Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

In the stifling atmosphere of the grand dining room, the only sound that could be heard was the elegant clinking of silverware.

“Penelope.”

The duke’s toneless voice broke the silence.

“Your birthday is coming up soon. Is there anything you wish for?”

His adopted daughter blinked her turquoise eyes, gauging what to say. But within her gaze sparked the barest hint of elation, which was soon snuffed out by a loud protest.

“Father, you cannot be serious! Think of how much trouble that bitc – that brat caused for us at the hunting competition!” Reynold spat out.

“Didn’t I already pay for that with a month of probation?” Penelope retorted. “Butt out of my business.”

“Ha, your insolence knows no bounds.”

“So does your insufferableness.”

“You –”

“Enough! You are not children anymore,” the duke snapped, putting an end to their squabbling. “I was asking Penelope.”

“Tch.” Reynold folded his arms, but didn’t object further. Beside him, Derrick cast a cold glance over Penelope, who suppressed a flinch. In contrast to Reynold’s short fuse, her eldest brother had an icy temperament that seldom cracked – and whenever it did, the brunt of his rage often fell on her.

“Let’s see…” She let her imagination run wild, and her lips began curving upward. “Of course, I’ll have a banquet held in my honor. Only the finest musicians and chefs will be invited for the occasion. Ah, right, I'd like Klein de Monsourt to paint a portrait of me. My dress would be sewn entirely from Welnspide fabric imported from the Nelshan kingdom and embellished with a thousand glittering rubies. For accessories, I want the Pearls of the Mermaid worn by the late Empress Amaryllis. As for my present…” Her eyes lit up. “A popinyu diamond would suffice.”

She smiled dreamily as she imagined her perfect birthday. Then her fantasies were dashed by Reynold’s mutter. “You gotta be kidding me.”

Derrick just eyed her with his usual contempt.

Even the duke sighed at her hefty list of demands. “I’ll see what I can do.”

Her smile faltered. What was the point of asking her for her opinion if he was going to give such an insincere answer? She turned her attention back to her meal, and her smile dropped entirely at the sight of the toy utensils she had been given. Once again, the maids had played another cruel trick on her.

They knew their “fake mistress” well, though. They knew she would never dare to expose them, because enduring their humiliation was the only way she could continue dining with her family. The same family who did not even notice her current predicament. Wasn’t it so painfully tragic that the servants of her own household knew her better than those she called her family?

Her hand tightened around the handle of her fork. She clenched her abdomen, forcing it not to growl. Up until the end of the meal, neither her father nor her brothers realized anything was amiss.

… Truly, she was a fool for hoping otherwise.

Yet like a fool, the only thing she could do was hope.

***

The dawn of Penelope’s seventeenth birthday arrived, along with pouring rain. It wasn’t an ominous sign. Nope, not at all. She simply refused to acknowledge it.

She awoke with a stabbing pain in her arms and a smirk on her personal maid’s – was her name Emily? – face. Penelope glowered at her silently as she rubbed the puncture wounds. She could make a fuss and get her replaced, but… the one who would suffer was her. Derrick was already annoyed at how often she changed her maids, and it was unwise to provoke his ire any further.

In the end, there was no point.

The cold water that Emily brought to wash her face sloshed about in the basin. Penelope grimaced. Why did she have to put up with such treatment on her birthday? A wicked idea came to her. It was impulsive, it was petty, but did she care?

Not at all, as she grabbed the basin of water and threw it over Emily’s figure. The girl gasped at the shock of the freezing water, getting a taste of her own medicine.

“Oops, my hand slipped.” Penelope stood, brushing back her magenta hair. “Clean this up and bring me a new bowl.”

Emily bit her lips, shoulders trembling, but she was a smart maid who knew when to fold. “Yes, my lady.” Her voice seemed to be coming out from gritted teeth.

Although the duke acquiesced to some of Penelope’s desires like throwing her a birthday banquet and, impossibly, procuring the famed Pearls of the Mermaid, he drew the line at her outrageous dress request. Considering the time frame, it was a lost cause anyway.

Instead, she was decked in a pale lavender gown that hugged her curves and flared at the waist, falling in voluminous waves until the hemline grazed the floor. Real violets clung to her bodice, painstakingly preserved using magic, and the Pearls of the Mermaid, which were a pair of earrings that could change color, dangled from her ears like glossy plums. Her beauty shone, vicious and sharp, but mesmerizing nonetheless. Like a bloom that beckoned and beguiled the unsuspecting into its waiting thorns.

When she exited her room, she was startled to see Derrick there.

“You’re late.”

“A-apologies, Brother,” the reply automatically came out of her surprised lips. She peered up at him. “Will you be escorting me?”

A brief jerk of his head was his only answer.

That was new. Last year, Reynold was her escort, except he stood her up and went ahead without her, making her the laughing stock of high society for days after that. The second they reached home, the two of them fought like vicious cats over it, and she emerged victorious with tufts of Reynold’s taffy pink hair in her clutches. The look of horror on his face was immortalized in her mind.

She trailed a few steps behind Derrick, inwardly overjoyed at having him accompany her. This was… This was progress, right? She pursed her lips. Well, whatever it was, she wasn’t about to look a gift horse in the mouth!

“Behave yourself. As per your wishes to host the most magnificent banquet, Father invited countless nobles for this occasion. Do not sully the Eckhart name with your troublemaking ways.”

She made a face behind her brother’s back as he began his usual lecture. Didn’t he get tired of always saying the same thing? They halted before the double doors leading to the Eckhart mansion’s ballroom. The nervous footman declared, “Announcing the Young Lord Derrick Eckhart and Lady Penelope Eckhart!”

The sibling duo stepped in as all eyes turned toward them, honing in on Penelope, the star of tonight’s ball. Whispers gathered in a flurry, but one look from her was enough to silence them. As she passed by, several young men gazed at her in undisguised lust, eyes tracing the contours of her body. She wanted to slap them, but with Derrick watching, she barely restrained herself. Her elder brother directed his glare at the lecherous men, who glanced away hastily.

At times like this, having him by her side was unexpectedly useful. His appearance also suppressed any of the usual nasty gossiping about her lowly birth or unruly behavior, for fear of being overheard by him. Above all, he would not tolerate anyone smearing the Eckhart name.

She caught a glimpse of familiar pink hair at the side of the hall. Reynold was conversing with other young lords, but his lips twisted into a sneer when he saw her. Well, the feeling was mutual. Derrick strayed away from her to socialize with the other nobles, but not before giving her another warning to conduct herself appropriately.

The other ladies gave Penelope a wide berth, but now that Derrick was gone, they were openly engaging in title-tattle about her.

“… heard that she made a scene at the younger Lord Eckhart’s birthday banquet…”

“Yes, she almost caused the end of the Buford lineage with how she, you know…”

“My goodness, she didn’t!”

“Well, what else would you expect from someone with such lowly origins?”

Penelope sent the ladies a scathing look. In her opinion, she went easy on Lord Buford by only kicking him down there during Reynold’s birthday, given how he kept making unsolicited passes at her. Fed up with hearing the gossip about her, she stalked to the food table, intent on getting herself some desserts.

“What’s up with that dress? You might as well be parading around naked.”

She rolled her eyes. “Why, hello to you too, Brother.” Of course, not a single word of well wishes came from Reynold’s snarky mouth. What else was she expecting? “And the cutting of this dress is the latest trend right now. Don’t spout nonsense about fashion and stop bothering me.”

He eyed the way her dress exposed her shoulders and collarbones with distaste. “The latest trend, huh? How strange that no other lady in this room is wearing anything as revealing as you.”

She felt a vein in her forehead throb. Was he purposely picking a fight with her or what? His critical gaze narrowed with malice. She readied herself for the impending blow.

“Then again, you must have picked up a thing or two about seduction on the streets.”

Red clouded her vision. It wasn’t until she heard Reynold’s enraged growl that she realized she had flung her half-eaten cupcake in his face, which now had a streak of strawberry frosting running down it.

“You… You crazy bitch,” he hissed, wiping his face with the back of his hand.

She closed her eyes briefly, lamenting at her lack of restraint. Well, since things had already gone south, she might as well aim for hell, right?

Her eyes snapped open. “If I’m a crazy bitch, then you're the lowest scum of Eorka.”

“PENELOPE ECKHART!”

The crowd that had rapidly gathered around them gasped when Reynold roared her name. Penelope didn’t even bat an eyelash. What was there to be shocked about?

“Stop.”

At that deathly calm voice that caused even Reynold’s fury to falter, she stiffened. She didn’t want to turn around and see the disappointment in her father’s eyes.

“Reynold, go clean up. And Penelope” – she twitched – “it is best for you to retire for the night.”

It hurt. More than anything, the apathy in his voice hurt. It was as though he didn’t expect anything from her anymore – as though it was a given that she would always disappoint him.

Penelope held her head high, wore her arrogance like a crown and her pride like a shield, and stalked toward the exit. The crowd was the butter she cut through like a knife, parting before her with no resistance.

The back of the villainess grew smaller and smaller, but the loneliness emanating from her continued to linger long after she was gone.

***

In the solitude of her room, Penelope sank onto the cold ground beside her bed and stared vacantly into the air. For some reason or another, things always ended up like this for her. Perhaps it was just her crappy fate.

She chuckled mirthlessly.

“Happy birthday, my darling daughter.” As always, the whisper of her mother’s voice echoed in her ears.

“Lies.”

What about today was a happy occasion? Or… perhaps it was a happy occasion, but not for her. The guests at the banquet were probably snickering behind her back, relishing the joy of ridiculing her. To them, she was no more than a court jester masquerading as a ducal lady, and it was their favorite pastime to poke fun at her until she came apart at the seams.

Even her own mother, who was the closest person to her, had never truly known her heart. Had never known the depths of the resentment and despair she secretly harbored in her heart, hidden away behind her false smiles. She could never let her sick, ailing mother, who worried about her even until her last breath, know these ugly truths.

A sliver of moonlight seeped through the crack in the drapes, illuminating the devout figure of the kneeling girl with her hands clasped and eyes closed. Unlike other years, she wished neither for riches nor romance.

Only the moon stood witness to her silent prayer of one day meeting someone who could understand her struggles and accept her for who she was. Who could hold her hand and be her friend. Who could see through her mask and soothe the scars engraved on her heart.

And so, she waited.

Chapter Text

“ – of a bitch!”

Siyeon grunted as she landed on her ass, disoriented for a few seconds. What in the actual hell just happened? She was digging through the refrigerator for leftovers when an abnormal gust of wind surged out of nowhere and took her along with it to… to wherever this was.

Cold sweat trickled down her neck as she dimly registered her surroundings.

She was in a dark alley, and lively chatter reached her from the other end, a muddled mix of vendors touting their goods and customers haggling for lower prices. Was she at some kind of marketplace?

… There was only one way to find out.

Rising unsteadily, she walked out of the alley. Immediately the full wave of the noisy market hit her. People bustled about, barely sparing her a glance, while she openly gawked at them. They were all dressed in such strange, colorful clothes. A woman fluttered her fan as she swept by in a voluminous, stuffy-looking gown, with an entourage of servants trailing behind her. She made a “tsk” sound, and it took Siyeon a second to realize she was addressing her.

“Such vulgar clothing…” The woman breezed by, clicking her tongue.

Siyeon pinched herself. Pain flared in her arm. Unfortunately, she couldn’t chalk this up to being a dream. Then had she stumbled onto some kind of bizarre play or movie set? But it still didn’t make sense how she suddenly got teleported away from her home!

Ping!

She jumped, and rubbed her eyes.

Alright, there was another option: she had gone crazy.

◇ System ◇

Event quest

It’s My Birthday – Be Escorted by Derrick!

failed!

[Penalty: Derrick’s favorability ▼3%,

Reputation ▼15]

Because if she wasn’t crazy, how else would she explain that gray, translucent system window floating in front of her? She reached out a hand, and it passed through the rectangle smoothly, although the screen fuzzed over.

... What in the world was going on? Although there was something vaguely familiar about this system window. Her eyes narrowed onto the name “Derrick”. Wasn’t that the name of one of the five male leads from the simulation game she was playing earlier? The same one she had just died to in hard mode? It had to be a coincidence, right?

The window contracted and vanished without a trace, making her feel even more out of touch with her own sanity. She walked in a daze, not noticing the weird looks people were directing her due to her modern garb.

“Extra! Extra! Read all about it! Get your daily paper here, fresh off the press!” a young boy was shouting while waving around a sheaf of papers. She caught the title of the newspaper, printed in bold and striking her like a bolt of lightning: EORKA TIMES.

Eorka.

Eorka.

It was the name of the main kingdom that the game “Daughter of the Duke – Love Project!” was set in. She took in the obviously historical, European-inspired ambience of her environment, which when combined with the names Derrick and Eorka, gave no doubt that she had truly fallen into the game world.

The realization did not feel real, probably because Siyeon herself could barely believe it without feeling dizzy or nauseous. She slapped her cheeks, willing herself not to faint. Or hurl up her guts. She couldn’t decide which would be worse.

“Young miss,” a croaky voice called, and she whirled around. She met the gaze of a man with mismatched eyes – one brown and one green – that were staring at her intently. “What interesting fashion you have chosen. Hmm, very interesting indeed! Will you indulge this old man?”

She blinked. “Sorry?”

“Your clothes. Will you sell them to me? You see, I’m a collector of unusual things. And of course I will compensate you handsomely.” Belatedly, she noticed the assortment of junk cluttering his stand. Artifacts of all shapes and sizes were jumbled up together in a disorderly mess, simply begging to be disposed of.

She glanced down dumbfoundedly at her own simple jeans and off-the-shoulder top. He was fascinated with these? Yet his expectant gaze was devoid of deceit, and his offer of money eventually outweighed her suspicions.

“Fine, but I don’t have any other clothes…”

The vendor next to him suddenly piped up, “Won’t you take a look at some of our apparel? Anything will look good on a beautiful lass like you!”

She cast a critical once-over at the garments on display. They weren’t anything special, and were mostly in muted tones, but it wasn’t as if she could afford to be choosy now. She settled on a drab dress the shade of somber gray and sewn from coarse cotton. After donning it behind a changing curtain, she picked at the scratchy material uncomfortably.

She passed her previous clothes to the eccentric collector, feeling oddly melancholic as she parted ways with them. However, that sentiment evaporated when the collector handed her a thick pouch filled with gold coins. Her eyes widened. She might not know much about this world, but she did know that the amount of money he had given her was absurdly generous. So much so that her suspicions rekindled immediately.

“… Are these gold coins counterfeit? Or perhaps obtained illegally?” she muttered skeptically.

The collector gave her an affronted look. “Certainly not! I thought that was the value of your clothes. If you don’t want them, give them back to me –”

She clutched the pouch to her chest. “If that’s the case, I’ll accept them gladly.”

He snorted. “Good day to you then, young miss.” He returned his attention to his work.

She turned to leave, but hesitated. This man was peculiar, but he seemed friendly enough. Churning over how to phrase her question, she voiced out eventually, “By the way…”

“Hmm?”

She sighed. There was no way to be subtle about what she was going to ask. “Do you know where we are at right now?”

He squinted at her. She gave him a tight smile.

“… This is the Eckhart duchy.”

Siyeon swallowed. She had already figured out that she was inside the world of “Daughter of the Duke – Love Project!”, but having it confirmed was still jarring.

“The Eckharts, huh?” She made her tone as casual as possible. “By any chance, are they the ones who lost their lady?”

He shot her a funny look. “I mean no offense, miss, but have you been living under a rock? Duke Eckhart’s daughter went missing five years ago, and it was the talk of Eorka for the longest time!”

Five years? Siyeon thought. In the game, it was six… No, come to think of it, that was for normal mode.

Horror gnawed at her.

“So the lady hasn’t returned yet?”

He made a sound of disbelief. “Returned? I dare you to find a single person who thinks she’s even alive! The duke did adopt another daughter, though. What was her name again…”

Her heart thumped loudly. It couldn’t be.

“Who cares about her name? Lucky girl,” the patron at the next stall chimed in. “She was a no-name commoner, of all people, before the duke brought her in!”

The two began engaging in conversation, and Siyeon slowly backed away, vanishing into the crowd. Her head was swimming with the new epiphany she had. Given the appearance of the system window earlier, she had deduced that there was a main character who clearly wasn’t her, since it referenced an event that happened with Derrick, whom she had never even met (and she would gladly keep things this way).

Originally, she had assumed that the heroine was Ivonne. But seeing how Ivonne hadn’t returned to the duchy yet, there was no way she could have done something that caused Derrick’s affection score to drop by three percent.

A pounding headache assaulted her as she grimly concluded who the heroine was. There was only one other candidate left, specifically the protagonist of hard mode.

Penelope Eckhart.

***

Siyeon had no idea how long she wandered the streets aimlessly before she regained her senses. Fundamentally, knowing that the heroine was Penelope instead of Ivonne changed nothing.

Her main objective remained the same: helping the heroine reach a hundred percent favorability with any male lead.

With no clue how she ended up in this world, there was one last glimmer of hope she could latch onto, which was to complete the game and return to Korea. She was grasping at straws, she knew, but she refused to give up and accept her new reality. She simply couldn’t.

Not when she had just achieved her freedom. A lump lodged itself in her throat as she thought back to her life in Korea, where she had finally escaped her hellish household… only to end up here. She gritted her teeth. She might as well have gone from out of the frying pan straight into the fire. No, even that would have been preferable.

Thankfully, the system window had given her a huge hint – from the penalty, she discerned that affection scores existed, and if so, perhaps the mechanics here were similar to the actual game. Therefore, to reach the ending of the game, theoretically she had to help the heroine raise a male lead’s favorability to the maximum.

Her mind whirled as she contemplated her next steps. She needed to establish contact with Penelope, but that was easier said than done. She couldn't just storm up to the Eckhart estate and demand an audience with Penelope. At best, she would get thrown out, and at worst, her head would roll.

No, she must find a discreet way to contact Penelope. Was there any information from the game that could be helpful? Damn it, if only she could access the game system’s function of containing a list of quests, that way she could check which stage of hard mode she was at…

Ping!

◇ System ◇

QUEST LOG

Ongoing:

-

Upcoming:

Side mission <Going to the Boutique>

Event quest <The Crown Prince’s Homecoming 

Banquet> 

Advance to discover more quests!

Siyeon stared numbly at the system window for a long while, before an incredulous chuckle escaped her lips. Well, perhaps one thing was going her way, after all.

Going to the boutique?

She racked her mind, dredging up memories of the game she was playing literally an hour ago. If it was a mission that took place before the crown prince’s homecoming banquet, then it must be…

Ah, so it’s that.

Her lips twisted in annoyance as she recalled the horrendous multiple choice answers that she was forced to choose between. There was no good option. Wouldn’t lending Penelope a helping hand increase the girl’s trust in her as well as her own credibility?

Yes, starting here would be wise. Except…

She frowned as another thought hit her. What if Penelope was subjected to the game’s multiple choice answers as well?

Ping!

◇ System ◇

HELP MENU

Multiple choice answers are automatically

disabled in Version 3.4.2 for more in-depth play.

… It was a little eerie how the system was able to read her thoughts. She tried asking it for help to return to Korea, but the system window remained unbudging. It appeared that it could at most clarify questions pertaining to existing elements of the game itself. At least now she didn’t have to worry about Penelope’s actions being restricted by the game.

Siyeon meandered around randomly as she ruminated over her plight, but she paused in front of a patisserie. The name of the shop, WONDERLAND DELIGHTS, stood out to her.

Where have I seen it before… Oh!

In normal mode, it was mentioned in passing, just once, by Winter Verdandi to the heroine, Ivonne. The patisserie served as a cover for his information guild, and by providing the correct secret code, the customer would be brought to one of his brokers where they could state their request.

Years of studying rigorously to get into her current university paid off; her memory was exceptional, if she dared say so herself.

Her mind worked overtime, slotting each bit of information she possessed into its right position and sieving out the missing puzzle pieces that she still needed to grasp. A plan began forming, still wholly incomplete and rife with loopholes, yet within its evolving patchwork, she now had a direction to strive toward.

Penelope Eckhart…

Siyeon thought of the poor girl who kept dying in the game after being tormented by everyone around her. In a way, their lives were painfully similar.

… Live. You cannot die. Because I’m betting everything on you.

Chapter Text

The view of the perfectly clear sky outside her window greatly annoyed Penelope, who was currently punching her pillow half-heartedly. If it was raining, she could at least have an excuse to wallow in her self-pity and postpone her outing. But no, she had to follow the duke’s order to visit the boutique and commission a dress for the crown prince’s homecoming banquet. Usually she would have been delighted at the prospect, but not right now when all she wanted to do was sink in her misery.

The Eckharts were wealthy enough that they could have called the dressmaker over to their estate, so why did she have to make the trip to the store? She sighed as she recalled her father’s heated reply.

“Being holed up in the house all day won’t do you any good! You should be socializing with other ladies of your age.”

Her attempt to argue that it was Derrick who confined her movements all along under the pretext of her ill conduct was for naught. The duke’s command was absolute, and she couldn’t change his mind. The only good thing that came out of that suffocating conversation was she emerged unscathed from the incident at her birthday banquet.

When Reynold found out about it, he had barged into the duke’s study and made such a racket that the nearby servants were all privy to his outburst. According to the gossip Penelope overheard, her elder brother was upset at the “blatant favoritism” their father was showing to her.

“Didn’t you see with your own eyes? That lowly thing humiliated me at yesterday’s banquet!”

“She only did that because you insulted her first, and do not call your sister such foul names. I overlooked your behavior last night, but that will now be rectified. Reynold, you are to clean the stables for one week as your punishment.”

The maids who were reenacting the scene were so passionate that they failed to notice Penelope standing there, gawking at them. What surprised her the most was that the duke took her side. That he defended her over Reynold.

So why didn’t he do that when she was accused of stealing a necklace that she never did?

As always, her mind went terrifyingly blank when memories of that day rose. She buried them deep inside of her and sealed them away, where they lay in slumber until the next time they surfaced to harrow her.

Someone knocked on her door.

“My lady, it’s me.”

“Come in.”

Emily entered, yawning, swinging a feather dust lazily in her hand. Penelope studied her disapprovingly. Who was the mistress and who was the maid here?

“I’ll just tidy things up a bit and then we can prepare for your outing –” Emily broke off midway through her speech. “My lady, were you exchanging correspondence with someone?”

Penelope paused in the middle of fluffing up her poor dented pillow so she could pound her fists into it again. “What are you babbling about?”

