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Penelope couldn't help but huddle as small as possible between the space of her bed and the dresser, in a vague hope that if someone opened the door to the room in which she resided, no one would be able to find her. Even though her uncontrollable sobs made her position clear to everyone but herself.
Who would have expected that the real daughter would return to Penelope's Ceremony of majority, of all days.
She should have expected this.
Of course something would go wrong on what was supposed to be the happiest day of her life.
The false daughter covered her head with her hands, making an even bigger mess and smearing tears, snot and makeup all over her face. Not that it mattered.
No one ever cared to see how she was feeling and now that Yvonne was back everyone was celebrating the return of the real daughter and the future rejection of Eckhart's Mad dog.
All she hoped for was a day where she could feel like a true Eckhart, where she could show all the nobles who despised her, insulted her, who put bugs in her tea that she was just as noble as they were. That she was still part of Duke's family, whether they approved or not.
Even the servants had become more accommodating recently, and she could eat food that wasn't rotten or moldy for more than three days in a row.
(Usually the time they left the food to rot before giving it to her. Giving her false hope of being treated with respect, only to spit on her feelings and go back to serving her rotten food. No one ever noticed anything.
Not the wounds on her arm, not her sickly thin body. Just assuming she was so obsessed with her appearance that she would starve herself on purpose.
How absurd.
Penelope made the mistake of accepting Duke's hand that cursed day so she could give her mother a proper burial, and not have to go hungry anymore.
But that's okay, she was always used to eating rotten food)
Even from inside her room it was possible to hear the excited bustle of the servants and this only increased the bitterness inside her chest.
At times like these, when she was blessedly alone to be the pathetic creature she was, she regretted ever agreeing to come to this place.
Maybe it was selfish, considering everything the Duke Eckhart gave ger, but Penelope genuinely thinks that dying on the streets was better than having to face disgust, hatred and contempt every moment.
The only difference between the Duchy and the dumpster next to her mother's corpse was that she didn't need to seek shelter from the rain.
Other than that, there was no difference that she could think of. Of course, now she had money to be able to buy anything she wanted, but it was little compared to everything she lost.
Her loss of freedom was what affected her the most. The freedom to find a job somewhere warm and comfortable. To meet a man who would love her even with all her sharp and dark edges, rather than a simple marriage of convenience.
(There was a time when she thought she could take it easy, meet someone witty and intelligent who appreciated her sharp personality. She even considered contacting Marquis Verdandi a few days after her majority.
She appreciated the work he did to help the neediest peasants, and his personal knowledge of what they went through could be useful in making life for them even more comfortable.
And maybe spending time with him would bring her father's approval)
But that was stupid of her, because she was never an Eckhart.
She was still hungry.
She was still abused.
She was still a joke.
And no one would even blink if something happened to her.
And now with Yvonne back, it was only a matter of time before she was sent away. Whether as a commoner without a surname, or used as a bargaining chip to increase the Duchy's influence she didn't know.
Penelope held the hem of her dress tightly before rubbing it over her face to make her appearance more presentable. The feel of the silky smooth fabric, given to her by Duke, did wonders for her swollen face.
She couldn't even blame Yvonne for ruining what should have been the happiest day of Penelope's life.
She wouldn't have known what kind of event the Duchy was having, and even if she had known, who knows if she would have cared in her joy at seeing her family again.
Penelope understands, she really does. She would give anything to see her own family again.
To go back in time to before she had to dig a grave for every member of her family. Dirty fingers and torn off fingernails were a small price to pay to give his family a resting place.
It was not possible to do the same with her mother. There were no places in the capital where she could dig without being caught and condemned for causing problems for the residents. Her only choice was to trust a random noble who sometimes threw her some golden coins.
Thinking back now, she was lucky Duke wasn't a pervert.
(But was it really luck?
If he had taken her in with the intention of making her his wife, wouldn't she have at least been treated better?
Because then the Duke would be forced to pay attention to her, and make sure she did her job as a wife properly, instead of just throwing her into the duchy and forgetting about her existence until she caused more problems.
But she was glad that wasn't the case. The very idea of seeing him as anything other than her father, or the man who bought her as a child, was disgusting)
(It was the same with Derrick.
He might think she was stupid, dumb and a waste of time, but Penelope always knew how to hide things very well.
She knew how he saw her. How his eyes always followed her everywhere she went.
How he would invite her to an event, only to abandon her shortly afterwards to avoid raising suspicion about his own desires.
Among the nobility, sibling relationships were common to keep the family blood "pure", but if he tried to force himself on her at some point Penelope can't even imagine what she would do.
She hopes he doesn't turn his obsession to Yvonne. The poor girl is probably not used to dealing with such focused attention from nobles anymore)
The moment her head throbbed and her eyes burned was when she stood up from where she was cowering.
Letting her feelings leak out through her tears was freeing, and something she hadn't done in a long time.
In the Duchy, Penelope had to be strong at all times, or she would be despised even more for her weakness.
But her mother always told her that bottling up her feelings and ignoring them would eventually make her suffocate in her own skin and explode.
During Yvonne's entrance she came dangerously close to exploding, and it was the first time she understood what her mother meant.
There was nothing wrong with crying. Crying cleanses the soul and frees the mind from disturbances, so she could get rid of all negative feelings.
Penelope ripped off the heels she was wearing and tossed them to the side, her trembling fingers almost unable to undo the clasps on her shoes.
With that done, Penelope headed to the bathroom where the water from her morning shower was still present.
Ripping the dress off her body was the next step, and she almost tore it in her rush to get it off.
The dress that once brought her so much joy now only made her sick.
Stepping into the freezing water was a relief to her overheated body, but the knowledge that the water was dirty made a deep part of her brain shiver.
But everything was fine, dirty water and moldy food had always been part of her life, and that day would be no different.
Penelope rubbed her face hard, trying to get rid of the signs of crying as much as possible.
Taking a deep breath, she leaned against the edge of the tub letting the cold water wash away the rest of her worries that her crying couldn't wash away as far as possible.
At that moment, everything was fine.
She wasn't dead and still had a place to sleep.
Tomorrow she will worry about the rest.