. She didn’t want to eat with him, but he’d cornered her, and she knew if she refused, he’d pull a ridiculous stunt to make it happen, so she simply replied, “How could I refuse such a polite invitation?” She rolled her eyes to indicate that she’d seen right through his nonsense.

He was unfazed by her dismissal and patiently watched as she set a bookmark in the tome laying open on the desk beside the armchair she was curled up on and tucked the envelope and scroll into a pocket in her dress (she didn’t expect to attend the hunt today but wore something versatile in case she had to). 

After she finished gathering her things, he led her to the dining room, and they had a dinner that was more pleasant than she expected it to be. He told her stories from the war and his life as the crown prince, including embarrassing incidents that befell other members of the nobility that she took great satisfaction in. She was content to listen and occasionally comment, which he didn't seem to mind.

His favorability was at fifty-seven when she bid him goodnight.

Chapter Text

The next morning, she donned her newly cleaned and stitched-up hunting suit (courtesy of the palace maids), intent on attending the hunt to catch a prey whose pelt would suit Eckles. She felt that she paid her debt to the prince by staying behind for one day, and she hoped that he’d have more work to do so she could hunt without intrusion.

Her hopes were dashed when he followed her to the carriage after breakfast. 

Resigned to his attendance, she frowned and protested half-heartedly, “Your Highness, I don’t think it would be proper for us to travel together."

He ignored her remark and stood beside the carriage, holding out his hand to escort her like Derrick once had. Now recognizing the gesture, her frown deepened. Suppressing his characteristic smirk, he replied coolly, “We’re going to the same place, are we not?”

Reinvigorated by his rebuff, she argued, “But think of the rumors-”

He questioned rhetorically, “What difference would it make if we rode in separate carriages or not?” He gestured to the golden carriage with his outstretched hand. “It’s clearly an imperial carriage. The rumors would swell nonetheless.”

She stared him down, but he stared back impassively with his hand held out, unrelenting. After a minute of their silent battle of wills, she sighed and took his hand, to which he grinned.

As Callisto escorted her down the carriage steps, all eyes fell on their momentarily joint hands, including Derrick's icy blue ones, which she met coldly and then promptly ignored. As soon as her feet were firmly planted on the ground, she escaped the prince's grasp and met the cool blue eyes of the Duke, who greeted her despite the cacophony of whispers.

“Penelope, is the palace treating you well?” the Duke asked, clearly intent on disregarding the loud gossip and avoiding the subject of the Crown Prince, who retreated to converse with other nobles at the sight of the Duke.

She smiled and nodded. “Yes, father, the palace is lovely.” She hesitated, reticent but needing an excuse as to why she decided to stay in the palace, so ultimately decided to add, “The library is splendid.”

Either because he already knew about her hobby from the hours she’d spent reading in the duchy or because it didn’t interest him, he replied with a simple, “That’s great.”

Luckily, the Eckart brothers were busy socializing with other young nobles (and Derrick wouldn't dare disrespect his company by chasing after his nuisance of an adopted 'sister', despite how intensely his frigid glare was focused on her), so after saying goodbye to the Duke and promising she’d be careful, she snuck away from the reception towards the hunting grounds without interference (besides the jealous glances several noble ladies snuck her from behind their fans). She accidentally met Reynold’s baby blue irises on the way out, to which he grinned, and she hesitantly smiled in return. Their conversation at the Eckart lodging had improved their relationship.

She made it to the entrance of the hunting grounds and paused to admire the forest, a stark contrast to the urban sprawl she called home. 

Before she could enter, a gruff voice spooked her, “Are you seriously heading out alone again after what happened last time?”

She jumped and squeaked, startled by the sudden noise, and came face-to-face with the only thing that scared her more than the bear: the crown prince. She coughed and donned a neutral expression to mask her embarrassing reaction, but he was already grinning at her, barely biting back a laugh (a few chuckles escaped). After regaining her bearings, she replied, “It isn’t Your Highness’ concern, but yes, I do plan to hunt alone.”