Emily pointed at a thin envelope sitting on the center of the desk. “There’s a letter addressed to you, though?”

Penelope straightened, taken aback. A letter… for her? She didn’t recall anyone delivering such a thing to her. She scrambled forward, intrigued despite herself. “Let me see.”

Emily handed the black envelope to her. Inscribed in magenta lettering were the words, “TO PENELOPE ECKHART”.

The curious recipient tore open the envelope unhesitantly, fingers latching onto the pink paper within. Was it scented with roses? The fragrance diffused through her bedroom, momentarily distracting her. She unfolded the crisp letter, eyes skipping over the embossed flower patterns to the lines of neat handwriting.

Dear Lady Penelope,

You don’t know me, but I know all about you. You have no reason to trust me now, so I’ll prove myself with this parting advice: Edmund Trenodyn was a street urchin before he was adopted by the late marquis when he was four. Remember this well.

C. S. Y.

Penelope’s brows crumpled as she read the letter.

“What? That’s it?” she demanded. She even turned the letter over, but it was blank on the other side. “What is this bullshit!” She tossed the paper away, peeved that it made her entertain thoughts of a secret admirer sending her love letters. Why else would the writer use stationery that was so… so lovey-dovey!

Suppressing a growl, she waved Emily over to help her with preparations for going out. She was initially reluctant to leave, but after reading the letter, she supposed that getting some fresh air would do her some good.

On her way to the carriage, however, she bumped into someone she most definitely did not want to see.

“Br… Brother.”

Reynold halted in front of her, sweat dripping from his body along with the stench of manure. Bits of hay clung to his clothes and hair. She realized that he was on his way back from cleaning the stables. She should have taken another route, but it was too late now.

His face twisted into a scowl. Dark animosity glittered in his eyes. Yet uncharacteristically, he didn’t say anything.

Penelope swallowed. “Um… Are you alright?”

It was like this every time they fought. Penelope would cave first, and be the one to extend an olive branch. Reynold would snatch it only to stab her in the heart with it when she least expected it. It was a cycle of bitter hatred and strained conciliations that chipped away at her fortitude each time.

He laughed. That grating sound caused her to flinch.

“… Am I alright? Wasn’t this exactly what you were hoping for? Tell me, did you dance with joy when you heard about Father’s punishment?”

Her hands balled into fists. “Forget it. I don’t even know why I was worried about you.”

“Worried about me?” he scoffed. “You?” He took a step nearer to her. “Why?” His lips stretched into a snarl. “Who are you to worry about me?”

“Because I’m your sister.”

Silence so loud that it drowned out all senses wrapped around the two.

“Isn’t that right?” Penelope stared at him, hopeful and pleading. Take it, she thought. The hand I’m offering you.

Reynold’s gaze flickered with a storm of emotions. Then it hardened.

“My only sister,” he leaned closer, whispering into her ear, “is dead.”

He stalked away, leaving her behind, battered and bruised by words that cut deeper than any sword could. Penelope exhaled a shaky breath, blinking away the irksome dampness in her eyes.

… Like always, Reynold knew where to strike her where it would hurt the most. And like always, she took the hit silently, even if it tore her apart and left her still-beating heart somewhere on the ground, ripped straight from her chest and trampled all over.

***

Penelope flipped through the catalog, not seeing the vibrant designs that flashed by. The clerk wrung her hands nervously, gulping at the cold expression on her face.

“A-are our items u-un-unsatisfactory to you, my lady?”

“Hmm?” Penelope glanced up disinterestedly. “Well, they’re so-so, I guess.”

The clerk paled dramatically. “I-if that’s the case, I’ll get you another catalog –”

“It’s fine.” She closed the book and stood. “I want a modified combination of numbers thirteen and twenty-four.”

“Oh, yes!”

“You already have my measurements, so adjust the size of the dress appropriately and send it to the Eckhart duchy when it’s ready for fitting.”

“Of course, my lady.” The clerk quickly took the catalog from her. “Please have a nice day.”

I feel like I’m getting kicked out of the store, Penelope thought, annoyed. Am I truly this scary?

The bell on the door rang as it opened, and a blond entered with a gaggle of ladies behind her.

“Oh! If it isn’t Lady Penelope,” a high-pitched voice called out. “Greetings to you, my lady.” Her followers all murmured the same lukewarm greeting.

Penelope grimaced. Today was really a series of troublesome events, one after the other.

“Lady Bianca,” she said unenthusiastically. “What a coincidence.” She didn’t even spare a glance at Bianca’s other followers, who were from lower nobility and thus didn’t necessitate a greeting from her. Bianca, however, was the daughter of a marquis, and social norms dictated that Penelope had to return her greeting – or risk being called an uncivilized chimpanzee.

Been there, done that, she thought with dark humor.

Bianca’s eyes darted across the boutique. Seeing that Penelope was alone, her smile sharpened.

“My poor lady,” she said abruptly, plastering on a sympathetic smile. “You don’t have to pretend in front of us.”

Penelope’s eyes narrowed. What kind of show is she putting on?

“You’re being ostracized by the members of the duchy, aren’t you? I was at your birthday banquet, you know. I saw how Lord Reynold shouted at you. I half-thought he was going to raise his hand against you!”

Penelope stared at her unimpressively before she shrugged. “Your concern is vastly unneeded. So shut your trap… before I make you. You are aware of my reputation, right?”

Bianca’s expression twitched. She clearly wasn’t expecting Penelope to be so unruffled or direct. A little bit of fear seeped into her eyes, but she continued in a saccharine tone, “And that is the difference between me and you, my lady. I pity you for your ill-bred ways, but really, you are not to be blamed. Who can fault you for the lowly blood in you that is out of your control? Who can fault you for being adopted by His Grace, instead of being born his daughter?”

Bianca gave her a patronizing smile. “So I understand you completely, my lady.”

The ladies behind Bianca tittered. Even the other customers who were paying attention to this exchange were sniggering openly.

Penelope bit her lip. Her hand by her side trembled, itching to rake her nails down Bianca’s face. But she couldn’t summon a word of protest. Because it was true. She was a nobody before the duke brought her in, and Bianca was descended from the noble Trenodyn lineage –

Her mind snagged onto the detail mentioned in the mysterious letter. Edmund Trenodyn was the current marquis, and Bianca’s father. But if the sender of the letter was telling the truth, then…

Before she could second-guess herself, Penelope was already saying, “It’s only natural that you would understand my situation.”

Bianca frowned. Penelope covered her mouth partially with one hand, the perfect smirk of a villainess on her lips.

“Ah, didn’t you know? Marquis Trenodyn was an orphan himself prior to his adoption.”

“What?” Bianca shrieked. “You – You dare defile –”

“Defile?” Penelope repeated, arching a brow. “I guess you lacked knowledge of even your own ancestral history. Be careful who you’re accusing. Who’s the ill-bred one now?”

Bianca sputtered, too stunned to counter her.

One of the ladies behind her mused aloud, “Now that I think about it, Father did tell me once that Marquis Trenodyn was adopted… Eep!” She shrank back when Bianca shot her a look filled with pure venom.

“You – I won’t forget about this,” Bianca hissed, her face burning.

Penelope picked at her nails leisurely. “Yeah, I hope you remember this for a very, very long time.”

“Ugh!” Bianca turned on her heels and stormed out of the store, her blonde curls bouncing vigorously. The other ladies gaped at Penelope, seemingly at a loss for words. She wasn’t about to stay and find out their reaction, though.

“Let’s go.”

“Yes?” Emily squeaked out, startling.

She trailed after Penelope, who left while whistling under her breath cheerily. That felt refreshing. She could barely recall the last time she had won an argument with her words instead of her hands. Verbal spars involving her usually ended with slaps, tea hurling, sometimes even hair pulling… Who knew she had it in her to be quite this eloquent?

She giggled. Happiness blossomed in her, even though she knew it was a fleeting joy. Still, she ought to cherish it while it lasted. It wasn’t until she returned to the estate that she remembered the mystifying letter sender whose information had contributed to her triumph over Bianca.

C.S.Y… Who are they, and why are they helping me?

She pondered over it until sleep claimed her. Yet never in her wildest dream would Penelope have ever guessed the correct answer.

Chapter Text

There were some things that simply shouldn't be scrimped on, and lodgings were one of them, as Siyeon found out first-hand.

The moldy, peeling paint on the wall and meager furniture with only one single bed and a side table reminded Siyeon of her living conditions back on Earth, before her mother passed away, where they barely scraped by each day. Despite how much they struggled back then, she would have given anything to return to that time before all happiness was sapped out of her in her new miserable household.

Siyeon perched on the edge of her lumpy mattress and counted the coins in her pouch. She had twenty-three gold and fourteen silver left after her dealings with Winter’s information guild and spending money on this shabby inn.

Tring!

◇ System ◇

Side mission

Going to the Boutique

Completed!

[Reward: Reputation ▲10, Fame ▲10]

Siyeon froze, eyes locked onto the screen intensely. She couldn’t recall the exact wording of the three multiple choices she was given in the game, but she knew that even when she successfully accomplished this side mission, she never received any rewards for it.

Somehow, the knowledge that things could deviate from the game, however slightly, simultaneously filled her with both trepidant hope and dread. One thing was for sure: things would only get more unpredictable from now.

Regardless, even that daunting thought was not enough to dampen her mood. It only improved further when she bought a copy of today’s paper while browsing the streets for more clothes, soaking in the front-page headlines: Lady Penelope Left Marquis’s Heiress Speechless With Her Refined Retort!

Siyeon smiled, brief and imperceptible, as she read the first page, detailing a doubtlessly exaggerated account of when went down in the boutique. Nevertheless, it painted Penelope in a good light for once, and most importantly, ensured her that Penelope had indeed read her letter.

So her plan was working.

And it better damn well be, given how difficult it was to orchestrate it so that all the pieces would fall perfectly into their place. That was discounting using her precious gold to buy information about Marquis Trenodyn from the White Rabbit Guild, and then later paying even more gold to deliver the letter safely to Penelope.

At least the next stage of her plan didn’t require any ridiculous splurging… for now. Although she would still need to pay Winter’s guild to help her send another letter eventually.

Siyeon turned the page, intending to brush up on her grasp of Eorka’s current affairs, and this time her good mood soured drastically at the header, which declared: A Hero’s Homecoming – The Crown Prince Finally Returns Victorious From War!

Her lips turned down. She tossed aside the paper in favor of pacing her cramped room.

Any mention of Callisto Regulus, Eorka’s sadistic crown prince and the man who killed in-game Penelope the most number of times, made her vastly annoyed… and scared out of her wits. She never wanted to cross paths with him. Ever.

Siyeon suppressed a shudder as her mind conjured up the image of the prince who was utterly enamored with the female lead in normal mode, but so ruthlessly cruel to poor Penelope in hard mode. Wouldn’t he squash her like an inconsequential fly if they were to ever meet?

No thanks, she thought grimly. Let’s not get anywhere near that bastard!

Thinking of Callisto naturally led Siyeon to ponder over the other four male leads. There were the Eckhart siblings, of course. Siyeon despised them too, for they reminded her too much of her own reprehensible siblings. After Callisto, they were the next two to be avoided like the plague.

Then there was Winter Verdandi – a dignified marquis to the rest of Eorka, but secretly hiding his true identity as a sorcerer. She had never encountered him in hard mode, but personality-wise he seemed the best, excluding the very large red flag that he brought back Ivonne in the original storyline. He was also completely devoted to her, protecting her from the schemes of the vile villainess Penelope.

That left only the last male target who was also the one Siyeon was most hopeful about: Eckles, a slave from the fallen kingdom of Delman. The only target who had shown sympathy toward the villainess even until her bitter end.

I’ll focus primarily on Eckles while working on Winter as a back-up plan, Siyeon decided. Perhaps it was callous of her, but she had no room to think of the male targets as fellow human beings when her own life was in such a precarious position.

Siyeon left the inn, heading to the patisserie she visited the day before, which stood proudly in the middle of the busy cobblestone street. The bell chimed when she entered, and a server was by her side in seconds.

“Welcome. Please let me guide you to your seat.”

Siyeon cleared her throat lightly and recited, “There is no need for that. I would like to arrange for a dozen raspberry macarons to be taken away.”

The server’s gaze shifted, as he looked at her with renewed purpose. He straightened, murmuring, “Unfortunately, we don’t have them on display. However, if you're fond of a more exclusive flavor, I could instead prepare a special assortment just for you. Please, follow me, and we can discuss the details in a quieter setting.”

He led her deeper into the establishment, passing through the same velvet separator that Siyeon did the first time she came here, and stopped in front of a wooden door at the end of a long hallway. He rapped smartly, and turned the knob, opening the door.

“Please, do enter.”

Siyeon stepped in, heading straight for the couch facing the mahogany desk that a redhead was currently seated behind.

“Miss Cecelia,” the broker said, a courteous smile on her face. “Have you come to follow up on your previous request?”

Siyeon sat on the couch, affirming, “Yes. I would like to send another letter to Lady Penelope.”

“Certainly. Please write down the contents of your letter on this paper and seal it in the envelope.”

As Siyeon began to pen down the next set of instructions to Penelope, she willed her hand not to tremble. The next stage was even grander than the last, so the fall would be all the more painful should it fail.

***

A bizarre outcome of Penelope’s run-in with Bianca was Emily’s resultant subservient attitude toward her. Penelope woke up one day and found that the throbbing in her arm had dulled to a stinging ache, and downright gaped at Emily when the younger girl confessed her crime and apologized profusely.

“You were just… too cool, my lady! I want to properly serve you as my mistress from now on!” Emily had only explained in an adamant tone when Penelope probed her warily. Yet Penelope was no pushover, so she couldn’t exactly embrace Emily with open arms. She kept the girl at bay, wanting her to prove her worth and loyalty.

However, as with all things, something good must be balanced by something bad of equal magnitude. Penelope nearly jumped out of her skin when the door to her bedroom slammed open and Reynold barged in unceremoniously, madly waving a rolled-up newspaper around as he raved about her altercation with Bianca.

“… bringing disgrace and unwanted attention –”

“Brother,” she interrupted peevishly, “if you’ve actually read that article, you would know that it was praising me!”

“Of course it was praising you, what else could it say about – wait, what did you say? Praising you?” Reynold unfurled the paper, the thin pulp rustling noisily, and pored over it with pinched brows.

Penelope wanted to dig around in his skull and help him locate his brain, especially when he scratched his head somewhat sheepishly and mumbled, “Hmm, I suppose I misread some details…”

“Misread? I bet you didn’t bother to read it,” she muttered. “Get out of my room if you’re only going to be a nuisance!”

Reynold glowered at her. “Anyway, no matter how you think about it, it’s suspicious! In the past, your first reaction would have been to tear out that bitch’s hair for even looking at you the wrong way, so it was only natural for me to blame you first!”

“Are you seriously trying to justify yourself now?” she replied incredulously. “And I’ve been… um… brushing up on my etiquette! Yeah! Don’t you know how hard I study these days?” It was all utter bullcrap anyway. “Or did you think I just lazed around all day doing nothing except being a bum?”

It was patently clear, from his expression, that that was in fact what he thought of her.

Her cheeks puffed up indignantly. “Leave! Now!”

And thus, he was kicked out of her room.

After the whirlwind that brought Reynold to her room subsided, Penelope still didn’t attain peace. No, she had to attend family dinner, and for the first time in a long while, she contemplated not going, despite the duke’s presence. Her relationship with Derrick was still sour from her birthday banquet incident, and she was on bad terms with Reynold again. Ultimately, she went only because it was not worth the effort of having to explain her absence.

Why was everything so tiring in this damn household?

Some days, even the simple act of breathing felt like it was smothering her alive. On those days, she dared not close her eyes for fear of slipping into an eternal dream.

When she stepped into the dining room, it was a small mercy that Derrick did not reprimand her for being late, though the layer of frost in his eyes more than made up for it.

“Let’s eat,” Duke Eckhart said mildly. With his words, the servants rolled in trays of food and laid them on the table.

Perhaps the duke’s decision to host a family dinner was relayed on short notice, causing the maids not to have time to play any cruel tricks on Penelope. Her utensils were all working perfectly fine, and she was served the same food as her father and brothers. For the first time in ages, she found her tense shoulders relaxing as she dug in heartily. Maybe she wouldn’t have to eat the digestive medicine she smuggled from the kitchen.

“Father, have you thought through Count Wanshette’s proposal?” Derrick asked the duke nearing the end of their meal.

“Do you mean regarding his latest sea trading project, or…” The duke’s eyes slanted to Penelope while he left his words unfinished.

Derrick’s demeanor grew hostile as he scowled. If Penelope strained her sight, she swore she could see fumes pouring out of his ears. “The former. We already agreed to decline the…” here he trailed off ambiguously.

The duke nodded his head, his eyes stormy. “Of course. There was no need to even consider that absurd, nonsensical, wretched request.”

Penelope cocked her head, curious as to what could have agitated her father so much. “What request?”

“Yeah, what request?” Reynold pressed, looking upset to be left out of the loop. Her brother was an open book, albeit one that would try to eat the hand of any reader that so much as came near him.

The duke coughed awkwardly. “It was nothing of consequence. Anyway, I have decided to invest in the count’s newest venture. As much as I hate that old fart, it’s undeniable that his business sense is unparalleled.” Coming from the duke, that was high praise indeed.

Dinner resumed without further commotion, though Penelope was nearly driven to craziness as she pondered over the undisclosed request. But with both her father and brother having firmly shut the topic, there was no hope of her ever unearthing it.

“Penelope, I heard about the incident involving Marquis Trenodyn’s daughter at the boutique,” the duke abruptly mentioned.

Her grip on her fork tightened. She was hoping he would not bring it up.

“Yes, Your Grace.”

A muscle in his jaw ticked at her term of address, but he continued, “You did well handling that incident. Is there any reward you would like?”

“Yes, Your –” Penelope answered mechanically, before her mind caught up to her father’s words. She whirled to face him. “Come again?"

He dabbed at his mouth with a napkin. “A reward. You deserve it for not resorting to your usual… uncouth methods. Consider it a late birthday present from me.”

“Father.” Derrick’s voice seemed to be coming out through clenched teeth. Clearly, he disagreed.

“Um… I will think about it,” she replied faintly, still doubting her ears.

“Good. An Eckhart never yields.”

After dinner, Penelope returned to her room, churning over the unexpected boon from her father. What should she ask for? More dresses? New shoes? Perhaps a rare piece of jewelry?

However, those thoughts left her mind completely when she saw what awaited her on her desk – a black envelope with familiar magenta lettering. Right, it was only because of the information from “C.S.Y.” that her father bestowed her a reward.

Penelope reached forward and grabbed the envelope, excitement and apprehension warring for dominance inside of her. She took a deep breath and tore it open.

Chapter Text

“My lady, are you sure I can eat this?” Emily confirmed again, holding a decadent apple tart in her hand.

“Yeah, yeah, eat all of them… I have no appetite anyway,” Penelope said off-handedly, lounging on her bed with her head propped on her hand.

The maid’s face brightened. “Then I’ll dig in!” She threw the tart into her mouth and squealed in delight.

It was teatime, and as usual, a plethora of desserts was served to Penelope in her bedroom. But unlike usual, she wasn’t delving into the sweets with gusto. Instead, for the umpteenth time, she reread the crumpled letter from her enigmatic sender, her brows furrowed and her palms indented with nail marks.

Dear Lady Penelope,

I see that you have heeded my previous advice to marvelous results. Shall we take it a step further? I am aware that Duke Eckhart plans to invest in Count Wanshette’s ship trading business. You must convince him otherwise. As for the hint this time… Try calling him “Father”.

C. S. Y.

Letting out a heavy sigh, Penelope balled up the letter and chucked it aside. That letter had kept her up the whole night, and now she looked like a mess. Not to mention her own thoughts were in a mess as well!

With the giddiness of the confrontation with Bianca having mostly worn off, her impression of “C.S.Y.” was split between a shady ally and a cunning enemy. Were they trying to get close to Penelope out of genuine goodwill, or in a devious attempt to sabotage her? If it was the latter, she didn’t know whether to be flattered or furious that someone orchestrated such an elaborate scheme just to bring her to ruin. And why was she letting this stranger get to her so much?

She swung her legs over the side of her bed and stood up, smoothing out the creases in her skirt.

“Emily.”

“Yes, my lady?”

“I’m going to see the duke.”

Emily’s cookie dropped from her hand, alongside her jaw. “Pardon? But you don’t have a good rela–” She clapped her hands over her mouth, but Penelope already knew what she wanted to say.

In the first place, Penelope would only seek out the duke once in a blue moon. Her audiences with him were far and few between, and more often than not a harsh scolding for one indiscretion or another. Family meals were one of the few opportunities she got to spend time with him, so no matter how torturous they were, she forced herself to attend each of them.

She stalked out of her room, gathering the flimsy scraps of her courage around her shaky legs. A small voice in her mind, the only functioning part left, hissed at her to turn around and abort her half-baked plan right now. But her limbs continued moving stiffly on their own as though being controlled by invisible strings.

She paused outside the imposing double doors leading to her father’s study, a knot of unease forming in her stomach. She raised her hand and knocked lightly.

“Your Grace, it’s me.”

The ensuing silence stretched for so long that she half-wondered if her father wasn’t here.

“Come in.”

Penelope entered, dragging her feet until she was standing in front of her father. A mountain of documents cluttered his desk, illuminated by the shafts of sunlight streaming through the windows. There were more lines on his forehead than she remembered, and dark bags hung heavily below his eyes, which were unreadable as always. Yet she detected the barest hint of curiosity and apprehension swimming in their frozen depths.

“Penelope…” the duke began, steepling his fingers. “I must say, it’s quite rare for you to visit me. Have you decided on what your request will be?”

Frankly, she had all but forgotten about it in light of the new letter she had received yesterday. She contemplated using it now, and decided she would as a last resort.

“Um, no, Your Grace, that wasn’t what I came here for.” The script that she had prepared fled her mind, and she decided to cut to the chase. “I heard that you intend to invest in Count Wanshette’s latest venture,” she broached carefully.

The duke blinked in surprise, but nodded. “Yes, it’s true. Do you have any objections to it?”

It was the perfect opening for her. She clenched her fists and said in a rush, “Indeed, I object to it! Please don't invest in his business!”

Silence.

Penelope kind of wished the floor could open up and swallow her whole already. She forced herself to maintain eye contact with her father until her eyelids began twitching like crazy. She had read a book titled The Art of Persuasion: How To Get Your Way In Life two years ago, and she was quite certain the author mentioned the importance of seeing the eyes of the other party.

