House of Baron Zecalion.
Penelope crawled in stealthily like a cat, holding her heels in her hands.Just at the end of that hall was her room.
During the entire trip from the House of Baron Elisya to the House of Zecalion using the magical square, a dark shadow loomed over her face.
Why! Would you spend the night with a stranger!
Penelope wanted to pull on her hair and pound herself for making such a grave mistake.But a single squeak and the maids would discover that she had been out till morning—and so would her parents.
"Phew."
She grinned at the thought of changing into something more comfortable and staying in bed all day.She wasn't sure if it was the countless glasses of wine she had downed the night before or the forgotten memories of the night with the silver-haired man, but she felt as if her insides were burning and she was aching all over.
Her bottom was particularly sore, as though she had been given a bad beating.
What on earth happened last night?
As hard as she tried, Penelope's memory was clouded in darkness.
[You damned man! I hope you drown yourself in a puddle of mud!][You effing son of a witch!]
"Argh! Did my mouth get the better of me?"
Penelope scrunched up her pretty face.
"Hmm, it feels like that feeling after quite the potty-talk."
Suddenly, the memories from last night flashed back like a storm—The man's body, hard as steel rope, and the soft silver hair lingered in her mind.
Penelope's cheeks flared up a bright pink tone.
"You sneaky crazy girl!"
She shook her head in an attempt to shake off the images from that regretful night.
"Urgh, what to do. What to do!"
I'll just say I'm not feeling well and sleep everything off.
Finally, she arrived at the door to her room.As she set her eyes on the splendidly carved door by the artisans of Lica, Penelope let out a sigh of relief.
She silently screamed with joy, grabbed the door handle, and pushed hard.At last, she succeeded in soundlessly entering her room.
Oh, my back. I'll head out to lie under the poplar tree after a good sleep.
"Where have you been now?"
"How did you—HICCUP!"
Penelope hiccupped when startled.
"Why are you so surprised? Have you done something wrong?"
Her eyes widened. Standing before her was her brother, Parion, smirking wickedly with folded arms.
"How odd. I can smell it, something is going on."
Parion circled Penelope, sniffing the air like a hound.
"Wha–what smell are you talking about?"
"No excuses, Penny. Speak!"
She closed her eyes, refusing to reply.
Not if my life depended on it!
She puffed her cheeks and blew air at him.
"What are you doing?"
"You told me to speak."
"Darn it, Penny!"
"I don't know what you're talking about."
Parion cringed and crossed his arms.
"Where were you last night? I hope you didn't—"
Didn't? Didn't what? Does he know?
"You didn't pass out on the streets from the wine, did you? Hahaha!"
Penelope rolled her eyes. "Shoo."
"Uh-uh. Phet! Phet!"
Parion pretended to spit, grinning.
"I told you not to call me that nonsense name!"
"Then how about this? Ptooey!"
Penelope's eyes burned with fury. "You f—!"
"Whoa, calm down, dear L–L–L–oving sister."
"L–L–L–oving! Ha! More like a mortal enemy!"
Penelope clenched her fists. Then, an idea struck.
"Rubia is supposed to come over."
"What?"
Alarmed, Parion's face drained of color.
"She should be here by now. Rubia was very eager to see you again, brother."
"You sly wench!"
Parion blurted and bolted from the room.
If Parion was Penelope's enemy, then her friend Rubia was his—a mortal enemy fiercely in love with him.
Chapter 3: The Emperor's Arrow
The next day, before dawn, in the garden of the House of Baron Zecalion.
"Ah! So refreshing!"
Penelope stretched her arms and wandered into the garden. She had slept well and was in a bright mood.
Though it was still before sunrise, she was always up early—no matter how late she went to bed.
"Well, what an early bird am I…"
She twirled lightly, humming to herself, when a soft voice called from behind.
"My lady… how are you feeling?"
"Jenny?"
"I thought you'd stay in bed longer…" Jenny looked anxious and fidgety.
Penelope sighed. Jenny had been like this ever since the engagement with Count Gordon had been broken.
"How many times must I say it, Jenny! I really am fine!"
"That jerk… sniff."
Jenny's eyes welled up with tears.
'Is she crying again? Oh lord.'
"Jenny, please don't cry. I will get married."
Jenny wailed even louder.
"Oh, how can you get married again at this age? Now you'll grow old alone, never knowing a man's touch. My poor lady!"
Huh?
Penelope froze. Should I tell her I spent the night with a stranger?No, she'd die on the spot.
"Well, there are plenty of single women living happily in Lavata," Penelope tried to reassure her.
"But that woman is eighty! And a widow!"
Penelope groaned. "Still, some blind fool could take me away. Or my dowry—"
Jenny gasped. "Oh, my poor lady. The Baroness said there will be no dowry if you're not wed."
Penelope froze. "What?"
That dowry was her last hope for freedom.
"So you see, you must marry. But now, the only unmarried man good enough for you is the Emperor himself…"
Penelope groaned. "Please. Is the Emperor insane?"
"It's him or some old widower."
Penelope rubbed her temples. "I'm going to meet Rubia in town."
"This early in the day, my lady?"
"Yes. I… have a task first!"
Jenny tilted her head with pity. "Oh, my poor lady, speaking nonsense after such heartbreak…"
"Hush! I'm heading out!"
Penelope stormed off.
"I'm going to feed the dog!" she shouted.
Jenny blinked in confusion. "What dog? We don't have a dog in the mansion!"
Filled with the lush greenery of spring, the Emperor's archery field was already bustling.
"Your Highness, please give an answer," said Princess Yulia.
"To what?"
"Our marriage, of course. My father, King of Turan, sent word three months ago."
"So?"
"Pardon, Your Grace?"
Bart's flat tone made her falter.
He raised his bow, the string glowing with magic.
"Your Majesty, if you would only give your acceptance—"
"Is that so."
He released the string. The arrow, blazing blue, hit the moving target—just below the center.
A miss.
"You hinder my concentration. Be gone."
"I cannot leave without an answer, sire."
Bart's eyes glinted coldly. "Do you consider yourself worthy of being Empress, when you're a mere prisoner?"
Yulia froze, trembling.
Bart thought only of one woman—Penelope Arina Zecalion.
To have run away like that...
He aimed again, this time hitting the center. A perfect shot.
A faint smile crossed his lips. Soon enough, I'll capture her heart the same way.
Yulia's trembling voice broke the silence. "But I adore you, Your Majesty!"
"That is not affection, but lust," he said coldly.
"I was aware of your greed for the Empress' seat, but hearing it aloud disgusts me. Forget such vain dreams. The true Empress will arrive soon."
"E–Empress?"
"Yes. A noble lady I intend to marry."
Bart's expression softened slightly as he remembered Penelope's flushed face and hasty departure.
"So you see," he said, lowering his bow, "you'd best disappear from Lavata before she arrives."