He snorted. “But you’re more easily frightened than the small animals you’ll be hunting.”

She huffed. “And you’re as impolite as ever.”

He returned casually, “It was a compliment. You’re cute, like a small animal.”

She studied his face for indication he was joking and found a bare smile that exhibited plain sincerity. Flustered, she retorted, “Did Your Highness come here just to upset me, or do you intend to say something worthwhile?”

He grinned. “I do, in fact, have a proposition that's worth your while.” 

He knelt on one knee before her, and she exclaimed at the absurd action, “Your Highness, what are you doing?!” When he didn’t reply, she continued, “This is highly improper-”

“I'm to be your knight, so I am kneeling before my mistress.” he cheekily replied. She glared daggers sharper than his sword in response. Still bowing before her, he declared, “I solemnly swear on my knightly honor to protect my lady from any beasts she might encounter in the forest.”

She frowned at his expressed intent to join her. Cutting through his playacting, she retorted, “What about becoming the king of the hunt? I’m staying in the small animal hunting zone.”

“I don’t care about that,” he asserted, but she raised an eyebrow, doubtful, so he explained, “I like showing up the other nobles, but my duty to the princess comes first.” He grabbed her gloved hand and kissed it, grinning up at her from his knelt-down position. In truth, he’d caught enough game to win on the first day, but if he told her that, he’d miss the opportunity to see her flustered. 

Glancing about for onlookers with tinted cheeks, she mumbled, “Get up. There’ll be trouble if someone sees…”

He simpered, still gently clasping her hand. “If you’ll agree to let me join you.”

She rolled her eyes, but muttered, “…Fine.” She was secretly still traumatized by the bear attack and dreaded going back into the forest… and she had a feeling he knew. Despite her outward rejection, her heart stirred at his thoughtfulness. His sword-wielding presence was reassuring.

He beamed as he arose, and they headed off into the forest together.

He offered to help her shoot her crossbow, and she declined. To her surprise, he reacted quite dramatically, “You dare doubt the talents of the crown prince?” 

She hastily clarified, “No, I just thought that Your Highness is so skilled with the sword that knowledge of other weaponry is unnecessary.” Flattery was always the answer.

Instead of being complimented like she thought he would, he shook his head and went on a tirade, “Such arrogance is deadly on the battlefield. There are times when it’s more beneficial to attack at range, or it’s the only option.” He brought out his sword and slashed the air gracefully as if he were a dancer and the blade his silk. She tried not to flinch. “The sword is flashy… It exudes confidence and power. The message is unmistakable: The head of anyone who dares near the crown prince will be rolling on the floor before they can make a scratch.” Faster than she could blink, his blade sliced a large branch off a nearby tree, scaring away the rabbit she intended to hunt. “Of course, that’s true,” He sheathed his sword. “but other weapons are nothing to scoff at just because they look less intimidating. I was trained in them all. The emperor must be flawless.” The more she learned about his childhood, the more she wanted to know. But before she could ask anything else, he gestured to the crossbow she was holding and asked, “So, will you let me help you actually catch something, or what?”

She frowned at the casual insult (yes, she’d failed to catch three rabbits, two birds, and one squirrel so far… but who was counting) but agreed regardless. After quietly searching for a few minutes, she found a new target: a pale white rabbit with a charming brown spot on its eye. Callisto advised her on where to stand and helped her get into position.

Once her feet were settled, he gently placed his hands on hers and whispered, “Wait for your prey to stop and eat; once distracted, it will take longer to react.” His warm breath tickled her ear, and she shivered. He murmured, “You’re quivering. It’s ruining your aim. Try to relax,” He blew in her ear, making her do the opposite. “and focus on your target.” Now all she could focus on was him. “Take deep breaths.” The intensity and temperature of his breaths increased with the sentiment, and she internally cursed him out for teasing her, her shaking not easing in the slightest. She tried to focus on the rabbit, but his hot breath and her rapid heartbeat dominated her attention. So, when he whispered, “Shoot,” thoroughly distracted, instead of hitting the rabbit, she missed by a wide margin, and it ran away. The recoil sent her sprawling into her tormentor’s chest, and luckily (or unluckily) he caught her in his strong arms. 