Or maybe it was seeing eye to eye with the other party? Her absent-minded thoughts were interrupted by the duke’s voice.

“Perhaps you can explain your objection,” he said, sounding like he was struggling to keep his tone neutral.

“Ah, yes.” Penelope lifted her chin higher. “You see, I believe what sounds good on paper may not be as good in actuality. Such an investment is too risky and unfounded. Furthermore, this Count Wanshette person, doesn’t he sound really iffy?”

The duke raised a brow at her choice of word. “Iffy?”

“Right, I’ve heard nasty rumors about him! You may be unaware because we move in different social circles, but oh my, if you’ve heard half the things I have about him, you would be running away screaming in the other direction!”

Alright, that might have been a tad over-exaggerative, Penelope admitted. Her father pressed two fingers against his forehead and sighed deeply, muttering something beneath his breath that sounded suspiciously like “This child doesn’t even have any friends to gossip with”, instantly raising Penelope’s hackles.

Fine, she was friendless, but did he have to spell it out that plainly?

“Penelope, I’ve always indulged you, but I draw the line at you interfering with the duchy’s financial affairs, especially when you’re so wholly ignorant of them. If you came here only to say this, then I have to ask you to leave.”

“But –”

“Enough is enough. I don’t want to ruin our time together with another reprimand.”

Her teeth ground together under the weight of her father’s unbudging will. Should she use the request now? No, there was still one last thing she could try, according to the letter. But it was so embarrassing! She forced her lips to move, though only a pathetic squeak escaped.

“Penelope? Is something wrong?”

Ah, I don’t care anymore!

She squeezed her eyes shut and practically shouted, “Please reconsider, Father!”

Crack!

… What was that sound?

Penelope opened her eyes gingerly. Her father was staring at her with his mouth agape, one hand raised halfway to it. Her gaze trailed to the floor, where tea was pooling around his broken cup.

“Say…” Her eyes snapped to his widened ones. “Say that again.”

“Um… Please reconsider, Fa… Father?”

He blinked and blinked, shock eventually giving way to something akin to wonder. He rang the bell to signal a servant and said as calmness restored to him once more, “Alright, since you are so determined, I will give it a second thought.”

***

Amid the busy marketplace teeming with people, Siyeon stared longingly at the grilled tender meat speared onto the skewers. Surely she could spare some coins to buy several of them? But what remained of her money was running out alarmingly fast, and based on her calculations, she could barely afford another transaction with the White Rabbit Guild, let alone skewers.

Tring!

◇ System ◇

Hidden quest achieved!

Father, the Forgotten Name

[Reward: Relationship with Duke

Eckhart improved, Reputation ▲10]

Hmm… So it seems like Penelope has heeded my advice, Siyeon mused.

In the game, there was an infamous period of time in hard mode that was dubbed “Age of Deaths” by players, because the chances of bad ends were heightened to an impossible degree. And that was all because Duke Eckhart invested in a failed business, causing both Reynold and Derrick to be in prolonged bad moods and take their anger out on Penelope.

Siyeon’s intervention had hopefully put a permanent roadblock on that perilous route. She returned her attention to the skewers, stomach growling. As she debated internally over a dilemma that already had a correct answer, a young girl sidled up to her.

“Miss, would you like to buy some of my handmade desserts?”

Siyeon glanced at her, her guard instinctively rising. “Sorry, but I’m not interested.” She attempted to leave quickly, but the girl shifted to block her way.

“Are you sure? My speciality happens to be raspberry macarons.”

Siyeon whipped her head around, coming face-to-face with the girl’s knowing smile.

“I take that you have changed your mind. Kindly come with me.”

Siyeon’s mind raced with hundreds of bleak possibilities, but she forced herself to follow the girl. Several minutes later, a patisserie that Siyeon was well acquainted with came into view.

Shit, Siyeon swore in her mind. Why would the White Rabbit Guild contact me? They never did that to their clients in the game, unless there was some kind of problem. Crap, did I offend them somehow? No, think, Siyeon, think…

As she was led into the same room from last time, she found herself seated before the auburn-haired broker who was handling her request.

“Thank you for coming here on such short notice.” The woman’s steely gaze locked onto Siyeon. “I’m not going to beat about the bush. Regrettably, our guild will have to terminate your request. We humbly ask you to accept our compensation and find a different guild.” She placed a small pouch on the table, likely filled with coins.

Apart from the barest tightening of Siyeon’s lips, not a single sign of her inner distress leaked out. Instead, she said quietly, “I will pay you double for your current services.” It would deplete her entire funds, but the alternative was to look for another guild, which would require resources and time that she did not have.

“It’s not about money.”

Siyeon’s eyes sharpened. “Then? What reason could be so important that your guild would risk tainting your reputation and honor in breaking your end of the contract?” Her words came out more cutting than she intended.

“Fine, since we are the ones who first breached our side of the deal… Let me pose you one question, miss. What do you suppose is most important in our line of work?”

The question came out of the blue, but Siyeon answered after a moment’s consideration, “Confidentiality.”

“Confidentiality is a principle we uphold rigorously, yes, but beyond that, trust is the very cornerstone of our trade. Now, you must be wondering what the point of this is. It’s very simple. Miss Cecelia, we cannot trust you.” The broker leaned forward, adding, “Even the very name you gave us is false.”

Siyeon jolted. “Did you do a background check on me?” The question flew out of her lips before she could stop it.

“It’s only natural that we look into our potential clients before we establish a contract with them. Other guilds have this practice as well.”

“If that’s the case, you must know that not all your clients will be using their real names. I separated my request from my actual identity for privacy reasons,” Siyeon argued, trying to reign in her desperation.

“Yet it’s not just a matter of you using an alias. All of our attempts at unveiling your true identity have been for naught, and the furthest incident we could trace you back to was a trade with a collector at the central marketplace on Hamilton Street. It’s almost as if you don’t exist.”

Goosebumps raised along Siyeon’s skin, prickly and bumbly, as the implication of the broker’s words sank into her. What the guild had done was no simple background check – they had launched a full investigation into her. But why? Why go that far?

The phrase that the broker had used earlier popped into Siyeon’s mind. “You said it’s not about money… And it’s clear that you did a thorough investigation into me, deeper than any usual checks…” As she slowly spoke, weaving together the bits of information she had been dealt, a disturbing picture began to form in her mind. “Has another client put in a request regarding me?”

The broker’s eyes flashed. “… Our guild’s policies prevent us from disclosing the details of another client’s request.”

Right, and those same policies also stipulate that if you want to hand over my information to another client, you must first cease our contract. Siyeon was fuming internally.

Yet she plastered on a smile utterly lacking in warmth and said clippedly, “I believe I have the answer I needed. Thank you for your time.”

She didn’t forget to take her compensation money – pride wasn’t worth a lick in the face of impending privation – before she stalked out of the room, marching to the same furious beat of her heart.

Whoever was looking into her had both power and wealth, if the guild was so ready to drop her like a hot potato. And it just so happened that the only contact Siyeon had in this world fitted that description perfectly.

It seemed like the Eckharts had found her at last. But which one?

The likeliest candidate was Penelope herself, but somehow, Siyeon doubted that the girl had the influence or knowledge to pull this off. Unless she enlisted the help of the duke or her brothers?

Whatever it was, Siyeon feared that she was in over her head, and that things would only worsen till the point of no return.

Chapter Text

Penelope walked out of the duke’s study feeling like she had a cloud of fog in her brain, her steps slow and unsteady. She could hardly believe that the hint worked. She would have had an easier time wiggling out of punishments if she knew that all it took for the duke to have a change of heart was being called “Father”.

The last time she called him by that term would have been four… no, around five years ago. She had vowed never to address him as her father ever again in the aftermath of the necklace incident. And he had given little, if any, indication that he preferred otherwise. She hadn’t even though he cared. Until now, that was.

“My lady, did your talk with His Grace go well?” Emily piped up.

“I suppose,” Penelope replied dubiously. She did achieve her goal, although it left her more confused than content.

Emily summoned a smile. “That sounds great!” Her cheerful voice seemed forced to Penelope’s ears.

She glanced at her maid suspiciously. “Are you up to something shady?” she asked bluntly.

“What? N-no, of course not! I would never do such a thing to my lady!” Emily denied fervently, but Penelope’s gut twisted in unease.

As expected, her hunch was correct. The moment they returned to her room, Emily gave up on all pretense and dropped to the ground, crashing on her knees.

“Please forgive me, my lady!” she cried out.

Penelope folded her arms, glaring at the girl. “Alright. Spill. What did you do?”

Emily glanced up at her with teary eyes. “I… I’m so sorry. You’ve been so nice to me the past few days, going as far as giving me your snacks, and I did such an unforgivable thing to you.”

Penelope dragged one hand through her hair impatiently. “I am not fond of repeating myself.”

Emily lowered her eyes, stammering out, “T-the young lord noticed a change in your disposition after the incident with Lady Bianca.”

“Wait.” Penelope’s eyes narrowed. “The young lord… So my eldest brother?”

Emily nodded. “Yes. He interrogated me” – unsurprising as Emily was Penelope’s personal maid and thus the closest servant to her – “and I revealed that the only thing out of the norm you experienced was receiving a letter from an unknown sender.”

Penelope grimaced. And all this happened without her knowledge? How did Derrick not lose his cool and tear into her for accepting letters from strangers?

But Emily wasn’t done yet. She confessed in a weaker tone, “He then tasked me to get closer to you and keep an eye on your actions, and alert him if you received any more of those letters.”

Penelope ignored the slight pinching sensation in her heart. She should have known that Emily’s abrupt turnaround toward her was too good to be true. People simply didn’t change that easily.

“So did you tattle on me?” she demanded, shoving aside her own bitter feelings.

Emily shook her head vigorously. “No! I felt… bad…” She twiddled her thumbs nervously. “And I decided to be on your side from now on! I’m serious! Please trust me, my lady. I know I don’t deserve it, but please give me another chance.”

Penelope snorted. “And have you backstab me again?” Her face hardened. “I think not.”

Emily bit her bottom lip. “I can help you, my lady. Besides, I’m going against the young lord’s orders by telling you everything.” Her hands balled into two determined fists. “And I’ll give you this!”

Penelope watched as Emily dug around her skirt and withdrew a thin, sharp metallic object. She held it out meekly with one trembling hand. “Please take this. Should I fail to keep my word, you can use it as evidence for my wrongdoings.”

“That monstrous thing has pierced my skin more times than I could even count!” Penelope pointed out, scowling. Then her hand snaked out and she quickly snatched the needle. “Yet since you’re offering it to me, I might as well take it,” she muttered.

Emily visibly brightened.

“But don’t be mistaken! I’m not forgiving you,” Penelope warned.

At least not right away, she thought. When she bore a grudge she let it fester in her until only rot and ruin remained, but Emily’s action didn’t truly fall into that category. If the girl had harbored real hatred toward her, she would have had plenty of opportunities to snuff out her life.

Or perhaps she was just too much of a coward to do that, a snarky voice in Penelope’s mind whispered.

Since Emily was still kneeling, Penelope sighed and motioned for her to get up. Her neck was starting to hurt from looking down at her. She placed a palm against it, cracking it from side to side.

“Ah, I almost forgot! After the young lord questioned me, he called his aide over and ordered him to go the major information guilds and find the letter sender –”

“He did what?” Penelope interrupted, nearly twisting her neck.

Emily proceeded to repeat what she said, but Penelope wasn’t hearing a single word of it.

If Eldest Brother discovers the identity of “C.S.Y.”…

Her imagination very generously supplied a horribly gruesome and uselessly detailed scenario of him subjecting them to torture, bribing them with gold to leave Eorka and then double-crossing them by murdering them in cold blood. Their corpse would then be tossed into the sea, fed to the sharks and lost to the wrath of lingering ghosts. They might return as a vengeful ghost themselves to haunt a certain beautiful ducal lady who was the catalyst for the injustice inflicted upon them…

“No!” Penelope shrieked, arms flapping about. “Emily, we must stop that from happening at all costs!”

She rushed to her armoire, pulling out the first drawer which was filled to the brim with glistening jewels that winked at her playfully.

Wait, these are my most precious darlings! My favorites out of my entire collection!

Even at a time like this, her materialistic predilection still could not be overridden. She moved onto the second drawer, grabbed a handful of jewels at random, and stuffed them inside an empty pouch. Her heart was starting to break, but better that than it stopping to beat.

“You must have heard the names of the guilds that my eldest brother listed?”

Emily nodded. “All four of them.”

Penelope handed her the bag. “Go to those guilds and offer them double… no, triple the amount that my brother did. Tell them to redirect his request and any information to me. Use the Eckhart name if necessary.”

“Yes, my lady! I won’t let you down.”

I don’t see how you can let me down any more than you already have. Petty spitefulness laced Penelope's inner thoughts.

As Emily set off, Penelope prayed that she would make it in time. In this house that closed in on her like an oppressive cage, the existence of her mysterious helper was akin to a window showing her the outside world. If Derrick found them first, she could simply kiss her freedom goodbye.

***

Today marked one week of Siyeon’s life in her new world.

Every day she woke up praying that she would be back in Korea and that all her experiences so far were just a long drawn-out nightmare. Instead, when her eyes opened, it was to the disappointing sight of the ceiling’s decaying plaster and venous cracks.

The White Rabbit Guild’s termination of their contract had thrown a wrench in her plans. Searching for a new guild that was established enough to fulfill her request was a challenge in itself, especially with Siyeon lacking both connections and status.

From the excited chatter on the streets, there was still a week until the crown prince’s homecoming banquet, which was where the next stage of her plan would unfold. It was the final step she had in mind to gain Penelope’s trust and, based on her calculations, should also be timed perfectly after her previous phase.

More concerning than her fruitless endeavor with finding a new guild was her newfound awareness that someone, almost certainly from the Eckhart duchy, was looking for her.

As she walked around the streets aimlessly, hoping to pick up bits of useful conversations, she kept expecting someone to suddenly shove a cloth into her mouth and drag her off into some seedy alley where she would suddenly find herself slaughtered at the hands of Reynold or Derrick Eckhart.

Get a hold of yourself, she thought harshly. The game was really starting to get to her. Logically, she knew that it was broad daylight; no one was going to kidnap her –

A thick hand landed on her shoulder.

She barely stopped the scream in her throat from escaping. She spun around, high on alert, only to meet a pair of mismatched brown-and-green eyes.

“It’s you,” Siyeon said, relieved to see someone she knew.

The collector grinned at her. “And it’s you, alright! Did I give you a scare? I would recognize that black hair anywhere. It’s kinda rare around here, you know?”

“Is that so?”

She didn’t have the time to stand around and chit-chat with him, but the collector was either oblivious to her curt tone or deliberately choosing to ignore it.

“Anyway, you really brought me a windfall, so I ought to thank you.”

At her baffled expression, he explained, “After you traded your clothes with me, a passing gentleman saw their value and bought them.” He gestured toward his cart, which was loaded with his merchandise. “I’ve always wanted to conduct business at the capital, and now my dream will be realized.” He waved a bulging pouch in her face, its contents jiggling.

His bursting pouch reminded Siyeon of how paltry her own one was. “How nice,” she said, mustering what little remained of her civility. “If you’ll excuse me, I must get going –”

“Tell you what, I’ll let you choose any one of my goods at a discounted price!”

The tempting offer cut Siyeon’s words short, but then she recalled the collector’s bizarre tastes.

“It’s fine, I –”

“Don’t be shy now!” He waved for her to follow him as he began wheeling his cart. “Let’s move to somewhere less crowded.”

Siyeon sighed, wondering if she should ditch him while his back was turned, but when he signaled for her again, she reluctantly tagged along behind him. It wasn’t worth making a scene just to get rid of him. Besides, he did help her on her first day here.

As they walked, he kept up a steady stream of chatter, and introduced himself as Jamus. Siyeon didn’t offer her name, and she was glad when he resumed his prattling without pressing her for it.

They eventually stopped in the middle of an unfrequented road, which led out of Hamilton Street into a less populous part of the duchy. Jamus began proudly displaying his hoard while Siyeon feigned polite interest, trying to find an appropriate moment to interject.

“So, take your pick! Which of my impressive items has caught your eye?”

None of them.

Siyeon bit back the words, her eyes poring over the jumbled miscellany of knick-knacks – chipped teacups, a rusted key and was that a dusty book with a chewed up cover? The waning sunlight glinted off some kind of broken jewelry, making Siyeon squint. Then the obtrusive glow was blocked by a round object.

Siyeon opened her eyes, blinking at the glassy orb in front of her, which was the size of a small apple. It was pure black and showed her own reflection staring back at her.

“How about this? A one-time tracking orb that lets you know the precise location of your target. All you need is one lock of their hair. I’ll even sell it to you for just ten gold,” Jamus said in a magnanimous tone.

“How do I know it works?” Siyeon asked straight away.

He clicked his tongue. “You’re a skeptical one, aren’t you… Alas, it’s the only one in my collection. Take it or leave it.”

“Five gold,” Siyeon bargained. “Since you can’t prove its efficacy and I can’t have a free lunch, shouldn’t we reach some kind of middle ground?”

He muttered a curse beneath his breath. Siyeon smiled at him blandly.

“Pah! Five gold it is. Remind me never to do deals with you…”

“You already did.”

“I did, didn’t I? And it went splendid,” he said happily, good mood restored.

Siyeon handed him the gold, heart twinging to be parting ways with it, and shoved the orb inside the little reticule she had taken to bringing with her everywhere. Faithful to the setting of this world, women’s dresses did not come equipped with pockets, much to her frustration. She sorely missed her jeans and their versatility, glaringly conspicuous or not.

After Jamus tied up his long rambling farewell, Siyeon was glad to be rid of him and his never-ending monologues. She watched as his figure grew smaller and smaller in the distance until it was no more than a mere speck, and then summoned the quest log.

◇ System ◇

QUEST LOG

Ongoing:

-

Upcoming:

Event quest <The Crown Prince’s Homecoming 

Banquet>

Side mission <A Tea-rrific Incident>

Hidden event <???>

Advance to discover more quests!

Hidden event? These two words snagged Siyeon’s interest. Shit, it must be that one.

Though she had never experienced hidden events in hard mode since they were notorious for requiring the most absurd of requirements to be unlocked, she had heard of them in passing when her college friends discussed the game.

Please remain locked, she prayed. Meeting him would be the worst…

She knew it was unavoidable especially if things proceeded according to the game’s storyline, yet she wished to delay the inevitable for as long as she could. She just hoped that she didn’t accidentally trigger the hidden event’s prerequisites, but they were supposed to be hard to attain even on purpose.

A heavy hand landed on her shoulder, and this time, Siyeon didn’t fall for it. With a roll of her eyes, she turned around, a question on her lips.

“Did you forget somethi – oomph!”

A rough, absolutely rancid rag cloth was shoved against her mouth, and she inhaled on instinct. She choked on the revolting stench, and as darkness grew at the edge of her vision, she cursed herself for being wrong.

Apparently, one could get kidnapped in broad daylight.

Goddamn it.

Chapter Text

Sneaking out of the Eckhart manor required a skillset that was honed in Penelope through years of practice, getting caught red-handed and meticulously refining her methods. It was a painful process of trial and error, of being subjected to Derrick’s probations, and ultimately, devising the foolproof escape plan for herself!

With a grunt, she tossed the tied-up bedsheets out her window, wiping away the beads of sweat dotting her forehead. After catching her breath, she swept her hair underneath a flat cap and secured it tightly. She adjusted her shirt and pants, grinning at her reflection in the mirror. Yes, pants.

What was the fun in masquerading as a maid? Since she was going incognito, she might as well pull out all the stops and disguise herself as a page boy. It would draw less attention to her, too. The unwanted kind, at least.

“My lady, stay safe!” Emily abruptly poked her head inside her room. She was to remain outside the room and turn away any visitors (Penelope highly doubted anyone would visit her, though) with the excuse that Penelope was feeling under the weather.

Penelope did a final check to ensure she had everything she needed in her satchel, slung over one shoulder, and then climbed over the window. The sky burned a dull orange as the sun began its rapid descent, and she knew she had to hurry before dusk arrived in its full gloom.

She began to scale down the makeshift ladder expertly, having done this enough times that not even the wind billowing around her could strike fear in her, although her bedsheets trembled like a newborn fawn taking its first steps. She was fairly certain that Reynold was still cleaning the stables, so as she passed by his window, she was relieved to see his room mercifully empty. She shimmied down the last few inches and dropped to the ground, panting heavily. Unfortunately for her, skill had nothing to do with stamina.

She made her way to the doggy hole near the drill hall as the last vestiges of daylight faded away, wrapping her in still darkness. She crawled through the doggy hole and dusted off the dirt and twigs sticking to her.

Emily was surprisingly thorough, having prepared a rented carriage for her just outside the estate’s walls. Penelope spotted it easily enough. It was plain and small, designed to be utilitarian rather than ostentatious. She hoisted herself inside, and the carriage took off, the galloping of the horses in sync with her racing heart.

She was finally going to discover the identity of her letter sender!

Her excitement barely made up for the ride’s discomfort. The carriage paled in comparison to the ones used by the Eckharts; she could feel each grain in the cushioned seat poking into her butt and every single bump in the rough road causing nausea to churn in her stomach.

When they reached her destination at last, she stumbled out of the carriage, grateful for her empty stomach. She was tempted to tell the driver to go back and that she would return on foot, though luckily common sense prevailed in the end.

They were somewhere at the outskirts of the duchy, in an abandoned village that had been rebuilt elsewhere after a fire ravaged through it. Penelope picked this location because wasn’t it simply perfect for a clandestine meeting? There was no one around to bother her for miles (except maybe the souls of those who burned to death, but she wasn’t going to dwell on that). She reached inside her satchel and took out the cloak she had stuffed inside beforehand, donning it.

Well, it wasn’t really necessary, but it added to her air of mystery and helped stave off the cold.

She made her way through the rubble, careful not to trip. Remnants of charred huts and blackened rocks were strewn all around her, the only reminder of the sleepy village the place once was. Now, it was no more than a pile of forgotten debris. Or perhaps it wasn’t that forgotten, since she was here, after all, and so was her quarry.

Crunch.

She jumped and whirled around. Her eyes peered into the darkness, which peered back at her. There was no one around except for her and her overactive imagination. Still, she hurried on, grateful for her cloak that acted as a flimsy shield.

The only building that stood largely intact in the center of the village was the town house, where the village chief would hold regular meetings with the rest of the villagers to settle their internal affairs. In front of the rotting staircase stood two masked men, arms tightly folded across their wide chests.

Penelope made a shooing motion with her hand. “Step aside.”

One of the men said insincerely, “Sorry, no can do. Only the lady can pass.”

She glared at him. “Get your eyesight checked because I am the lady.”

His companion elbowed him. “She’s right, y’know. Sorry for the discourtesy, m’lady.”

She breezed past them, stomping up the stairs.

“Like an elephant, that one,” the first guy murmured.

“I can still hear you!” she hollered down, stomping even louder.

The moment she reached home, she was so going to have a talk with Emily about never hiring those guys again. They were from a mercenary guild that Emily’s friend was acquainted with, but kind of work attitude was that?

There was yet another mercenary waiting inside the common hall on the second floor, but he only dipped his head wordlessly in greeting before he left to wait outside, giving Penelope some privacy. The interior was dim, and she stepped in, nervous energy thrumming through her.

She could see a figure hunched over a chair, head lying on the oval table and long hair splayed across the tabletop. As her eyes adjusted to the darkness, she realized that the person was a woman, though her facial features were obstructed by her hair. And were those ropes binding the woman?

Who the hell told those brainless blockheads to tie her up?! Penelope thought, flabbergasted.

The questionability of her current situation at last set in. Here was an unconscious, tied-up woman, brought here without her consent, and Penelope was currently leering at her like some kind of creepy stalker!

She cleared her throat, determined to clear up this misunderstanding that her brain had concocted. “Excuse me.”

She felt a bit silly, talking into the air like that, and when there was no response from the woman, she tapped loudly on the table.

“You, there. Er. Can you wake up?” she asked, but her arrogant tone made it sound more like an order. “I feel quite awkward, rambling to myself like this. I don’t do this often. Or at all,” she added hastily.

When the woman didn’t so much as twitch, she stamped one foot on the ground petulantly and demanded, “Stop sleeping! I’m here. Yes, you are in the presence of the ever so lovely Penelope Eckhart!”

At Penelope’s name, the woman stirred, and Penelope jolted, not mentally prepared for her awakening despite being the one to rouse her.

What should I say? “You kept me waiting?” Ew, that’s too mushy! “We meet at last?” It sounds like I’m challenging her to a fight!

With a groan, the woman slowly lifted her head, allowing Penelope to take in her visage. Her lips were a subtle coral tint, and her dark onyx eyes glittered, tendrils of hair falling into them like ink, rendering Penelope incapable of thinking anything else but one singular fact.

She was beautiful.

***

She was noisy.

It was as though Siyeon was submerged underwater with all her senses dulled and clogged up, but a high-pitched voice managed to penetrate the thick waves of her mind and jab into her flickering consciousness, like an annoying buzzing fly.

Amid the indistinct words that blended together into an incoherent language, Siyeon caught two words that made her awareness flare to life.

Penelope Eckhart.

Her slow, sinking descent into the tranquil embrace of the sea was abruptly brought to a jerking halt, and she started rising once more, dragged upward by an invisible force against the treacherous depths caging her in her own subconscious.

A weak groan escaped her lips, and she raised her head that was sloshing with molten lead. For some reason her arms were stuck to her side, and when she tried moving them, they stubbornly refused to listen.

“You certainly took your own sweet time to wake up,” a voice said, and Siyeon detected a hint of a haughty undertone.

As her blurry vision cleared, the petite silhouette standing in front of her gradually came into focus. When Siyeon spoke, her voice was scratchy, “Who are you…”

Even as she asked her question, she already knew the answer. The sheer will and vibrant life captured in those turquoise eyes gave her identity away, even if her arresting looks and conceited demeanor did not.

“Do you not recognize me?” One hand reached up, yanking her cap away. A cascade of magenta curls tumbled down, swaying gently. “I’m Penelope Eckhart.”

The illustrations of the villainess in the game did not do her justice. They could not replicate the sheer ferocity of her cold, unyielding beauty that stole the breath of the beholder, like a fallen angel bestowing a kiss of death. In her past life, Siyeon had seen plenty of attractive people, both real and fictional, but none of them could possibly hold a candle to Penelope.

Penelope swept back her long hair, breaking the spell by saying, “Hmm, this is less satisfying than I expected. I thought you would be someone more… You know. Fierce. Wise.” She waved a hand. “Your appearance doesn't really tally with your actions.”

“Appearances can be deceiving,” Siyeon said, her voice still raspy.

“Ha! Are you admitting that you’re a swindler?” Penelope jabbed one finger at her accusingly. “I – I knew it! You were up to no good, weren’t you?”

“And words can be twisted,” Siyeon muttered, her patience running even thinner with Penelope’s tendency to jump to conclusions. “Before we resume our conversation, can I ask you to untie me?”

The ropes were biting into her skin uncomfortably, causing her limbs to throb with a dull pain. She wasn’t even sure why she was tied up like this. Did Penelope view her as a threat? That aside, Penelope was the one looking for her? Odd, since she had suspected Derrick’s involvement.

As Penelope drew nearer to her, the gravity of Siyeon’s situation sank in fully. Was it because she was finally seeing a character from the game? Yet right now, as Penelope’s hair brushed lightly against her arm, sending prickly goosebumps skittering, she didn’t feel like a fictional character. Rather, she felt so… real. So tangible. So utterly alive.

It was surreal.

While Penelope grappled with the ropes, Siyeon used the time to compose her thoughts for the inevitable questions that would come her way later. Penelope took forever to loosen the ropes, and from there Siyeon could untangle them herself. She rubbed her sore arms, flexing them as her blood flow returned to normal.

Penelope slammed one hand onto the table intimidatingly, but the effect was somewhat reduced by her subsequent wince.

“You. I think it’s time you tell me who you are, and how you know so much about me.”

Siyeon leveled her with an unfazed gaze. “Certainly. My name is Cha Siyeon.”

There was no point in using a fake alias. Moreover, it would be disastrous if she was caught lying. She had to gain Penelope’s trust, not lose it.

Penelope’s brows knitted together. “Jashiyon?” she repeated.

“Cha. Si. Yeon,” Siyeon emphasized each syllable slowly. “You can call me Siyeon.”

“Siyeon…” Penelope rolled the name over her tongue. At least she didn’t butcher it this time. “What an unusual name. It gets better after a while, though.”

“Thanks,” Siyeon said dryly. “Regarding why I know so much about you… Frankly speaking, I doubt you’ll believe the real truth.”

She had Penelope’s undivided attention now. “Tell me,” she probed. “Nothing is too far-fetched! Whether it’s fantasy or horror or somewhere in between, I’m ready to accept anything!”

“Well…” Siyeon purposely dragged out the word, laying it thick on her hesitance. “To explain everything, I’ll have to go way back, all the way to my childhood. You see” – here Siyeon called upon every ounce of her acting ability and deepened her voice, making it as dramatic as possible – “I’ve always had a rather special ability.”

Penelope’s wide eyes stared into hers, completely enraptured. “Uh-huh?”

Siyeon stretched out the pause for just a second longer. Then she whispered, as though she was sharing a particularly intimate secret, “I can see visions. Glimpses of the past, the present… even the future.”

Penelope remained so still that for one horrible moment, Siyeon wondered if her plan had failed. If the girl had seen through her bullshit and was going to call her bluff. Yet she needn’t have worried.

“Are you a prophet?” Penelope breathed.

Siyeon faltered for a fraction of a moment before collecting herself. “Prophet… I suppose that’s a fitting title.”

Penelope’s eyes were shining now, and her lips broke into a wide grin. “I knew it! You’re seeing visions of me, aren’t you? That must mean that the Almighty or whoever is on my side!”

Siyeon’s jaw slackened. It was good that Penelope seemed to believe her, but… In the first place, wasn’t it blasphemous to refer to the god of this world as “the Almighty or whoever”? Then again, the game didn’t delve into this world’s religion extensively, so maybe it didn’t matter?

“I guess it’s possible to interpret things that way, but –”

“Ah, if only the Sacred Temple could see me now. Say, since I’m blessed by the Almighty, do you think I can go claim the title of Saintess?”

“Aren’t you’re getting a little carried away –”

Penelope giggled, clapping her hands together. “Even my father and brothers will have to watch their mouths around me!”

“Penelope!” Siyeon was so frustrated that she ended up yelling her name.

Crap, did I make her mad?

Penelope pressed one finger against her lips. “The only people permitted to call me by name are my father and brothers, but they only ever use it when they want to scold me. I believe you just committed a very grave sin.”

Shit, she must be furious!

Siyeon bowed her head, arranging her expression into one of remorse. “Forgive me, I –”

“However, that can be easily rectified!” Penelope snapped her fingers, winking at her. “If we’re friends, then of course you can call me by name.”

“… What?” Siyeon couldn’t make head nor tail of this bizarre conversation. No, rather than a conversation, wasn’t it more accurate to describe it as Penelope spouting whatever she wanted, however she wanted, leaving Siyeon scrambling to keep up with the topic that kept changing every five seconds?

Penelope beamed at her, and suddenly grabbed her hand, pumping it up and down enthusiastically. “So let’s be friends from now on!”

As Siyeon stared dumbly at the handshake that Penelope was giving her, she felt the sudden onslaught of a pounding headache. Forget about the male targets or the game system trying to do her in – Penelope alone was more than enough. She had been counting on Penelope to send her back to Korea, yet it seemed like she might be sent to the afterlife instead.

Chapter Text

Once Penelope had calmed down after her initial excitement of making her first (self-proclaimed) friend, she sat down opposite to Siyeon and let the girl continue her tale.

According to her, she was an orphan who grew up on the streets, without her parents, and only survived because of her visions.

“Look at me,” Siyeon said, gesturing toward herself. “Do you think most street urchins would be as well off as me?”

Indeed, her spotless appearance and fair, smooth skin suggested a decent upbringing, although her fashion sense was abysmal. Penelope nodded, hanging onto her every word.

“And then recently, I began having dreams. Dreams of you,” Siyeon shared in a grave tone.

Penelope straightened, ears pricked up.

“Though perhaps it would be more accurate to call them nightmares.” Siyeon gave a little shudder.

Penelope gulped. “W-why? Will something bad happen to me?”

Siyeon’s eyes seemed to gleam in the dingy room. “Worse. Far, far worse than you could possibly imagine.” She paused again. Penelope wanted to shake her by the shoulders and force the truth out of her lips. “You see, most of my visions depict gruesome scenes of your death.”

Siyeon’s candid declaration was a veritable punch to Penelope’s gut, knocking the wind out of her. Breathing became difficult; a hollow ringing echoed in her ears.

“… lope? Penelope?”

“Um, yes? Yes,” she said, coming back to her senses. “Er, I think I misheard you saying that I was going to die.”

“No, you heard correctly.”

Penelope chuckled nervously. “I did?”

Siyeon nodded.

The smile dropped from Penelope’s face. Her hands reached up, clutching her hair in despair. “Oh, oh, oh! I thought the Almighty sent me a guardian angel, not the grim reaper!” She gripped her chest tightly with one hand, and pressed the back of her other hand on her forehead. “Woe is me, woe is me, I say!”

Siyeon’s brow inched higher.

Then Penelope clasped her hands together. “How was it? My rendition of Belefarlow’s magnum opus – ‘The Lady’s Secret Admirer Visits Her Every Night’!”

Siyeon stared at her flatly for a long moment, then sighed. “I don’t think I want to know…” She fixed Penelope with a glare. “I am being serious right now, Penelope.”

“But you don't know that I’ll die for certain,” Penelope emphasized. She refused to believe it. She had seen death once before, lay beside it and prayed for her own, but those were days long past and thoughts long gone. Now, she was determined to live. “Your visions are not set in stone, are they?”

“No,” Siyeon affirmed, and Penelope released a breath she didn’t realize she was holding. “That’s why I’m here. I’ll help you change the future that I see.”

There was another question bugging Penelope. In fact, it had been gnawing at her ever since she received the first letter. “Why? Why are you helping me?”

Siyeon’s lips quirked up. “Didn’t you say it yourself that the Almighty has blessed you?”

“Oh, that was mostly me jesting,” Penelope said. She patted Siyeon’s arm. “You must not understand humor too well. Don’t worry, you’ll get the hang of it.”

For some strange reason, Siyeon only let out a long sigh again.

“I’m helping you because it helps me. I see you in my dreams all the time, and they lessened only when I began reaching out to you. I just want to get you out of my mind.”

Penelope pursed her lips. “You know, that almost sounded like a confession.”

“Wonderful,” Siyeon said dully. “Listen, we don’t have much time. You have to go back to the estate soon, right?”

“If I don’t wish to get caught, then yes.”

“I’ll give you a rundown of what you need to know.” Siyeon hesitated. “In my visions,” she said slowly, “I see the same five men killing you over and over. To survive, you will have to get into their good graces.”

At Penelope’s blank look, Siyeon explained, “Essentially you have to be on decently good terms with them to reduce the likelihood of them murdering you.”

Penelope frowned. “But who would hate me enough to kill me? I don’t have any enemies.”

Were the nobles of high society that she had offended so angry that they would dispatch assassins after her? She soon realized that her assumption was wrong. Wholly wrong.

“The five men I mentioned earlier are” – here Siyeon visibly grimaced – “your two brothers, a marquis, a slave and the crown prince.” She said everything in a rush, so much so that Penelope doubted her ears.

“This time I must have really misheard you,” Penelope said, shaking her head.

“No, there is nothing wrong with your hearing.”

Penelope’s eyes narrowed into slits. “Surely,” she said through gritted teeth, “you can’t be telling me that those people you just mentioned are secretly plotting my death, including a bunch of strangers and my own brothers!”

An image of Reynold’s eyes simmering with pure loathing flashed across her mind. She banished it. Ridiculous. They might not get along well, but he wouldn’t kill her. Probably.

“It’s up to you if you want to believe me. Even if I am lying, where’s the harm in improving your relationships with them? On the other hand, if I am telling the truth…” Siyeon spread her arms and shrugged. “Then it’ll be too late for your regrets.”

Penelope’s lips thinned. She hated it when people used logic against her, because it meant they were right and she was wrong. So many times had her voice been stifled and suppressed in her household that no matter how loud she screamed, only the silence of the void answered back.

“Fine. I’ll humor you.” For now.

“Wise choice. When shall we arrange our next meeting? I have crucial information to share with you about the crown prince’s homecoming banquet, but that may take a while.”

Penelope slanted her head. “What are you talking about? You’re coming back with me.”

For the first time, Siyeon seemed genuinely flustered. Her lips moved, but no sound came out.

“It might take a while, but I think I can pull it off,” Penelope said, more to herself than Siyeon.

“You don’t have to –” Siyeon began, but Penelope cut her off with a wave of her hand.

“Nonsense. It doesn’t make sense for us to keep meeting like criminals when you’re a prophet. Give me a few days. I’ll contact you before the banquet, so look forward to my success.”

Siyeon looked like she was going to argue further, but a firm knock on the door drew their attention.

“My lady, it is nearly midnight. The carriage driver is about to leave without you.”

“Tell them I’m coming!” Penelope hollered, and stood. “When we meet again, you and I need to have a talk about your sense of fashion. Or lack thereof.”

As she dashed out of the room, the last thing she saw was Siyeon’s bewildered expression.

Inside the carriage, Penelope replayed the conversation with Siyeon in her mind. She didn’t get the feeling that the girl was lying, but she might have purposely left out bits of the whole picture.

Now that she thought of it, the only things Siyeon did that legitimize her claim of being a prophet were predicting her encounter with Bianca and the dramatic effect of addressing the duke as her father. Both were impressive, though the sudden escalation to predicting her death was hard to believe.

And then there was also the revelation of the five men that were her would-be murderers. It was so ludicrous that Penelope didn’t know whether to laugh or cry – or both.

The carriage rolled to a stop outside the manor, and she made her way to the doggy hole. She found it after several tries and wriggled inside, emerging on the other side.

“Phew.”

Penelope straightened, and shrieked.

“Having fun?” Reynold asked, arms crossed.

“What are you doing here?” she blurted out.

He scowled. “I live here. Besides, shouldn’t I be asking you this question?”

She sniffed. “Mind your own business. I went out for… a stroll.”

He gave her a once-over. “At this time? With that get-up?”

She obstinately raised her chin. “Yes.”

“… Ha. Keep your secrets if you want, but I’ll find them out,” he warned, before stalking away.

Penelope glared at his retreating figure. Why were brothers always so meddlesome?

***

Siyeon didn’t get a single wink of sleep after her first meeting with Penelope. In a way, it had both gone well and badly.

Penelope easily bought into her story of being a prophet, so that was one hurdle cleared. Unfortunately, another one had appeared in her path. Siyeon originally had no intention of entering the duchy. She just wanted to return to Korea as soon as possible, and with minimal contact with the characters from the game because she didn’t know how much deviation her presence would cause in this world.

What if the knowledge that she held was no longer accurate? It was inevitable as change begets change, and her existence here was a huge anomaly in itself.

She didn’t explain the game world to Penelope – she couldn’t. If someone appeared before her one day and told her she was a fictional character, she would direct them to the nearest mental institution. Considering the time of this world, it wouldn’t be strange if she was thrown inside an asylum for her preposterous claim until she really went mad.

Still, this new development might prove beneficial to her. If (and that was a big if) Penelope could somehow carve a place for Siyeon in the duchy, then she would be able to monitor and influence the girl’s movements more closely.

As the days flew by and the date of the crown prince’s homecoming banquet drew nearer, Siyeon was starting to get anxious. Around this time would be when Count Wanshette’s business failed, bringing about the so-called “Age of Deaths”. The upcoming event was no exception – in one bad ending, Reynold poisoned Penelope and miscalculated the dosage, leading to an agonizing death.

What would happen if Penelope, the protagonist of this world, were to die? Would Siyeon be stuck here forever? Or would she be transported back to Korea? It was a risk she wasn’t willing to take, not yet, at least. And what of her conscience? Was she selfish enough to put Penelope’s life on the line all for a chance of going back home?

She didn’t want to know the answer to that question.

Regardless, she didn’t want to overwhelm Penelope with too much information on their first meeting, so she refrained from going into specific details about the male targets whom she needed to woo. She had a feeling Penelope would not take that well.

Then again, the girl’s mood was so capricious that Siyeon’s prediction could be way off the mark.

Penelope’s parting jibe at Siyeon’s sense of fashion was what currently propelled her to comb through the streets, because she admitted that the dresses she had bought were subpar. The key to commanding respect lay in how much effort went into dolling oneself up; the one facet of society that never changed was the emphasis on maintaining an impeccable appearance.

She turned a corner, lost in thought, and nearly bumped into someone.

“Sorry –” She glanced up and froze.

Jet-black hair, swept across his forehead. Piercing blue eyes, stern and narrowed. Chiseled cheekbones carved into a harsh precision. An austere aura that rolled off him in waves. Yet rather than all those, what stood out the most was the translucent bubble above his head that displayed -3%.

Siyeon felt time crawling to a stop. The world seemed to fade out as she was helplessly pulled into a tunnel, spiraling, falling because –

Why is Derrick Eckhart here?

“Seeing how surprised you are, you must recognize me.” His voice was smooth, and deeper than she imagined.

It was too late to deny it, not when she had been caught gaping at him so blatantly. And she wasn’t shameless enough to put an act that it was his good looks that caught her off guard.

“… Yes, my lord,” she said, hands tightening on her skirt.

“Come with me.”

Siyeon couldn’t refuse the order. The disparity in their status was simply too large. So she forced herself to put one foot forward, and then the other, until she was trailing after him with an expression carefully wiped clean of her internal turmoil. His two guards lagged behind them, close enough to protect him, but far away that they couldn’t eavesdrop on them.

Derrick stopped walking, and Siyeon nearly groaned when she saw where they were.

You gotta be fucking kidding me, she thought as the cheerful signage read WONDERLAND DELIGHTS. Was there only one dessert shop in the entire duchy? All of this was so trippy that she was starting to think she might really be in Wonderland.

Though the location made sense as it was a popular meeting place for nobles and commoners alike, which was why Winter set it up as one of the bases for his information guild. There was no better way to gather information than through the grapevine, positively dripping with gossip.

“Welcome.” The same server who had attended Siyeon last time was there to greet them, and his eyes darted to Siyeon inquisitively. She shook her head slightly.

“A table for two,” Derrick said. His guards were waiting for them outside.

The server bowed. “Of course. Please follow me.”

They were led to a secluded corner, where Derrick sat across from Siyeon, crossing his legs. He didn’t say anything, not even when their food – all of them decided by him before her butt had touched her seat – was served. Well, two could play this game. She stared back at him with cool indifference. It was a petty victory for her when he broke the silence first.

“Take this and leave the duchy.” He placed down a rectangular sheet of paper.

Siyeon had to count the staggering figure written on the cheque twice before she comprehended it. Was this a test?

“… I’m not sure what you’re getting at, my lord.”

“I’m telling you to cut off ties with Penelope.”

She twitched. Did Derrick know? How much did he know?

“Penelope is naive. She lives with her head in the clouds, and has been conned countless times, all the while without realizing a single thing. Those were trivial losses compared to the joy she gained, so I chose to indulge her.” Derrick’s gaze cut to her. “However, with you… I cannot gauge your intentions. The investigation I did on you” – so it was Derrick after all – “revealed nothing, and I can only presume that you are a particularly crafty swindler.”

He tapped one finger on the cheque. “Penelope seems to favor you, so I will grant you leniency just this once. Take the money and leave. Don’t ever return.”

“And if I refuse?” Siyeon asked. She knew she was toeing a dangerous line here, especially with his next chilling words.

“There are many ways to make a person disappear. Some more permanent than others.”

This crazy psycho! Was he always like this in the game? Why does he care so much about what Penelope does anyway? Shit… What if Penelope’s already dead?

“By any chance,” Siyeon said before she could chicken out, “did you do something to Pe – Lady Penelope?”

Derrick paused in the middle of sipping his tea. “Do something?” he quoted, sounding vaguely offended at the negative connotation. “I had her put under probation for one month, barring the crown prince’s imminent homecoming banquet. She is not to leave the house without my permission.”

Siyeon recalled how confident Penelope had been when she said to leave everything to her. Yeah, sure, if they wanted their plan to go up in flames! Siyeon was a fool to have trusted her. This couldn’t have been the success Penelope envisioned.

“You also need not bother sending letters anymore. They will be intercepted and discarded.” Finishing his tea, Derrick stood. “I hope our paths won’t cross again.”

“The sentiment is mutual, my lord.” But unfortunately impossible.