She glared up at him, and he tried to look innocent, but he couldn’t hide his grin. “Wow, princess, your aim is even worse than I thought,” he teased. “Guess I need to help you practice more.”

She spluttered, trying to find the words to voice her aggravation but unable to without acknowledging the effect he had on her, so she resorted to just glaring daggers at him. He smiled down at her innocuously.

After the botched first attempt, Callisto genuinely helped her make her shots. The second time he whispered, “Deep breath out… shoot,” guided by his soothing, warm voice, she did just that and watched in amazement as the bolt struck the tan rabbit she’d been aiming for.

She turned to face Callisto and said, “I hit it.” She feigned indifference, but her grin exhibited her pride.

He chuckled, and she could still feel his breath on her skin, as they were barely inches apart. “That you did.” He walked over to her prey and picked it up by the ears. At her horrified face, he cradled it in his arm instead, to which she visibly relaxed. Amused, he taunted, “You talked a big game about getting fur to make accessories when we first walked into the forest, but you can’t even bear to see the animals be mishandled.”

She crossed her arms and turned her chin petulantly. “…I thought I’d just not watch.”

He guffawed. “Who knew the mad dog who sheds no blood nor tears was such a softie? Goes to show you can’t trust the rumors.”

She rolled her eyes and muttered, “Let’s just find a guard to take it…” while walking back towards the last guard they saw.

He jogged to catch up to her.

On their way to find a guard, the rabbit found its way into her arms, and when she thought he wasn’t looking, she sneakily petted its fur. Callisto noticed but didn’t comment, amused by her efforts to uphold her stoic exterior and how adorable she really was.

After catching a few more rabbits and a bird with Callisto’s expert assistance, they encountered a creature Penelope was thrilled to see: a gray fox whose fur was the same color as Eckles' eyes. She immediately hid behind the bushes with her trusty sidekick and whispered, “This is the one that led me to the bear.”

“Then we must take advantage of this opportunity to fulfill the princess’ revenge,” he replied, already using his hands to guide her.

It took several minutes—in which Penelope stood as still as a stone and tried to ignore the feeling of Callisto’s hands by focusing on the rapid rhythm of her heartbeat—until the fox ambled over to a berry bushel, tilting its head down to eat, much like the rabbit had earlier. She narrowed her eyes at her prey, deeply inhaled, then on her exhale, with Callisto’s strong hands steadying hers, she took her shot. Time seemed to slow as she watched her prey lift its head to the sound of her crossbow, about to dart away, but not reacting quickly enough to escape. The bolt hit right on target, and her prey collapsed to the ground in defeat.

Penelope was practically jumping for joy. “I did it! I did it! I got it!” she exclaimed, beaming, and turning to Callisto to share her pride. 

He looked at her with a soft smile that made her insides melt, his hands still gripping hers. “You did a fantastic job, princess,” he murmured. Before she knew what was happening, he was looking at her with fondness in his eyes and leaning in so close that their breath intermingled. She was tempted to close her eyes, but she was shocked out of her stupor when she heard his voice, “You have hair in your face,” he muttered, tucking a stray lock behind her ear.

She flushed scarlet, jumping back to escape his hold, and shaking her head to dispel whatever she’d just felt. She was simply excited and got caught up in the moment, she told herself. 

…But the way he was still looking at her and the sixty percent floating above his head told a different story, so she scrambled over to the fox, spluttered some nonsense about grabbing the guard, and ran away, trying (and failing) to fight back the heat in her cheeks and the pounding in her heart.