He stiffened at the barb, before he left the patisserie with a sour expression. The moment he was gone, Siyeon’s calm facade cracked. She massaged her temples, feeling defeated.

Now what?

Chapter Text

Tapping a foot agitatedly against the floor, Penelope was both fed up and cranky, which was usually a dangerous recipe for one of her usual shenanigans. Days of being cooped up in her room had a way of doing that to her, and the only respite from the utter boredom of being imprisoned in her own room was the occasional flurry of activities in preparation for the Eckharts’ upcoming trip to the capital.

Somehow or rather, Derrick had gotten wind of her little escapade on the night she went to see Siyeon, though to what extent, Penelope didn’t know. She was inclined to believe that Reynold had ratted her out, that traitorous bastard, not that he even had a shred of loyalty toward her to begin with.

Regardless, Derrick had her put on probation, again, except this time she was confined to her room and the moment she tried to leave it, a maid would swoop in and say that she would need to “seek the young lord’s permission to proceed”. When Penelope peered out of her window, she occasionally spotted a few knights patrolling the grounds, thwarting any attempts to slip out through that avenue.

It was maddening, and above all, made Penelope feel like a criminal. What kind of brother would do that to his own sister?

Oh right, mine, she thought sarcastically.

Penelope hadn’t taken her probation kindly. No, she had screamed and shouted at Derrick, and if her memory served her right, threatened to shave off his hair in his sleep if he so much as laid a finger on Siyeon. It wasn’t an empty threat either, because Reynold had been the first to be on its receiving end.

If only she had Emily to scout the vicinity for her. Emily had been deployed elsewhere in the manor, despite being Penelope’s personal maid, and the only reason Penelope could think of was the part Emily played in covering for her when she went to meet Siyeon. Had Derrick somehow ferreted that out and was purposely separating the two? The range of his information network was borderline terrifying.

Clacking footsteps approached her door, and Penelope straightened as someone knocked twice.

“My lady.” The voice belonged to that of an unfamiliar maid.

Interest piqued, Penelope darted to the door and opened it.

The maid glanced around surreptitiously before whispering, “You have a guest outside the manor’s gates. She introduced herself only by her initials – C.S.Y.”

Penelope’s eyes widened. Siyeon!

As one of the maids that Penelope was fairly certain Derrick had planted rounded the corner and eyed them suspiciously, the maid talking to Penelope hastily bobbed her head and walked away.

Penelope withdrew inside her room and closed the door, mind working rapidly. Why did Siyeon come? Did she find out that Penelope was being held hostage in her own home? Penelope could not waste this opportunity, and Siyeon had been adamant that there was something important she needed to relay to her before the crown prince’s homecoming ceremony.

Think, Penelope, think! What can I do…

Penelope racked her brain, but her go-to solution was usually throwing a tantrum or two, which would be most unhelpful now –

No, wait.

Her lips curled up.

Perhaps whipping out that skill was the best course of action she could take right now.

Fluffing up her hair and rolling back her shoulders, she stalked forward and threw open the door. Immediately, a maid pounced on her, spouting something about requiring Derrick’s permission. Penelope spared her a cold glance.

“Move.”

Something in her tone caused the maid to falter. Still, she squared her shoulders. “You cannot leave without the young lord’s –”

“I cannot leave?” Penelope echoed, cocking a brow. “Were those my brother’s instructions? Well, to hell with them.”

She strode forward, each forceful step undeterred by the maid’s desperate pleas, dead set on marching all the way to the front gates. Technically, no one in this house, short of her father or brothers, could stop her.

“What is all this commotio – my lady.”

Now that was an unwelcome voice.

Penelope stood stiffly as Pennel stopped a few feet away from her and greeted her. The severe lines on his face seemed more prominent than ever, and his mustache was quivering agitatedly. As always, Penelope bottled up the squeamish feeling in her at the sight of the man she hated so thoroughly.

“I believe that Lord Derrick has forbidden you from leaving your room,” he began, but Penelope found her voice and cut him off arrogantly.

“This is between my eldest brother and me. Kindly stay out of it, Head Butler,” she said, hiding the trembling in her hands by squeezing her skirt tightly.

His russet brown eyes narrowed. Penelope swept past him.

Her goal was right in front of her now. Just another two right turns, and she would reach the vestibule. Beyond that, Siyeon awaited. She picked up her pace, turned the corner and almost collided with the imposing figure belonging to that of her eldest brother.

Penelope paled.

Derrick’s expression was impassive, but a storm was brewing in his blue eyes. “So you’ve taken to blatantly ignoring my orders now.”

She screwed up the remnants of her courage. “It’s abhorrent, no, vile! The way you keep me locked up in my room! I haven’t done anything to deserve such a treatment –”

“Haven’t you?” he cut in. His voice was soft, but it struck harder than her yelling. “Reynold told me” – at that moment she was filled with an overwhelming desire to throttle her other brother – “that he caught you on your way back from your little night stunt.”

She stuck to the same story she told Reynold. “I was out for a stroll.”

“… Winslowe Village is a little far for that, don’t you think?”

She recalled the crunching noise she had chalked up to her imagination. “You had someone tail me?”

He neither confirmed nor denied it. Instead, he continued as though she had not spoken, “Who was the woman you met?”

“Why don’t you tell me?” Penelope retorted, still reeling from the stinging truth of her brother having someone follow her. “I bet you have already done an investigation on her!”

His silence was telling enough.

She threw her hands in the air. “I cannot believe you, Brother! How dare you!”

“Penelope, listen –”

“No, you listen to me. I am not a toy or a puppet whose freedom you can strip away so easily, Brother. Stop treating me like – like a child!”

“Then stop acting like one!” he bellowed.

Both siblings glared at each other, the air fraught with tension.

“What is going on?”

Penelope’s head snapped to the duke, who looked decidedly displeased at the racket they were making.

“Father,” Derrick said, lowering his head in chagrin. “Apologies for the noise. Penelope was kicking up a fuss over nothing, as usual.” Penelope stared at him in disbelief. “You need not pay us any heed. Are you going somewhere?”

“Ah, I’m meeting Count Wanshette for a luncheon. He was quite insistent on conferring with me about a private matter. I wonder if it has anything to do with his business.” He shifted his stance to face Penelope. “And you, Penelope…” He simply sighed. “Just when will you finally become more mature?”

Penelope had had enough. “Eldest Brother assigned someone to follow me.”

Derrick’s eyes flashed. “Penelope.”

She admitted it – it was low of her. Call it her stubborn pride, but she usually did not drag their father into their sibling squabbles. Well, she was rescinding that courtesy starting from right now, since Derrick certainly didn’t grant her any when he had someone shadow her movements.

The duke went rigid. Especially when Penelope said conversationally, “He confined me to my room for three days, as though I were a rabid animal that could not be controlled. What do you make of that… Father?”

The duke channeled his frown onto his son. Derrick’s jaw tightened. And Penelope bit her lip, concealing her smile.

Score one for her.

***

Getting to the Eckhart estate was the easy part. All Siyeon had to do was rent a rundown carriage and pay them an exorbitant fee for making the trip here. Standing under the scorching sun, waiting on pins and needles for the maid that she had bribed to hold up her end of their bargain, though? That was the hard part.

Siyeon had waited at the servants’ entrance for close to an hour before a lone maid exited, on an errand or another. All it took was one flash of a gold coin for the maid to be on board with her scheme. For all Siyeon knew, the maid could have pocketed her money and was taking her for a ride.

After making the deal, Siyeon had double backed to the front of the manor, seeking refuge in the shade of a large tree. She was merely hazarding a guess that it would be easier for Penelope to leave the manor boldly through the front entrance than the servant’s entrance. The guards watched her with hawk eyes, but they couldn’t chase her away, for she wasn’t breaking any laws.

Yet.

Now, as she was led into the manor by a footman, she barely had the mental capacity to behold the luxurious interior. Everywhere sparkled, from the pristine floors that reflected her own stony face to the gleaming white columns and spotless windows. Velvety purple with gold accents were the primary color theme, giving off an air of solemn regality.

She stepped into the room she was guided toward and inhaled sharply. It was a lavish drawing room, though that was not what perturbed her. No, it was the room’s occupants.

Derrick was seated on a couch with arms folded, his back to Siyeon. Beside him was a man whose side profile looked like an older version of him. Siyeon assumed he was Duke Eckhart. And across from them, facing Siyeon, was Penelope, who brightened and wiggled her fingers in a little wave.

Both Derrick and the duke turned, identical dour expressions on their faces. Siyeon’s gaze flicked over the -3% hovering above Derrick’s head.

She gripped her skirt and lightly curtsied. “Greetings, Your Grace, my lord and my lady.”

Penelope darted over to her side. “Siyeon! Come over here.” She pulled her over to the couch, until she was standing in front of Derrick and the duke.

“Father, Brother, this is the prophet I was telling you about.”

Siyeon nearly wrenched her arm away from Penelope. While Penelope might have fallen for her cover story, she doubted Derrick or Duke Eckhart would. She masked her alarm with a modest smile and said, “My name is Cha Siyeon. It is an honor to be in your presence.”

The duke sipped his tea, his watchful gaze never once leaving Siyeon. “Hmm… According to my daughter, you are a prophet, yes?” At Siyeon’s nod, he continued, “I’m rather skeptical of your bold claim. The last recognized prophet, Shenda of Algothe, left behind only a cryptic prophecy before her demise, and even then I must confess I have always viewed her divinations as nothing more than parlor tricks – a pretty farce created by the Sacred Temple for their deplorable machinations.”

Siyeon fought to control her expression. What was with this sudden onset of lore? The game never explained anything like this! If she had known, she would not have so casually agreed to Penelope’s guesswork of her being a prophet!

The duke’s eyes were hard on her. “Although my daughter has assured me otherwise, I still must ask: are you affiliated with the Temple in any manner?”

I don’t even know this Temple you’re speaking of!

She looked him in the eye and said emphatically, “I am not.”

His eyes continued to probe into hers searchingly, and then his shoulders relaxed. “Excellent. We Eckharts have always been politically neutral, and I would like to maintain our non-partisanship.”

Siyeon vaguely wondered if the Temple was inclined toward the crown prince or second prince’s faction, and then decided it wasn’t important, at least not at the present moment.

Especially when Derrick said disdainfully, “Father, the validity of that woman’s claim is clear as day. Deceiving Penelope is one thing; are you going to let her pull the wool over your eyes as well?”

“Excuse me?” Penelope butted in, bristling. “What do you mean by deceiving me is one thing? I’ll have you know that there’s nothing wrong with my sense of judgment!”

He made an impatient noise. “I merely wished to caution Father against letting in any more riff-raff into our household.”

“Any more riff-raff?” she repeated, something akin to hurt creeping into her voice. “Was that what you thought of me all along?”

He seemed to realize his mistake then. “I… misspoke. That was a tasteless choice of words.”

“But you meant it,” she said accusingly. “It was what you were thinking of!”

Siyeon noted that Derrick didn’t deny it. In fact, he appeared to be struggling for words, which must be a rare sight. Why did Penelope’s wounded feelings affect him that much? It was a little incongruous with his icy-cold image.

Before Siyeon could mull it over, there was a series of rapid knocks on the door.

“Your Grace, it is me,” a resonant voice said. “I have urgent news to impart.”

“Come in, Pennel, but make it quick. I am with a guest right now,” the duke said curtly.

Pennel. Siyeon recognized that as the name of the head butler. He was quite possibly the only servant who could interrupt the duke’s audience and escape unscathed, thanks to his years of loyal service to the duchy.

Pennel entered and bowed. He then asked tersely, “Have you seen this morning’s Eorka Times, my lord?”

The duke frowned. “No, I was up to the elbows in paperwork. Has something major occurred?”

Pennel’s tone was grave when he divulged, “Count Wanshette’s cargo-laden vessel was caught in a particularly vicious storm yesterday, in the middle of the Vluewn Sea.”

Duke Eckhart sat bolt upright. “And?”

“There are speculations that it has sunk… along with countless commodities meant for trading with Nelshan. These included exotic spices, rare textiles and expensive dyes.”

Derrick raked one hand through his hair, eyes casting about frantically. “You said those were just speculations, right? Father, not all hope is lost just yet. The ship could have… it could have survived the storm. Of course, the condition of the goods on board is another matter, but we might be able to recover our losses if we… Yes, there is still that…”

Duke Eckhart shook off his stupor. He reached over and patted his son’s arm. “Derrick, don’t worry.”

“How can I not worry when something like this has happened?”

“Because I didn’t invest in Count Wanshette’s business.”

Derrick’s eyes widened. “You didn’t… What?”

Penelope’s laughter drew all their attention. “Brother, the expression on your face right now is priceless!”

“Penelope, be serious for once!”

His rebuke fell on deaf ears as she linked her arm with Siyeon’s and asked animatedly, “Father, do you remember the request I asked of you?”

“Request?” Derrick demanded.

“I – Yes. You begged me not to invest in the count’s proposal,” the duke said, his gaze clouding over, likely recalling back to that time.

Penelope beamed at them. “Well, it’s all because Siyeon here advised me to do so in her letter!”

Three pairs of eyes darted to Siyeon, filled with equal parts disbelief and shock.

Since Penelope had already set the stage for her, she would be stupid not to take it. So Siyeon simply smiled enigmatically and slapped on her most sagacious expression.

“Now are you satisfied?”

Chapter Text

In the resulting silence, you could hear a pin drop.

Pennel was the first to recover. Unsurprisingly, since he wouldn’t have survived in this household all these years without some quick wits.

“Then, I will take my leave, my lord,” he wisely said, bowing.

Derrick was shaking his head. “Impossible…” he muttered, then an idea seemed to strike him. “She must have been intending to sabotage us! Everyone thought that the count’s business would take off, so she was trying to hinder us.”

“Except his seemingly infallible business has failed and we have emerged unharmed,” Penelope pointed out.

“A coincidence. One that I’m sure she” – he nodded in Siyeon’s direction – “is secretly lamenting over. All that prophet hogwash is her trying to turn things in her favor.”

“Now you’re just making up stories!”

“And what is your verdict, Your Grace?” Siyeon asked, aiming her question at the duke. Whether Derrick believed her or not wasn’t important. It was the duke that she had to convince. “Lord Derrick seems to have made up his mind about me, regretful as it may be. I would like to hear your thoughts.”

The duke let out a “hmm”. Both Penelope and Derrick were firing intense looks at him, though it was the former that he studied with a pensive expression.

“Fine.”

Penelope squealed.

Derrick’s countenance darkened. “Father!”

“I haven’t finished yet.” The duke’s gaze slid to Siyeon. “I will let you enter the duchy on one condition, which is that you devote your prophetic ability to us, and never let the Temple nor the imperial family find out about it.”

Siyeon dipped her head, saying solemnly, “My allegiance henceforth belongs to you, Your Grace.”

She had never been so grateful for the minor in history that she was forced to take due to her archaeological pursuit, and especially that one course on society in early modern Europe. Who knew that sitting through hours of boring lectures on social etiquette during this era would one day come in handy? She resolved to stop falling asleep during her professor’s talks when she finally returned to Korea.

Her rueful thoughts were interrupted by the next bombshell that the duke dropped. “Publicly, you will be Penelope’s lady-in-waiting.”

“Father, we will be made the laughingstock of the empire. That wench is clearly of low origins!” Derrick protested, sounding utterly appalled at the suggestion.

And Siyeon could understand his objection. Based on her knowledge, a lady-in-waiting was usually a female from a lower nobility house who would closely serve a high-ranking aristocratic lady, such as the daughter of the emperor or a duke. They were treated with higher regard than normal maids because of their noble birth, and were more like a companion.

Having someone like her become Penelope’s lady-in-waiting was a disgrace to the Eckhart name.

The duke stroked his chin. “We could possibly sponsor her. Introduce her as a rare, budding talent from a distant kingdom. Surround her with rumors like being a musical prodigy or a mathematical genius to keep up an air of mystery. It’ll divert attention away from her commoner roots.”

Derrick made a scornful sound. “And who is going to believe that? You.” He channeled his attention onto Siyeon. “What instruments can you play? Do you even know basic arithmetics?”

Siyeon stared back at him calmly. “Rather than music or mathematics, my forte lies in the field of archaeology.”

“Archaeology?” the duke said, surprised.

Penelope clasped her hands together. “Siyeon, you dabble in archaeology? I always imagined it as digging through dead people’s corpses, which honestly sounds awfully boring but to each their own.”

Siyeon almost winced at her words. What she was describing sounded more like a grave robber to her!

Derrick pressed two fingers against his temple. “Father, I must implore you to reconsider.”

Duke Eckhart glared at his son. “Enough of your opposition. You of all people should know better than to try changing my mind when it’s already made up.”

And thus the matter was settled like that.

Siyeon could still detect rage simmering beneath the surface of Derrick’s face like a particularly vicious undercurrent, but his voice had regained its usual frosty indifference when he spoke again.

“If that’s the case, I suggest we make use of the crown prince’s upcoming banquet to introduce her to the rest of society. It’s prominent enough to unveil a new addition to our household, and any unsavory gossip will be diluted by the crown prince’s appearance.”

“It’s a sound plan,” the duke agreed, “except we’ll be pressed for time to finish her preparations.”

“You don’t have to worry about that,” Penelope interjected. “Just leave her attire and appearance to me! I have the perfect outfit for – why are you all giving me that look?”

Indeed, everyone else present was currently eyeing her with an expression that could only be described as skepticism stemming from first-hand experience of what happened when they left things up to her.

“Alright,” the duke said unconvincingly. “You’ll be in charge of Siyeon’s official presentation.”

Siyeon sent the duke a look that bordered on desperation. Penelope and “official” didn’t get along together. He averted his gaze with a quiet cough.

“Yay! Siyeon, aren’t you relieved? You’re in my very capable hands!” Penelope said happily, hugging her arm.

“Right… capable…” Siyeon replied faintly. There were many words she would use to describe Penelope Eckhart, but capable certainly wasn’t one that came to mind. Capable implied a level of competency in a specific field, and Siyeon wasn’t sure what she excelled at besides spending money like water or her tendency to induce headaches in those among her presence.

“Ah, right, before I forget!” Penelope turned to Derrick and said, “Brother, please return Emily to me. What did you do to her anyway?”

“You’re making me out to be a tyrant,” Derrick grumbled. That’s not far from the truth. Siyeon thought of how he regularly abused his power and status, with Penelope herself being a prime example of it. “I only reallocated her to another part of the manor.”

As the conversation wrapped up, the duke dismissed Penelope and Siyeon, saying that he had something else to discuss with Derrick regarding Count Wanshette. Siyeon suspected that the count’s request to have a luncheon with the duke might have been a poorly disguised attempt at soliciting money, and judging from Derrick’s disgruntled expression, he was likely thinking along the same vein.

Siyeon and Penelope exited the room, the latter chattering excitedly about dolling her up and “getting rid of that hideous dress shaped like the avocado that had the misfortune of getting squished by Reynold’s backside”.

Siyeon glanced down at her dress. It did look like a misshapen avocado, she admitted. She changed the topic by asking, “Who is Emily?” If she was going to be in this house starting from now, she might as well acquaint herself with all the important players.

“She’s my personal maid,” Penelope explained. She paused. “I guess I can tell you this?”

“Tell me what?”

“She used to stab my arm with a needle, but in light of recent events, it’s all water under the bridge now. Mostly.”

Siyeon stared at her, aghast. What was with this crazy household and Penelope’s blase attitude?

“You should make an example out of her,” she advised, “to nip the problem in the bud and deter other servants from following suit.”

“What would be the point?” Penelope’s tone was all too cheerful considering the dismal topic. “It’s not like I have any real authority around here. No matter how I punish her, the one who will get hurt in the end is still me.”

Siyeon’s footsteps slowed as she appraised Penelope in a new light. If the girl was so self-aware, then why did she still do all those things that she knew – she had to know – would land her in trouble? She was virtually cutting her nose to spite her face, a notion Siyeon couldn’t wrap her pragmatic mind around.

“We’re here!” Penelope announced, opening the door to her bedroom with a flourish.

Siyeon had to shield her eyes from all the bling. Penelope’s room might as well have been carved inside a jewelry box. A massive vanity table took up one length of the wall, coated in dark maroon, and mother-of-pearl beads ran along the edge of the spotless mirror frame. Next to it was an elaborate armoire with rows of engraved drawers. Its door was half-open, offering a glimpse of vivid gowns stuffed inside. There was even a chandelier dangling on the creamy white ceiling, standing as proud and dazzling as the mistress of the room.

Said mistress was now running to the armoire, throwing the doors fully open and rummaging about madly.

“Let’s see… Ooh, I was going to give you this dress, but I think this one may fit you even better… No, no, it has to be this one… or maybe that one?”

Siyeon closed the bedroom door and leaned on it for support. Penelope tsk-tsked in disapproval and barked, “We have no time to waste! Try these on!”

Siyeon grunted as a bundle of dresses was shoved into her arms, nearly getting buried by swathes of fabric. She suddenly felt immense self-pity welling up. This was going to be a long day.

***

As Penelope directed Siyeon to twirl in the muted lavender gown, she couldn’t stop the smile tugging at her lips. She had always fantasized about inviting a friend over and playing dress-up, but all her daydreaming could never compare to the actual thing.

In order to get her father to allow an audience with Siyeon, Penelope had to cash in her hard-won favor from the boutique incident, but she had no regrets. None at all, as she watched Siyeon begrudgingly cave in to her demands and do the poses she instructed.

“Must I really stand like this?” Siyeon asked through gritted teeth. “Like this” referred to one delicate heel crossed behind the other, back flushed against the wall and one hand draped across her nape.

“Of course. How else will I see the fitting? As expected, it’s too loose in this area, and that part ought to be trimmed a little… Tighten just a bit more here… Although I don’t really think the cutting or color suits you that well…” Penelope poked and prodded at Siyeon as she gave her evaluation.

“Can’t we take a break? If I have to wear one more dress, I think I’ll explode,” Siyeon said, her body trembling from the strain of having to hold the unnatural posture.

“Don’t be absurd, how can a human body combust like that?” Penelope said plainly. “Fine, let’s resume later.”

Siyeon’s body slumped in relief.

“Anyway, I have some questions I want to ask you.” Penelope strolled to her bed and sat down, patting the space next to her. Siyeon obeyed the silent command, perching on the edge of her mattress.

“I spent some time thinking over our conversation from last time. I still can’t believe that my brot – those people you mentioned would want to kill me.” Penelope struggled with molding her incoherent thoughts into a proper question. “Why? Why would they do that to me?”

She didn’t care for the specifics – where, when or even how – but she needed to know the reason.

Siyeon didn’t reply for a long moment. When she did, her words were stilted, sometimes riddled with long pauses. “My visions were never that in-depth. Sometimes, with your brothers, it was because of your… abrasive attitude. Of course, it does not justify their actions, but they were injustices committed in the heat of the moment.”

“And other times?”

“… Frankly, I do not know, either. The disregard for human life is baffling, more so when it comes unattached with feelings of passion, as is the case for the outsiders I have mentioned. I cannot help but wonder if they are simply monsters who have donned on the skin of men…”

That painted a vivid imagery that sickened Penelope. She forced her vocal cords to work, asking, “Then what makes you think that befriending them will help me? If they’re truly… truly lunatics, nothing I do will dissuade them.”

Siyeon’s expression distorted. She pushed herself off the bed and made her way to the pile of dresses at the side of the room, occupying herself with tidying them. “I… might have left off some crucial details. Rather than befriending, it would be more accurate to call it… romanticizing.”

Penelope stared at her blankly.

“The Almighty’s will does not weave through the mortal realm easily, but when it does it is often profoundly cryptic. I don’t understand it myself either, but you must find love in one of those five men to prevent your tragic demise.”

“Hold up. So you’re saying…” Penelope closed her eyes, her mind fervently trying to reject the absurd conclusion. “You’re saying that to survive, I need to make the same men who are trying to murder me… fall in love with me?”

“I know it sounds ridiculous.”

“It doesn’t sound ridiculous, it is ridiculous!” Penelope tore at her hair. “You’re forgetting that two of those people are my brothers! Just the thought of Reynold – AHH!”

She let out a blood-curdling scream as she spotted the single eyeball peeking through the crack in the door. Her scream startled Reynold so much that he lost his grip on the handle and tumbled in, landing on his side.

“Ow… What’s ridiculous? And what people were you referring to?” He stood up and brushed off his clothes. “I heard you brought in some strange girl –” He stopped short and stared at Siyeon like she was a ghost.

Penelope snapped out of her shock. “Yes, Brother, that’s a girl. Take a good look at her since I’ve heard your boorish self has managed to chase off any other woman with your crude tongue.”

The tips of his ears reddened. “W-who said that? Where did you hear such outrageous nonsense?”

“From you, of course.” She increased the pitch of her voice and imitated Reynold, “Damnation to those wretched cretins, how dare they dump my sorry ass for telling them the truth that their tea tasted horrible and their embroidery resembled chicken feet more than a swan?”

His entire face was flushing now. “I did not speak in that tone, nor did I use those words!”

She shrugged. “You were muttering under your breath, and I didn’t want to be accused of being an eavesdropper now, did I?”

He folded his arms. “Forget about that. You’ve turned down every single noble lady but you accepted this one” – his tone implied exactly what he thought of Siyeon – “as your lady-in-waiting? Is your head alright? Did you hit it somewhere?”

Penelope sniffed, affronted. “Don’t insult my friend.”

“Friend?” he choked out. “Her?”

“Yes, I’m sure it’s a concept that is utterly foreign to you. And since we’re clarifying relationship boundaries… Are you Eldest Brother’s watchdog? Must you report all my movements to him? Why the hell did you tell him about my night outing?” Her voice rose to a shrill scream by the end.

His eyes glazed over with biting coldness. “Penelope Eckhart, you –”

“My, it warms my heart to see how close the two of you are!”

Penelope shot Siyeon a stumped look. The girl wasn’t even looking at her – her gaze was oddly hovering somewhere above Reynold’s head. Penelope followed her line of sight, puzzling over what Siyeon was looking at.

“Close?” Reynold repeated, his anger gradually fizzling out. “Us?”

Siyeon smiled at him. “Certainly! Siblings quarrel all the time. It’s a sign of love.”

Penelope’s eyes widened to saucers. Reynold sputtered, “L-love?”

“I can see that you both care for each other dearly. Penelope always gushes to me about how wonderful of a brother you are.”

Penelope imagined this was what a soldier who had gotten hit in the back of their head with their comrade’s cudgel must feel like. When had she prattled on about such gibberish to Siyeon before?!

Reynold stuck his nose up in the air. “Really now, did she? I mean, I am pretty wonderful. Hmm… I suppose she must be too shy in front of me, though it would be nice if she could say that to my face… Ahem…”

Penelope opened her mouth, intent on letting Reynold know exactly what she wanted to say to his face, but Siyeon’s face abruptly morphed into one tinged with warning. She mouthed, “Play along. Please.”

Penelope huffed, feeling the sting of Siyeon’s betrayal all over again. Siyeon continued, “And now, if you would please take your leave, Lord Reynold? We were in the middle of trying on dresses, and you being here blurs the line of propriety.”

Reynold didn’t seem to be paying attention to her words. “Yeah… yeah…” He still had that irritatingly smug grin on his face, and Penelope was itching to slap it off his face. She couldn't find an appropriate reason to validate her action, though, so it was with sore disappointment that she watched him leave her room.

Siyeon’s shoulders slumped after Reynold left. Penelope snapped her fingers to get her attention.

“Now that you’ve driven away my brother, shall we discuss that conversation I had with you in which I supposedly gushed all over him?”

Siyeon made a pained expression. “Must we?”

“Yes. We must,” Penelope stated firmly. “Seriously, what were you thinking…”

And thus, two hours of hell began for Siyeon’s ears.

Chapter Text

The first ever book Penelope’s etiquette tutor tasked her to read was Secrets of High Society: A Complete Guide for All Ladies. Fat load of help the lofty book was considering she had been an illiterate child who could barely discern one letter of the alphabet from another. However, in the years to come, she painstakingly digested the book, and came to begrudgingly admit that there was a modicum of truth lying between the book’s faded pages.

Now, it was time to hammer the knowledge she had gained into her protege’s head.

“I still think this is going overboard,” Siyeon protested, eyeing the thick tome with no small measure of fear.

“Nonsense. My predecessors did it, I did it, and now it’s your turn.”

“That thing will crush my skull!”

Indeed, Penelope was trying to balance the monstrously heavy book on top of Siyeon’s head, although the deft girl was quick to avoid all her advances. She paused and glanced at the book contemplatively.

“Actually, you might be right.”

Siyeon stared at her suspiciously. “Didn’t you say you used it?”

“Oh, I only said I had to balance a book on my head. I used the thinnest copy of a children’s story that I could find!” Penelope said unabashedly.

“And here you are trying to commit manslaughter…” Siyeon muttered. “Have you forgotten that the banquet is tomorrow? I highly doubt any flaw in my posture can be corrected in a few hours.”

The two girls were in Penelope’s room, having their first proper conversation since Siyeon’s arrival. The past few days had been a whirlwind of activities – altering the dress Penelope had chosen for Siyeon to her figure, choosing matching shoes and accessories, undergoing all sorts of skincare and massage treatments, securing the gift the Eckharts would present to the crown prince for his return, arranging transportation to the capital… and the list just never ended.

Even tomorrow they would have to get up at the crack of dawn. While the banquet would only commence in the late evening, they had to take into account the time needed to get ready and travel to the capital.

“You never know,” Penelope said. “Miracles can happen! Though your posture isn’t too bad. It’s the way you place your feet.”

“My feet?”

Penelope nodded, giving a demonstration. “You look like a duck when you point your feet outward. Rotate them inward as you walk.”

“You’re very… detailed.” It was worded like a question.

“Incongruous, isn’t it? That the ‘Rabid Dog of Eckhart’ is capable of behaving like a well-bred lady.”

Siyeon hesitated before agreeing, “Your etiquette is at odds with your image.”

Penelope’s lips lifted up. “Shall I let you in on a little secret? It wasn’t that I didn’t try. I tried too hard.”

And as Penelope spoke, she harked back on how she had forced herself to master a hundred tea recipes and stained her embroidery with blood drawn by the needle. How she had practiced dancing every day until her feet were bruised and persisted with flower arrangements despite the pain from being scraped by stems.

And did society embrace her earnest efforts to fit in? No, they didn’t. They cast her out all the more for it. Her mistakes were met with their condescension instead of correction, each incident twisting the knife deeper into her heart. She was ridiculed for her origins that she could not change and scorned for molding herself to their expectations.

If she could not be accepted within their standards, then the only choice left was to create a new one.

Her smile grew bitter, and her eyes trembled with years of suppressed pain. “Eventually I realized it was simply better not to try at all.” She shrugged nonchalantly. “And here we are.”

Though she had not given up on all things. Case in point: her family. It was the one thing she could not give up on.

Hence she adamantly refused to cower before her brothers, flying in the face of Siyeon’s harrowing claims (including the one where she might have to woo them). Life is a game of compromise, after all; you win some and you lose some.

“It sounds…” Siyeon’s voice came out rough. She cleared her throat. “I mean, it must have been hard. Being so cruelly judged by everyone.”

“Depends on who you ask, I suppose. People see what they want to see, and spinning me out to be an ill-tempered ingrate reflects more of their distorted worldview than mine.”

Siyeon’s expression was pensive, tinged with an emotion that Penelope could not pinpoint, perhaps bordering between wistfulness and sympathy. Or was it empathy? Yet what, if any, about Penelope’s words could have resonated with her?

Their conversation moved on to the banquet, where their roles reversed and Siyeon became the master while Penelope the student.

“Have you met the crown prince before?” Siyeon asked.

Penelope shook her head, a thoughtful frown on her face. “I’m fairly certain Empress Hestia sent him away to war even before I joined the duchy. She was trying to separate him from his partisans and weaken support for his faction.”

Siyeon hesitated. “The current empress… Is she not his mother?”

Penelope gave a surprised laughter. “Mother? It changes based on the definition. By blood, no, but by law, yes.”

“This is really like a historical makjang…”

“A what?”

“Er, nothing. So you’ll be meeting him for the first time tomorrow?”

Penelope lifted one shoulder. “Technically, but I doubt he’ll pay any attention to me. Unless” – and here her eyes lit up devilishly – “you want me to accuse him of being a lecher and slap his face or –”

“No,” Siyeon said hastily. “There’s no need for that.”

“Oh.” That single word conveyed Penelope’s immense disappointment.

“You should stay far away from him. From my visions and what I’ve heard about him, he seems quite volatile.”

“That’s putting it mildly. But any other version of the truth will be treading the lines of treason, so let’s just leave it at that.”

“Don’t offend him. I mean it, Penelope. He’s dangerous.”

“Dangerous, like swiping the last piece of meat in front of Reynold’s face. Or getting stuck on a deserted island with cannibals. Or accidentally expelling a lung when coughing. Most adages hail from true stories, you know. How does one even achieve that, anyway?”

Siyeon sighed, like Penelope was a whining child who had asked for the moon on a string. But all she wanted was free access to the crown prince’s face so she could vigorously stamp her handprint on his cheek. Which, now that she thought about it, might be a considerably harder wish to fulfill.

“I’ll take the moon, then,” Penelope said graciously.

“… What?”

“Ah, I was just thinking aloud.”

Siyeon seemed to give up on this subject entirely and move on to the next.

“I have foreseen a certain incident that will take place tomorrow,” she said, sliding into what Penelope dubbed as her prophet’s voice. Her words were deeper, slower, infused with conviction. “In an attempt to humiliate you, a lady will purposely trip and spill tea on your dress. I have scried the location to be the imperial banquet hall, next to the inner water fountain.”

Penelope scowled. “Her faux pas will make both of us jokes of society.”

“She is the fiancee of the viscount whose family jewels you kicked. I understand it’s her form of self-destructive payback.”

“I should be the one taking revenge! Anthony Buford wouldn’t stop flirting with me!” Penelope felt the inner villainess in her rousing for the first time in a long while. “Tch, just let her try to soil my dress… I’ll shove her into that damn fountain and see how she likes her dress being sogging wet!”

Siyeon’s eyelid twitched. Her voice took on an admonishing tone as she said, “That is not what you’re going to do.”

“Siyeon,” Penelope begged. “Just one push. I’ll even make it look accidental.”

“Absolutely not. Besides, I’m telling you all this as a precaution. I will remain by your side the whole time, and aim to intercept and redirect fate before it can run its course.”

Penelope wrinkled her nose. “If you defy the Almighty’s will, won’t you receive divine punishment?”

Siyeon didn’t seem particularly bothered by that thought. Then again, she never seemed bothered by anything. Siyeon glanced around the room, her unreadable gaze eventually coming to rest on Penelope. “Divine punishment… I wonder if I’m not already being punished.”

Before Penelope could question Siyeon further, Emily knocked on the door, reminding them that it was already an hour past midnight and they had to get up early the next day. Siyeon went back to her room, and Penelope tucked in for the night, her curiosity swiftly replaced by excitement and nervousness.

Sleep beckoned, and she gave to its lure.

***

A corset was, surprisingly, less uncomfortable than Siyeon had imagined. It was tight, yes, but at least she could breathe. Mostly. She would have rather gone without it, but the maids helping her get ready had given her such a scandalized look that she quickly rescinded her words.

She heard a soft gasp.

“So gorgeous!” Penelope exclaimed, hurrying over. She was resplendent in a dark teal gown, with a rose folded from deep blue silk cinched around the center of her waist.

Siyeon glanced down at her own dress. The top half was inky black, connected to off-shoulder sleeves, and it seamlessly flowed into a pleated damask skirt with blazing gold swirls and curves.

“The dress is very beautiful,” Siyeon agreed. She had never worn anything as elaborate as this before.

“Not the dress, silly. You.”

Siyeon blinked at the compliment. “Thank you. You look stunning as well.”

Penelope flipped her hair. “Naturally. I always look stunning.”

Siyeon couldn’t refute that even if she wanted to. Probably no one could.

The pair walked out of the manor together, Penelope chatting all the while as Siyeon listened quietly, trying to stifle her growling stomach. She hadn’t eaten anything the whole morning, what with the hectic rush of preparations and the maids’ advice that it was customary to abstain from meals before a banquet so that one’s figure would be at its prime state.

Duke Eckhart and his sons were already waiting beside the carriages. Reynold and Penelope immediately started bickering over their tardiness, while Siyeon watched his affection meter warily. The last time the siblings argued, her nick-of-time intervention prevented the score from lowering, and even managed to raise it by three percent, though it still remained firmly negative.

“Let’s get going,” Derrick cut in. “It’s a long journey so the faster we set off, the earlier we’ll get there.”

He held out a hand, escorting Penelope into the carriage.

“Thank you, Brother.”

Siyeon grimaced. She had thought about asking Penelope to address him as “Lord Derrick”, but chucked the suggestion out the window because she couldn't find a believable explanation for it that corroborated with her cover story. Someone without knowledge of the game wouldn’t know that Derrick’s score tended to drop when Penelope referred to him as “Brother”, for whatever reason. They would assume that calling him by his title would upset him, as it made the siblings seem distant, and worse, came across as Penelope disregarding him.

Derrick turned, and visibly grappled with himself over whether to help Siyeon or not. The aristocrat in him won, and he reluctantly offered Siyeon a hand.

“Thank you, my lord,” she murmured demurely, sitting next to Penelope.

He didn’t acknowledge her words. Instead, he clambered into the carriage and took the seat opposite Penelope. A string of curses passed through Siyeon’s mind. They were riding the carriage together?

It was the longest four hours of Siyeon’s life. The only person who seemed happy with this arrangement was Penelope, who frequently tried to engage the both of them in conversation. Derrick gave curt, one-word answers, trying to flatten Siyeon under the weight of his stare.

Through what little awkward, stilted conversation she could have with Penelope in Derrick’s silent but heavy presence, she found out that the carriage’s speed was magically enhanced through the use of what was termed a “macceler”, which was a small device powered by a mana stone and originally developed by quondam engineers.

“They sometimes work with archaeologists to find mana stones,” Penelope said. “You’ll probably like them, but they seem so insufferably pompous to me.”

Siyeon was definitely intrigued. Anything that Penelope hated was likely to be something she enjoyed.

It was dark outside by the time they reached their destination. Shadows danced in gloom over the majestic palace, peeling back its veneer of grandeur and revealing the rotting core. A footman led them through the winding hallways of the palace, and the sound of chatter and artificial laughter drifted to them from beyond a set of double doors.

“Announcing the Duke of Eckhart, his sons Lord Derrick and Lord Reynold, and his daughter Lady Penelope!”

Siyeon received no formal announcement of her own, but she preferred it that way. They waltzed in, and all conversations halted. The cutting gazes of the nobles passed over the Eckharts, and landed overtly on Siyeon, who was walking half a step behind Penelope. Whispers rippled through them.

“Who is that girl…”

“My, another adoption?”

“… wonder where she hails from…”

The moment the Eckharts separated, the eager nobles descended on them like a flock of vultures, probably intending to weasel out information about Siyeon. She noticed that they all gave Penelope a wide berth, and since Siyeon was faithful to her promise and stuck to her side, this meant they also avoided her. She could see some ladies hovering around, debating the merits of approaching Siyeon in Penelope’s presence. Then Penelope sent them a particularly scathing look, and they scattered like ashes.

Ping!

◇ System ◇

Main quest

The Crown Prince’s Homecoming

Banquet

has begun!

It’s best to get the side mission over with, Siyeon thought, and steered Penelope in the direction of the water fountain at the center of the hall. Callisto had not arrived yet, and she sent a silent prayer of gratitude that the hidden event was still mercifully locked.

What were the odds that it would be unlocked before the night was over? Close to none, unless the Almighty of this world was really hell-bent on punishing her.

Penelope, meanwhile, was criticizing the other lady’s dresses. They were either too gaudy, or too frilly, or too outdated… Siyeon nodded, only half-listening as she surveyed their surroundings.

“See, see, now that dress is absolutely repulsive… What a horrendous shade of green, and that bodice! Is she trying to join the circus? Of course, I’d expect nothing less from that slimy viscount’s fiancee, but still…”

Siyeon jerked her gaze to the lady in question, who was slowly making her way over to them.

Gotcha.

Penelope continued finding fault with the other ladies’ dresses, and Siyeon repositioned herself subtly. The lady drew nearer, a cup of tea in her shaking hand, and Siyeon counted the seconds.

One.

Two.

The lady let out an exaggerated “Ah!” as she tilted forward, wrist bent at an intentional angle to dump the tea onto Penelope’s dress. But she hadn’t accounted for Siyeon’s reflexes.

Siyeon grabbed Penelope’s wrist and tugged the girl toward her. Her other arm wrapped around Penelope’s waist and she twirled, expertly weaving them out of the trajectory of the impending disaster. Penelope’s skirt flared out like a whirlpool as they spun, and someone nearby gasped.

The lady crashed onto the ground gracelessly. Her cup shattered, the noise drawing everyone’s attention. All eyes were on them now, swiftly deducing what the lady had intended to do, and what Siyeon had averted with her seemingly quick thinking. Her mission accomplished, Siyeon released Penelope and asked, “Are you alright, my lady?”

“I’m fine, thanks to you.”

Siyeon dipped her head. “I was merely carrying out my duty.”

Penelope turned to the lady. The ball was in her court now.

“Lady Miranda.” The lady flinched. “You ought to be more careful next time, lest you make a bigger blunder.”

“Y-yes, my lady. I apologize.”

But Penelope wasn’t done yet. “You understand now, right? Why you couldn’t be my lady-in-waiting, no matter how miserably you wanted to use me to get close to my brothers?”

So that was why Miranda hated Penelope so much. She had been snubbed twice by the girl, and both times were related to her romantic pursuits. Miranda clenched her fists. She bowed her head and said, “Yes, I will work harder to improve myself.”

“Be sure that you do, as the tides of society wait for no one…” Penelope began walking away, and Siyeon followed her. The gathered crowd dispersed, and no one made any effort to help Miranda – to do so would be to associate themselves with her sullied name.

Tring!

◇ System ◇

Side mission

A Tea-rrific Incident

Completed!

[Rewards: Reputation ▲15, Fame ▲10]

Siyeon exhaled softly. The rewards were pretty good, even though she would have preferred racking up the male leads’ affection scores.

“Shall we go eat something?” Penelope suggested, looking hopefully at the dessert section.

Siyeon rubbed her abdomen, which had gotten a nasty jab from Penelope’s elbow during their twirl earlier. Coupled with the tightness of the corset and her missing meals earlier, she could feel pinpricks of pain and knew that if she tried eating now, there was a high chance she would hurl her guts over Penelope.

So she shook her head and opted to go to the balcony for some fresh air, telling Penelope to go ahead without her. It was the right decision, as the night breeze lightly washing over her immediately calmed her down, and she focused her attention on the stars dotting the sky. The noise of the banquet became an indistinct blur in the background that she could tune out.

Footsteps scuffed behind her. She whirled around.

Pure, snow white hair with an undertone of powder blue. Solemn violet eyes, gently creased at the corners. And, most glaringly, the neutral 0% poised above his head.

“May I join you on this balcony, my lady?” The question fell elegantly from Winter Verdandi’s lips.

Chapter Text

It was all Siyeon could do not to gape at Winter like a fool.

“Of course, my lord. It would be my pleasure to share this space with you.”

Shit. She had picked a secluded balcony at the far end of the hall expecting no one to disturb her, so had Winter chosen this spot on purpose? Or was it just a freak coincidence?

“Ah, where are my manners? I am the head of the Verdandi Marquessate, Winter Verdandi.”

I know.

She reciprocated the greeting, saying lightly, “A pleasure to meet you, my lord. I am Lady Penelope’s lady-in-waiting, Cha Siyeon.”

“Cha Siyeon? What an unusual, but lovely, name.”

The hair on the back of her head stood up. He had pronounced her name perfectly. It was a minute detail – he could just have exemplary articulation – if not for the fact that he was the owner of the very guild that had admitted to investigating her. That had facilitated her initial dealings with Penelope. That had been the venue for her first meeting with Derrick, where who knew what sort of secrets might have been spilled.

“Thank you for the compliment,” she said. Was her voice a little too stiff?

Winter didn’t seem to notice anything amiss and continued, “Does the banquet food not suit your tastes? Would you like me to get you anything?”

Yeah, and have you spike it with some weird poison?

There was no telling with these male leads. Winter might be milder than the others, but it didn’t mean he wasn’t capable of murder. No, it might imply he was even more cautious about it. She had no inkling of what Winter – the true Winter – was like, nor what sort of darkness lurked behind his deceptively courteous mask.

“No, it’s fine. I’m not very hungry.”

“A pity. I heard the macarons are especially delicious.”

The world seemed to stop its rotation suddenly, leaving Siyeon dizzy. “The macarons?”

“Yes. Do you have a favorite flavor?”

“I can’t say I do… What about you, my lord?”

She held her breath while he held her gaze. Something flickered in his eyes, before he smiled at her genially. “I’m partial toward blueberry macarons. They’re simply divine.”

“That’s… That’s nice. I find them delectable as well.”

“On the other hand, I absolutely detest” – his lips remained smiling but his eyes were wiped of any trace of warmth – “raspberry macarons. When I see them, I get the most irrational urge to crush them.”

She scrambled madly for something, anything, to say. “How unfortunate.”

She had to channel strength to her legs so they wouldn’t quake. He knew. He fucking knew.

And he was testing her, probing her, engaging her with ferocity in this battle of words and innuendos that he was utterly leading. Shadows danced in his guarded eyes, and there was such a subtle aura of hostility radiating from him that if she were less attuned to the extremity of mood swings she might have been oblivious to it.

His close proximity to her made her keenly aware of her position at the edge of the balcony, and how all it would take was one well-timed shove and she would be toppling over the baluster, cracking her head open on the ground below and buried underneath the same beautiful sky she was admiring moments ago.

“Are you alright? You’ve gotten quite pale.”

“Please don't worry, I’m fine.” What should she say? She fumbled for an excuse to get away from him. “I’ve been away from Lady Penelope for far too long, I should probably get back.”

Her next problem presented itself immediately: to get out of the balcony, she would have to walk past Winter. And she didn’t trust him. Nor did he trust her, she realized. Outwardly his body was relaxed but his wary eyes belied his casual stance.

“Siyeon!” someone sang. Penelope’s head popped into the balcony, a much welcome sight. “I knew you were here! Oh!” She spotted Winter then.

Siyeon held her breath, but for an entirely different reason this time. It was the first encounter between Penelope and Winter, and she didn’t know what to expect. In the back of her mind, she recalled how Winter was canonically the fourth to be introduced, after Callisto, and wondered if her presence caused the two to meet earlier than they should.

However this first meeting was, simply put, completely anticlimactic. Penelope scooted aside as Winter greeted her politely before he exited the balcony.

“What were you doing alone with the Marquis of Verdandi?” Penelope asked.

It suddenly occurred to Siyeon that in all her conversations with Penelope, not once had she specified which marquis she needed to court. It was a gross oversight on her part, one that she would need to rectify later in a less public setting.

“Or… did I interrupt something?”

Siyeon rolled her eyes at her suggestive tone. “Nothing of that sort.” Penelope didn’t seem to believe her. “He just happened to use the same balcony as I did.”

“Sure,” Penelope said dubiously. “Whatever you say.”

As they walked back to the banquet hall, Siyeon heard the familiar ping of the game system.

◇ System ◇

Congratulations!

The hidden event He Who Glows Brighter Than Fireflies

has been unlocked!

[Requirements: Prior encounters with three

male targets, Fame ►15]

Siyeon reread the window repeatedly, hoping the words would rearrange themselves to tell her that it was just a joke. A really terrible joke, but a preferable alternative to this new reality. And as if to drive in the final nail in the proverbial coffin, the footman announced, “His Imperial Highness, Crown Prince Callisto Regulus has arrived!”

A blanket of hush descended over all the guests, and some near the entrance visibly scuttered backward. From where she was, Siyeon could only watch, enraptured, as Callisto swept in, his carmine cape dragging behind him like a blood-red shadow.

Her mind went blank.

His brilliant blonde hair seemed to glow under the light of the chandelier, each strand like a thread of molten gold, and she found herself transfixed, immobilized by equal parts fear and allure. His appearance sucked the very light from the hall, making his surroundings look dull in comparison. He was truly the star of tonight – no one shone brighter than him.

And then the spell broke as Penelope muttered critically, “What a garish cape. He ought to have better tastes, really.”

She was concerned with his fashion? Apparently not even the crown prince, as renowned for his looks as he was for his lunacy, could impress her. Maybe it was the absurdity of the situation, but Siyeon found herself suppressing a chuckle.

The nobles resumed their intermingling, but there was an air of cautiousness now that the infamous crown prince had appeared. Siyeon heard two particularly daring nobles conversing in a low tone about how Callisto had been stood up by the rest of the imperial family. The emperor’s health had been weak for a while now, so he rarely attended any public events, but the absence of the empress and the second prince spoke volumes. They clearly didn’t want him to return at all.

Unwanted.

Didn’t that apply to them both? Who knew that she had something in common with that sadistic bastard. He didn’t stay for long before leaving, and after his departure, the atmosphere turned back to normal again. The banquet that was held to celebrate his return was in fact achieving the opposite.

Penelope grabbed her hand and yanked her away without warning, snaking through the crowd until they burst into the balcony from before. She panted heavily, explaining, “Brothers… there… avoid… them… hah…”

Siyeon surmised enough from her words.

Ping!

◇ System ◇

A new episode has begun! He Who Glows Brighter Than Fireflies

Do you wish to proceed?

◆YES◆ ◆NO◆

There was a cursor hovering between the “YES” and “NO” buttons. This was new. While Penelope was catching her breath, Siyeon stealthily tried to press on the “NO” button. Nothing happened. If that was the case, perhaps it needed to be Penelope who made the decision? How could she nudge the girl to reject the episode?

For the briefest moment, she weighed the two options and considered the wisdom of accepting the episode. In the game, she died the most number of times at Callisto’s hands, but there was also the reset button. Could she willingly place Penelope in peril just to verify the existence of the button?

… No. She couldn't.

It was one thing to use Penelope, to manipulate her, but she drew the line at outright toying with her life. Hypocritical of her pull out the conscience card, she knew, since what she was doing to Penelope right now wasn’t any better.

“Penelope –”

She glanced up, but the girl was gone.

***

Penelope rubbed her eyes, wondering if she accidentally fell asleep while standing up. She had been thinking of the crown prince, or more precisely, entertaining a fantasy where she stormed up to him and gave him an earful of his outfit, when she abruptly found herself here instead.

And where was here, anyway?

She looked around curiously, registering that she was in a forest. Tall trees loomed over her in all directions, shaking their gnarled limbs at her, and she shivered, rubbing her bare arms.

Somewhere ahead, a twig snapped. She froze.

A shadow darted in front of her. As it paused, she made out a cloaked figure, seemingly unaware of her presence. She scarcely dared to breathe as the figure moved away from her, creeping deeper into the pool of darkness ahead. Goosebumps scattered across her skin.

Somehow, she had a bad feeling. And she always trusted her gut instinct. But first, she needed to get out of this darn forest.

Except… everywhere looked the same! The trees were all equally grim and unwelcoming, and she thought that she might be walking in circles as she swore she kept doubling back on a spot she had already been to earlier.

Oho, I recognize this tree! Wasn’t it the one I passed by five minutes ago? Or maybe not? Ahhh!

That was how Penelope unwittingly found herself venturing deeper into the forest.

***

Siyeon bit out a curse, guessing that somehow Penelope must have triggered the game system to teleport her to the event location.

With no time to waste, she latched onto the only detail the event’s name gave her and accosted a startled servant, who revealed through stammering sentences that the only place to watch fireflies would be at the lake in the nearby Thuria Forest.

She somehow managed to avoid the attention of the other Eckharts, who were swamped with nobles and too far away to make out their affection scores, and slipped out of the hall. She did instruct the servant to pass on a message to the Eckharts to find her in Thuria Forest if she hadn’t returned in an hour. As much as she hated them, she still needed a fail-safe in case the meeting with Callisto went south. Following the directions the servant gave her, she rapidly made her way out of the palace, mumbling some excuse to the guards at the front gates.

Although it was called a forest, it was actually closer to a small wood, magically erected by an ancient emperor as an anniversary gift for his wife and named after her. Perhaps luck was on Siyeon’s side, since she didn’t bump into any guards around its perimeter. In any other situation she might have found it strange, but right now she was only filled with a pressing sense of urgency.

As she crossed the border of the wood, she hesitated, wondering which direction the lake was in. She was distracted by glinting in her peripheral vision. Golden sparkles lit the way deeper into the wood, as though guiding her.

Right, the system!

She followed the sparkles as they wound through the towering trees. She didn’t want to meet Callisto, but she didn’t want him to stab a sword into Penelope even more. And that was the only conceivable ending if the Barbarian of the Imperial Family crossed paths with the Rabid Dog of the Eckharts.

The sparkles led her through a narrow dirt path that emerged into a small clearing, which was flanked by a large glistening lake. The tranquil waters reflected a wobbly image of the half-moon on it. There was no one around. Siyeon blinked in confusion. Where was Penelope?

Belatedly, she realized that Penelope couldn’t see the sparkles. She couldn’t see anything from the game system at all – only Siyeon could.

Ripples undulated across the surface of the lake, swiftly accompanied by a loud splash as a man broke the surface, slicking back his blonde hair with one rough hand.

Siyeon’s heart stuttered. She stumbled back a step, and stepped on a branch.

Crimson eyes flicked to her, intense and hard, like glittering rubies.

“Well, well. You certainly weren’t the company I was expecting. What little rat do we have scurrying around here now?”

She should greet him. She had to greet him. Open her mouth, grab her skirt and curtsy. Apologize for wandering here accidentally, beg him for his forgiveness. But she was rooted to the ground, with her strength seeming to have all but abandoned her and her courage lying in ruined tatters around her immobilized self.

Callisto rose, and water cascaded down his chest – his naked chest.

An unrefined squeak escaped her lips.

What the hell was this?!

He raised a brow at her alarmed expression. “Surely you did not think I would take a swim with my clothes on?”

His question did not seem to warrant an answer, though she mutely shook her head. He began waddling out of the water, toward a lump of clothes beside the lake, and she dutifully averted her gaze as he dressed himself.

Instead, she used the time to think. There was no point trying to bolt now, not when he had already seen her. What sort of excuse or apology might he possibly accept?

The rustling of clothes stopped, and she deemed it safe to look at him again. He was wringing water out of his hair and eyeing her like she was a bug he had found under his shoe.

Well.

There were only two ways this could go now – either he would squish her flat or he would release her back into the wild.

Siyeon bowed deeply and cried out, “Please forgive me, Your Highness! I merely came here to watch the fireflies, and was ignorant of your radiant presence!”

“You came here to watch the fireflies?” His silken voice caused a pit of dread to form in her stomach. “Not me?”

“I…” Siyeon did not know how to answer without offending him. “I am sorry…”

He sighed annoyedly. “This is quite the pathetic sight. Rise.”

She straightened her back, hearing it pop loudly. They both did.

Just kill me now.

“Thank you for your magnanimity, Your Highness,” she said in a rush. “I will never forget it for as long as I live –”

“ – and how long will that be?” he purred. “I don’t recall saying I forgave you.”

Fuck.

As if to mock her, Callisto pointedly kept his sword unsheathed instead of returning it to its scabbard. He turned it over in his hand, a slight smirk playing on his lips. Siyeon clutched the sides of her skirt tightly, knuckles turning white. Potent fury sprang to life inside her, even as she choked it back.

“Your Highness is a busy man. You must have more important things to do than wasting it on harboring a grudge against a lowly girl like me.”

“And yet a lowly girl like you risks her tongue to give me some backhanded advice,” he said, a vicious edge to his words.

She lowered her head. “I wouldn’t dare. As your loyal subject and ardent supporter, I only have Your Highness’s interests at heart.”

There was a beat of silence where she could feel the gears turning in Callisto’s mind as he contemplated the sincerity of her words. Most likely he knew it was just empty flattery to get him to spare her, but he seemed to find some kind of twisted joy in prolonging the suspense.

“I suppose it’s only generous of me to reward your loyalty by overlooking your earlier blunder, then.”

Siyeon’s knees buckled, and she sagged to the floor in relief. She felt her cheeks flaming as she said, “Thank you, Your Highness.”

She couldn't believe it. She had survived the encounter with Callisto! Now all she had to do was get up, mumble some farewell and haul ass from here –

“Siyeon! There you are!”

Every muscle in her body locked up at that familiar voice.

No, no, no.

“Why are you on the ground – You!” Penelope shrieked, her voice shrill and triumphant, as though she had just caught the culprit of a particularly nasty crime scene red-handed.

And Siyeon knew how incriminating this scene looked. Here she was, kneeling on the ground, with Callisto glowering down at her, a sword in his hand. She closed her eyes and felt her soul leaving her body, as Penelope yelled, “Ha, how dare you torment my friend?”

She had crossed a hill only to encounter a mountain blocking her path.

Chapter Text

Penelope had stumbled around the woods, the notion of herself trapped down here for all eternity preying on her mind, when she heard voices coming from a clearing.

And what was the abominable scene that her fury-clouded eyes ended up witnessing? Siyeon prostrating before a cruel sword-wielding tyrant, the poor girl reduced to helpless shivers and looking like she was on the brink of tears. Dimly, Penelope recognized that the tyrant in question was the crown prince, but her fury overshadowed all else.

“Don’t worry, Siyeon, I know that you’re very afraid” – here Siyeon attempted to speak, but Penelope held up a reassuring hand – “but we must not let ourselves be oppressed just because of a difference in power! His Highness has gone overboard this time – how dare he persecute my person? – but no more! No longer shall I sit by idly and watch this foul fiend fret my friend!”

“Are you a poet?” Siyeon muttered, getting to her feet.

Penelope perked up. “Why yes, I recently had my first foray into – no, that’s beside the point! Stop sidetracking me.” She stepped forward, parking herself in front of Siyeon and squaring her shoulders. “Your Highness! Apologize! This! Instant!”

Siyeon snatched her arm, squeezing it warningly. But it was toward the crown prince that she said, “On behalf of her ladyship, I apologize. She is merely overcome with concern for my safety.”

He snorted. “Your touching display of friendship nauseates me. But loyalty is always commendable, so if you grovel before me now, who knows? You might be blessed with my last drop of mercy.”

Penelope wrenched her arm away from Siyeon, pride stung. “Why do we have to apologize when he was the one in the wrong first?”

“It’s all a misunderstanding – Your Highness!” Siyeon’s voice broke off, alarmed.

Something cold and steel flashed, pressing lightly against Penelope’s throat. The scent of metal penetrated the air.

“You were saying?” The sadistic grin on Callisto’s face made Penelope want to punch him, but the sword complicated things.

If he thought she would back down, he was going to be disappointed. But Siyeon cut in, a desperate tinge to her words, “Nothing. She was saying nothing. Penelope, please.”

Siyeon was afraid. Why? When Penelope was the one with a sword at her neck?

Wait.

There was… a sword at her neck.

Fear rushed in, the adrenaline that had previously drowned it out now washing off. Almighty above, her precious pretty head was in danger of rolling away at any second!

“Ah. I see you’ve finally regained your senses.” That arrogant tone. She hated it so much. She glared at him, scarcely daring to breathe lest her neck bumped into the blade and sliced itself of its own accord.

“Retract your blade at once!” she snapped. “Even if it’s Your Highness, you won’t be able to get away with murdering me!”

“Then let’s test if your claim is true.”

He lifted his sword high in the air and brought it down. Penelope screamed. As the blade arced down, though, it skewed to her left and there was a resounding clang as it clashed with another steel.

What?

Both Penelope and Siyeon spun around in time to see a masked figure leap back, grunting. Siyeon, standing beside Penelope, had frozen. Her face was devoid of color, frighteningly pale. Penelope would have shaken her by the shoulders to put some life back into her, but then the two men started fighting in earnest.

Callisto matched the man blow for blow, yet it was overwhelmingly clear who the victor would be right from the start. The man was pushed back, visibly straining with deflecting each of Callisto’s strikes, and eventually lost his grip on his sword as it was sent flying into the air. Crumpling to his knees, he gazed up with loathing in his eyes as Callisto rested his blade on his neck.

“I was wondering when you would show up.” Callisto nudged his neck up with the tip of his blade. “Did my lovely stepmother send you?”

The man released a shuddering laugh, his eyes swirling with mania. “Long live the empress, she who is rightfully first.”

Wrath contorted Callisto’s face as he drew back his sword, blindingly fast, and ruthlessly plunged it inside the man’s chest. Hot blood spurted out, some of it splattering onto Penelope’s neck and dress. She let loose a colorful stream of expletives, picked up from Reynold’s tendency to run his foul mouth.

“If you want to murder someone then do it quietly and secretly! Don’t involve other innocent people in it!”

He didn’t seem to be hearing a word of her complaints, still glaring down at the assassin with wide enraged eyes and flaring nostrils. Siyeon grabbed her arm and started tugging her away.

“Let’s go while he’s distracted,” she whispered. “Hurry!”

Siyeon didn’t need to tell her twice. Penelope had no intention of remaining behind. They dashed out of the forest, Siyeon dragging a huffing and panting Penelope along, and burst free from the woods with twigs and leaves sticking to their hair, slick with sweat.

“No wonder that security was non-existent. The guards were intentionally reduced to make things easier for the assassin,” Siyeon was muttering, biting on her nail.

Penelope swatted at her hand. “Don’t… do… that… Ugh.” She gulped down a mouthful of air. “Your nails will… get ugly.”

“You’re in no position to be nagging me! I should be doing that instead.” Siyeon raked her hand through her hair, messing it up even more. Her face was splotchy red, and Penelope wasn’t sure it was entirely from running. “Didn’t I say that Callisto was one of the men who had the potential to kill you? Knowing that, how could you deliberately provoke him?”

Penelope pressed her lips tightly together. If there was anything her novels had taught her, it was the existence of one magical word that could fix anything, even repairing the bridge of friendship. Now seemed like an appropriate time as any to test it out.

“… ry.”

“What?”

“Sorry.” Penelope peered up at her. “Don’t be upset at me, Siyeon. Please?”

Siyeon’s pinched features didn’t let up one bit, though her narrowed lips did seem to twitch a little. The redness had faded from her skin, leaving behind only a thin sheen of sweat.

Was it working?

“There isn’t anything we can do to change the past,” she admitted eventually, “so we can only adapt and advance forward. And avoid Callisto.” The last part was added after a slight pause.

“Adapt, advance, avoid.” Penelope ticked off her fingers, then mimed opening the lid of her head and dumping in the words. “Done!”

She managed to draw an unwilling chuckle from Siyeon. They resumed walking toward the palace.

“The crown prince didn’t harm you, did he?” Penelope asked anxiously. If he did, royalty or not, he was so going to regret ever being born. Though how she was going to do that was a mystery even to herself.

“No, we were just…” Siyeon hesitated. After a suspicious pause, she said, “We were just talking.”

Penelope frowned, but let it slide in favor of a more pressing question. “Just now, did you see me vanish?”

“… Vanish?”

She nodded impatiently. “I was standing next to you, but all of a sudden I wasn’t! I was in a forest! I don’t know how I got there. Do you?”

There was a pronounced beat of silence before Siyeon’s reply came.

“I haven’t got a clue.”

Her tone was measured, and her gaze was as steadfast as always, so why did Penelope feel so dissatisfied? It must be because she usually had an answer for everything. Sometimes Penelope forgot that Siyeon wasn’t omniscient.

“But if something crops up in my visions, I’ll let you know.”

By the time they tramped back to the palace, their legs were sore, worsened by how their ankles were chafed by their flimsy heels. Penelope hissed when one of the legs snapped off, and kicked off the other shoe, determined to break off the heel to make them even. No matter how hard she yanked, though, the heel stubbornly refused to yield.

“If you really must break it, try smashing it against this rock,” Siyeon suggested, procuring said rock and apparently not even going to bother dissuading her.

Where the hell did that rock come from? Penelope wondered. She raised her shoe and slammed it down, noting with satisfaction as the heel popped off and careened into –

“Ow!”

Ow?

She looked up to see a man rubbing his arm, a wince marring his handsome face. He was coming out of the gates in a hurry, and his formal attire evinced that he had just come from the banquet.

“Lord Verdandi!” Siyeon exclaimed. There was an odd cadence in her voice. “Are you alright?”

He smiled benignly at her. “Yes, I’m fine, my lady, please don’t worry.” He stepped closer, addressing Penelope, “I believe we met earlier, but I should introduce myself. I am Winter Verdandi of the…” His voice trailed off as his gaze latched onto Penelope’s neck, where a cold breeze tickled the dried blood.

“Are you injured?” One hand was already drifting to her neck, as though reflexively, to offer support.

Penelope slapped away his hand. Her eyes hardened. “Where do you think you’re touching?”

He blinked, then seemed to realize his transgression. Color rose high in his cheeks, and he grappled for an apology. She gave him no opening to defend himself and said pointedly, “I have eyes, you know. I saw you on the balcony with Siyeon.” She hit the sole of her shoe against her palm loudly, warningly. “If you think you can flirt with both her and me simultaneously, then think again. You better not try anything funny with Siyeon, because I will be watching you.”

There. That sounded like a real and proper threat. This guy… was his name Winter? His face passed her inspection, but his personality seemed a little, well, sleazy. She turned to Siyeon, expecting her to have a grateful mien, but the girl looked downright chagrined. Penny’s pleased smile faltered.

“Actually, I think we should get going now. Derri – I mean, my lady’s family is probably wondering where she is,” Siyeon said briskly.

With that, she grabbed Penelope’s wrist and whisked her away. The last thing Penelope caught was Winter’s expression, faint amusement sparkling in his violet eyes.

***

This night just never seemed to end.

Losing Penelope had been bad enough, until Callisto fucking Regulus appeared. Just when Siyeon thought it was all over, Penelope turned up along with her big mouth. Right as she thought things couldn’t get worse, an assassin materialized, fought Callisto and got murdered. Though ought it be considered self-defense instead?

She scowled as she recalled how her limbs had locked up in fear, rendered useless by the very emotion she swore to never let rule her. The blades clashed and clanged harshly, sending reverberations down to her very bones. She longed for the safety of her own world, where death typically came not in bouts of intense duels but in life gently leaving the wrinkled, chalky body, surrounded by loved ones and a lifetime’s trove of memories. She wanted the comfort of her bed and the laughter of her friends, not this savage place where everything felt and was foreign to her.

In short, she wanted everything she had taken for granted – all the normalcy and banalism of her previous life, sans her family, of course. They could rot in hell for all she cared. Why couldn’t they be the ones to be transported here?

That thought tugged at her uncomfortably, interrupted only when Penelope complained, “Siyeon, can I at least put on my shoe?”

As she watched the girl place her foot in her newly modified shoe, she tried to imagine what it would be like if her brothers were here instead of her. Yeah, good luck to them. Those tactless brutes would probably offend the first nobles they crossed paths with and wound up in the gallows.

Surprisingly, there were silver linings to be drawn from the two encounters earlier. She thought she was seeing things when Callisto’s affection score rose by two percent when he was blithely complimenting Penelope’s loyalty. Was it a value he held in high regard?

And then there was Winter, whose affection score rose by five percent during Penelope’s utterly mortifying monologue warning him about “flirting” with Siyeon. Flirting! Anyone with working senses could tell that the cold tension in the balcony was palpable enough to slice through – unless their name happened to be Penelope Eckhart, of course. Maybe his favorability went up because he felt entertained?

Strange, because she had been so certain that Penelope’s rapid-fire insults would earn their ire. Trying to read the minds of the male leads was like wading through quicksand. Probing deeper only made her more lost and helpless, but doing nothing condemned her to a slow death.

The guests murmured in earnest when they saw the sorry state Penelope and Siyeon returned in, and someone gasped when they spotted the dried blood on Penelope. The Eckharts swiveled to them sharply, and made a beeline for them. Reynold was the nearest, descending upon them like a prickly porcupine with its quills up.

“What’s this about Thuria Forest? And why is there blood on your neck?” he growled, the irritation in his eyes momentarily waning.

“It’s not the lady’s blood,” Siyeon said immediately. Knowing Reynold, it was not a stretch to imagine that he might jump to the conclusion that Siyeon was the one who injured Penelope.

“Then whose is it?” And here came his lovely older brother who was just as likely to leap to the same conclusion.

Siyeon turned to Derrick, noticing belatedly that his favorability had increased, and said in a low tone, “It belonged to an assassin.”

His eyes flared. “An assas –” He caught himself in time and broke off. With a sweeping glance at the nearby nobles who were all pretending not to be eavesdropping, he said, “It’s getting late. We should return soon.”

“Indeed.” Duke Eckhart approached them, having extracted himself from a cluster of stern-looking men stuffed into stiff suits. “We will discuss this later.”

The ride back was somehow even more painful than the journey here. Penelope fell asleep, so Siyeon was left to aimlessly stare out the window. The place where Penelope’s head touched her shoulder was burning from Derrick’s heavy gaze.

Nonetheless, her peripheral vision took in the large zero floating above his head. She assumed it had gone up after the “A Tea-rrific Incident” event, since Penelope handled the situation with grace.

Ding!

◇ System ◇

Hidden event He Who Glows Brighter Than Fireflies

failed!

[Penalty: None]

Siyeon’s expression darkened. Did the stupid mission fail because Callisto and Penelope hadn’t actually come across any fireflies?

The carriage rattled to a stop. They had reached the manor. Siyeon gently shook Penelope awake. The girl yawned and blinked around confusedly. Pennel was there to greet them despite the late hour, though she would have much rather he not.

Duke Eckhart wasted no time summoning Penelope and Siyeon to his study the moment they stepped inside the main building. Reynold hovered nearby, dithering, but hastily scooted down the hallway when his gaze collided with Siyeon’s. That left Derrick, who insisted on joining them.

The duke took one look at Penelope’s fatigue-laden face and rebuffed his attempt. “If you’re there, it’ll only drag the meeting out.”

Thus, the three of them found themselves seated in the duke’s study. Siyeon glanced around furtively. It was her first time here, though she had seen it in the game before.

“Explain.” The duke waved a tired hand. “The blood. The assassin. The reason why a servant came to me saying you were at Thuria Forest. Explain everything and leave nothing out.”

He was addressing both of them, but looking only at Siyeon. Heck, even Penelope was looking at her.

Keep to the verifiable facts and twist the unverifiable truth.

Siyeon folded her hands on her lap.

“Shortly after His Highness arrived, Lady Penelope –”

“Just call me by name,” Penelope cut in. “You already do that in private anyway.”

The duke didn’t object, so Siyeon murmured, “If that is what you wish.” She continued, “Penelope grabbed my hand and led me to the balcony to” – avoid you and your sons – “get some fresh air. It was there that I spotted a suspicious person loitering on the palace grounds, and a vision struck me.”

Both father and daughter sat a little straighter.

“It showed me the crown prince being stabbed in a forest. However, my visions are not infallible, so I decided to investigate on my own until I was certain of its validity. I informed a servant to tell you of my location in the event that I didn't return, which would surely mean that something had gone awry.”

“Wait, was that what really happened?” Penelope whispered into Siyeon’s ear. She almost groaned. She was trying to trick the duke, so what was Penelope doing falling for it!

“Not now,” she gritted out quietly.

The duke fell into contemplative silence. Then he asked, “What about Penelope? You didn’t explain the blood.”

The time had come to throw Penelope under the bus. Siyeon lied smoothly, “She followed me of her own accord.”

“I did?”

Siyeon stomped on her foot.

“Ouch – Er, of course I did. I was wondering where she was going, so naturally I… followed her,” Penelope finished lamely.

The duke grunted in disapproval. “You shouldn’t have gone out alone like that. You know that a noble ought to be accompanied by at least two guards, right? What if someone had kidnapped you for ransom? Or worse?”

Penelope shot Siyeon a betrayed look before saying, “I will reflect on myself, Father.”

And just like that, all the anger seemed to leave his body. “I suppose the blame should be pinned on the perpetrators and not you. Still, you must always be extra cautious outside of the duchy’s walls.”

“I will!” she chirped.

Siyeon watched the entire exchange, her heart pinching. Because of the necklace misunderstanding the two became distant in the game, but perhaps not all hope was lost for their relationship. It shouldn’t matter to her, yet it did. Could it be salvaged? She didn’t know, but what she did know was she had to save her own hide first.

“Please believe me that if I had known that Penelope was following me, I wouldn’t have charged into the forest and put her in such grave danger,” Siyeon said earnestly. “Alas, it was too late when I became aware of her presence, and by then the assassin was already making his move. His Highness dispatched him swiftly, but blood got onto Penelope’s body and dress.”

The duke studied her for a few moments. Then he nodded his head, his stern expression easing. “You did good.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“The assassination was almost certainly ordered by someone from the second prince’s faction. You witnessed an imperial secret. We can use it to put pressure on the empress, though nothing too overt, or” – here his eyes glinted, shrewd and devious – “we can remind the crown prince of the debt he now owes us.”

Siyeon’s brows furrowed. Debt? Something seemed off about the duke’s line of reasoning. But before she could clarify what he meant, he was already moving on.

“You’ve had a long day, both of you. Return to your rooms and rest.”

Penelope stood at once, and Siyeon followed suit. As the door closed behind them, she heard a familiar ping.

◇ System ◇

Event quest

The Truth of Thuria Forest

Completed!

[Reward: Reynold’s favorability ▲3%, Derrick’s favorability ▲3%]

She skimmed over the words, pleasantly surprised at the rewards, though her thoughts were still lingering on her conversation with the duke. But somewhere in the very back of her mind, lodged in a corner that she would only visit much later, a quiet question burned: had such a quest existed in the original game?

Chapter Text

It happened on the third evening after the crown prince’s homecoming banquet. Penelope was on her way back from the library when she came across Reynold positioned along the hallway, staring intently at an upside-down book. He slammed it shut when she approached, making a show of glancing up and being surprised to see her.

“Penelope? Oh, so your room is down this way!”

She gave him a strange look. “Have you lost your mind? You’ve been living in this house longer than me!”

He scowled. “Well, seeing that you’re so chirpy, you must be feeling fine. I mean, you are fine, right? That girl said the blood wasn’t yours anyway.”

Penelope’s chest tightened to the point of being painful. He sounded almost… concerned. Could he actually be worried about her?

My only sister is dead.

She flinched, and shook her head. No, wasn’t this reaction what she had been hoping for? But what if she was wrong again? What if she was misinterpreting this, twisting his words and tone into her own fanciful delusion? What if, what if, what if…

“Penelope?” Reynold was still waiting for an answer.

“Why do you even care?” The words slipped out against her will. She clasped a hand over her mouth. That wasn’t what she wanted to say.

He reeled back. “W-what? I – Who said I care? I don’t! About you, or – or anything!” With a huff, he stormed past her, crushing the spine of the poor book in his hand. She caught a glimpse of its title: Reconciliation Begins With Retrospection.

Amid the tightening pain in Penelope’s chest was a kind of blooming hope, unfurling gingerly. Petals shriveled and dying were beginning to be revitalized once more… but for how long?

She had no idea how she walked back to her room, or when Emily entered and started brushing her hair, but she snapped out of her daze when the girl excitedly revealed that the duke had called a family dinner.

“And I heard from Hannah that His Grace told Lady Siyeon to attend too!” Emily shared. While scurrilous rumors abounded about Siyeon’s origins, Emily seemed of the opinion that she was someone important simply because Penelope treated her as such.

Penelope smiled. Finally she could see Siyeon again!

Derrick, after realizing and accepting that he could not chase Siyeon away, seemed to have set his mind on separating the two as much as possible. The day before, he brought in eleven tutors, claiming that Siyeon’s education needed refining. He also urged that she dabble in some non-scholarly pursuits, suggesting a sojourn at their countryside villa to learn about the art of pottery. Of course, he conveniently dropped the idea when Penelope volunteered to go with her.

Thankfully before he initiated this petty plan of his, the two had managed to have a long-overdue conversation where Siyeon explained that what she said to the duke was a cover story to assuage his anger. Most notable was her revelation that Winter Verdandi – yes, that sleazy man! – was the very marquis Penelope had to befriend-and-maybe-romanticize.

She shuddered. No matter how Siyeon tried to assure her that Winter was “many things but definitely not a slimeball”, Penelope couldn’t believe her, especially when she didn’t even know what a slimeball was. Was it a good or bad thing?

Her mind painted a bleak mental image: four out of five candidates struck out in black, leaving behind one faceless stranger. A slave, was it? She thought about asking Siyeon more about him the next chance she got, then decided against it. Sometimes, ignorance could be bliss and information a poison.

“All done!” Emily said, stepping back.

Penelope brushed a hand down her skirt and stood, admiring herself in the mirror. Emily’s skills elevated her appearance from beautiful to gorgeous.

“Good job.”

Emily bowed her head bashfully.

The walk to the dining room was a familiar one, and she was early for once. She took the seat beside the table’s head, watching boredly as the maids hurried to finish setting the table, shooting her furtive glances. Her foot tapped restlessly on the floor. When was Siyeon coming?

Someone swept into the room, and she knew who he was even before she looked up.

“… Brother.”

Derrick took his place opposite her, commenting, “You’re early.”

“You say it like it’s a bad thing.” Wasn’t he the one who kept nagging at her to be punctual?

He arched a brow. “Every time you act out of the norm, there is an ulterior motive behind it.”

She pursed her lips but couldn’t deny his words.

Reynold walked in and did a double take at seeing Penelope. Their spat from earlier was still fresh on her mind, so she averted her gaze from him. Third time was the charm, apparently, as Siyeon entered afterward, fighting back a yawn. She claimed the seat next to Penelope.

“Greetings, Young Masters, my lady.” There were bags under her eyes, and Penelope cursed Derrick internally for putting Siyeon through all those grueling lessons.

Reynold gawked at Siyeon. “You! Why are you here?”

“His Grace called for my presence,” she said calmly.

He turned to his brother, seeking confirmation. Derrick nodded stiffly. Somehow, Penelope wasn’t surprised that he got wind of that information. Their father arrived then, halting their conversation. Pleasant surprise flared in his usually emotionless eyes when they landed on Penelope.

He took his spot at the head of the table, saying, “Since everyone’s here, let's eat.”

At his signal, they dug in. Penelope’s attention shifted to the cutlery laid out in front of her, and her heart sank at the sight of the toy utensils, gleaming at her mockingly.

Again?

Her jaw clenched. Horror struck her as she wondered whether Siyeon had been given a similar treatment. Her head swiveled, eyes tracing down to the adjacent set of cutlery – mercifully untampered with. She slumped in her seat, relieved.

This was swiftly followed by a wave of sharp anger and burning shame as Siyeon glanced over, her eyes narrowing into slits when she noticed what the maids had done. Penelope didn’t want anyone to see her humiliation but especially Siyeon. She didn’t want to be deemed lesser.

Nothing has changed.

Emily’s attitude transformation wasn’t a sign of development but of exception. The servants in this household had always opposed Penelope, their collective voice drowning out her futile pleas. The line between them was drawn tight, her father and brothers having picked a side, and it wasn’t hers.

Siyeon nudged her with her elbow.

Penelope shook her head slightly, gaze downcast and posture erect. Funny how their situations had reversed; now it was Penelope entreating Siyeon to turn a blind eye.

“Have you been adapting well to your new environment, Siyeon?” Her father’s voice put a hold on their silent communication.

“Yes. Your Grace and everyone else have been most accommodating.”

“I’m glad to hear that. I heard that Derrick has taken it upon himself to oversee your studies?”

Penelope saw her opening and took it. She intervened, “Oh, yes! Brother arranged twelve tutors for her. I’ve been meaning to ask you about this, actually.” She widened her eyes and stared at him pleadingly. “Can’t you do something about it? Look at how tired Siyeon is! Her conduct at the recent banquet was also exemplary, so I don’t think she needs any lessons at all. Please, Father?”

Reynold made a gagging sound. She kicked him under the table. Derrick stiffened, glaring at her.

… Oops, wrong target. Perhaps she should work on refining her aim.

Duke Eckhart set down his knife. “Is that true? Do you feel overwhelmed by your lessons?”

Siyeon replied evenly, “While I appreciate the young master’s intentions, I must confess that they are starting to take a toll on me.”

“Hmm.” He sipped his drink, taking his time to reply. “Derrick, reduce them by half.”

With a direct order like that, Derrick couldn’t refuse. “Yes.”

Penelope cringed at his biting tone.

“And since we’re all here, I have an official announcement to make.” Her father placed his hands on the table and interlocked his fingers. “I punished Reynold for provoking Penelope during her birthday banquet. It seems only fair that I treat you the same for sending someone to tail her, Derrick.”

Reynold’s fork scraped loudly against his plate. “Wait, he did what?”

“So would you have me clean the stables as well?” Derrick asked, voice deathly calm.

“No. It took me a long time to come to this decision. Rather than assigning you manual labor, I thought revoking certain privileges might be more apt.”

“Such as?”

“From now on, you will focus wholly on inheriting the duchy and stay out of your sister’s affairs – including any punishments for future misdemeanors. I will handle those myself.”

Penelope dropped her spoon, which hit the rim of her plate and clanged onto the floor. No one chastised her.

“Father… Do you” – Derrick’s words seemed stuck in his throat, coming out strangled – “not trust me now?”

“Of course I trust you,” the duke said gently, “but with Penelope’s coming-of-age ceremony steadily approaching and the heavy burden of your succession duties, I thought this new arrangement might work better. For both of you.”

Derrick’s expression clouded over, but he jerked his head rigidly. “I will follow your command.”

Penelope noticed that his knuckles remained white for the rest of the meal, hands clenched tightly around his utensils. She ought to feel touched at his display of concern for her, but did his reluctance truly stem from a place of genuine worry? She shook her head to dispel her cynical thoughts.

Of course it did, she thought wryly. What else could it be?

***

“Where are we going?”

“You’ll see. It’s a surprise!”

Penelope’s cryptic reply didn’t seem to soothe Siyeon. If anything, she appeared even more apprehensive.

“Does His Grace know?”

Penelope shrugged. “More or less?”

Siyeon’s eyes narrowed. “Wait a second, you have something in your hair.” Her hand snaked up and Penelope yelped as she felt a sharp prickly pain. A flash of magenta vanished in Siyeon’s hand.

Penelope kneaded her scalp. “It hurts,” she complained.

“Sorry,” Siyeon said blandly. “I must have accidentally pulled on your hair.”

“It’s fine. Anyway, do you see any that you like? How about this darling?”

The mare whinnied at the attention, her large eyes blinking slowly. They were at the Eckharts’ stable, choosing horses for their little excursion. Penelope rubbed her hands giddily. It was the first time she had someone to accompany her! She didn’t count the two guards assigned by her father to follow her from afar as proper company since they usually didn’t even show their faces in front of her, let alone converse with her. She wondered if Siyeon liked riding.

Her eyes widened. “Hold on. Do you even know how to ride?”

Considering Siyeon’s background, it might be overly presumptuous of her to drag her along without confirming her skills.

“Yes. I… used to enjoy riding. Very much.” The half-smile that graced Siyeon’s lips transformed her usual poker face into a softer one. Her eyes took on a distant look, as if she was no longer in the present but was cruising along somewhere in her past memories.

Penelope’s forehead creased. Wasn’t Siyeon an orphan? “Where would you have gotten the opportunity to learn –”

“She’s such a beauty,” Siyeon interrupted. Her gaze was locked onto the mare. “What’s her name?” She glanced at the stableman expectantly.

He bowed. “Kystie, m’lady.”

She nodded. Her hand reached out, and she stroked Kystie’s neck. Kystie shifted, nuzzling her palm. “I’ll take her. If it’s alright with you, Penelope?”

“That’s a given. I brought you here for that very reason.”

The stableman went to work placing a saddle on Kystie. Siyeon fed her a carrot, which the mare gulped up greedily. Meanwhile, Penelope ambled over to the opposite stall and stroked Skylark, a Lenshivel horse with a dark azure coat. A saddle was already fitted on her back.

Penelope unclasped the latch and kicked open the door, her leather boots sending up a flurry of dust. At her gesture, the stableman hurried over to help her up on Skylark. He grunted and practically shoved her into position. Once up there, she wobbled for a few precarious moments before regaining her stability.

Her lips broke into a grin. “Now let’s go!”

Siyeon inclined her head. “Gladly.” In one smooth motion, she leaped and mounted Kystie, her leg swiping through the air in a perfect arc.

Penelope blew out a hot puff of air at the flawless execution. Sometimes the Almighty was really unfair.

They made their way out of the estate and their mares kicked into a trot, Kystie following Skylark’s lead. The wind billowed through Penelope’s hair, running its ghostly fingers through her hair, tied high at the back of her head. Dressed in comfortable breeches and a long-sleeved shirt tucked into her pants, she let out an exhilarated exclamation as she urged Skylark into a canter.

Freedom. This was the taste of freedom.

“Isn’t this fun?”

As if in answer, she heard the twin echo of Siyeon’s laughter, soaring behind like a blazing trail of light.

***

They were drenched in sweat by the time they reached their destination. A modest-sized building stood in front of them. It wasn’t decrepit, but it was also painfully obvious that it had undergone much maintenance over the years. There were off-colored bricks in the masonry suggesting repair work, and the windows were different in shapes – some angular, others circular.

“This is…” Siyeons’ voice faded as she saw the worn-out sign. “Little Spark Home?”

“Mm.” Penelope busied herself tying Skylark’s reins to a tree. “It’s an orphanage for young children. Now you just be a good girl and wait here for me, alright?” She petted Skylark, who whinnied.

The wrought iron gate creaked open and an elderly woman hurried out. Siyeon took in her traits immediately – mousy hair, round glasses, a walking cane in one hand and the most conservative outfit she had seen to date. The collar was so high and tight that breathing looked difficult.

“Oh! Oh my goodness, it’s really you, Miss Penny!”

“Miss Penny?” Siyeon whispered to Penelope, who only mouthed “Shh”.

Toward the frenzied woman she beamed and said, “Hello Maria! I was in the area running an errand and decided to pop by to see the kids.”

Maria thumped her hand on the head of her cane. “With two very beautiful mares and not a single package in sight? Be honest with me. Did you sneak out behind the lady’s back again?”

Penelope just grinned unabashedly.

Maria bit her lips. “You have to be careful, Penny. The lady’s reputation is vicious. If you get caught, being sacked would be the least of your worries!”

“I know, I know,” Penelope said cheerfully, “but since I’m here on limited time, let’s skip the lecture and get going with the important part. Where are the children?” She grabbed Maria’s arm and began towing the middle-aged woman toward the orphanage, signaling to Siyeon to follow.

As Penelope and Maria conversed, Siyeon discerned that for some reason, the woman – who was the director of the orphanage – was under the impression that “Penny” was a servant working under the lady of the Eckhart Duchy.

“Who’s your pretty companion over here?”

“Ah.” Penelope paused. “She just started work at the duchy. Her name is” – mischief glinted in Penelope’s eyes – “Yeonnie.”

The “Yeonnie” in question choked on empty air.

Maria’s eyes creased up at the corners as she smiled gently. “Nice to meet you, Miss Yeonnie. The children will be happy to see a new face.”

Siyeon hesitated. “Likewise,” she said quietly.

“Miss Penny!” someone squealed.

Siyeon turned to see a small girl in pigtails bouncing up and down excitedly. Suddenly they were surrounded by a dozen children, all clamoring for Penelope’s attention.

“Miss Penny, look, look!” A boy stuck out his foot proudly. “We got new shoes for Gracidea Day!”

His friend nodded his head emphatically. “It was from the a-mony-nous donor! I wrote a card thanking them and asking for new clothes next time!”

“It’s anonymous, you idiot.”

“I’m not an idiot!”

Penelope placed her palms on their heads. “James, it’s not nice to call people names. Andy, you shouldn’t shout at your friend.”

They bowed their heads.

“What should you say?”

“Sorry…” they mumbled to each other.

“And?”

“I’ll never do that again.”

Penelope patted their heads. “Good job!”

Siyeon couldn’t help it. She snorted.

“Yeonnie, do you have something to say?” Penelope asked sweetly.

“You yell at people all the time though. I don’t see you apologizing for it.”

The children gasped theatrically, reeling back.

Penelope smiled through gritted teeth, saying, “That’s different. Children, those people I yell at are most definitely not my friends. They are… evil demons in disguise!”

They gasped again, some covering their eyes, others screaming. Siyeon rolled her eyes. Children were so easy to deceive.

“Miss Penny has to face evil demons?”

Penelope nodded gallantly.

“Then who is worse?” James asked abruptly. “Between the evil demons and the Red Witch?”

Penelope’s smile faltered. “That is…”

“Who’s the Red Witch?” Siyeon found herself asking.

James wrinkled his nose. “You don’t know her? She’s the evil lady of the Eckhart Duchy! Miss Penny works under her, and I heard that she abuses the staff and is very rude and arrogant!”

Siyeon’s eyes flicked to Penelope, whose face had whitened. Not with icy rage like she expected, but with resigned misery. She waited for the girl to contradict James’s words. To tear into him until he was reduced to tears.

Instead, Penelope gave a forced chuckle. “I’m not sure, actually.”

Siyeon just stared and stared at her.

Penelope Eckhart.

Horribly proud and swift to anger. A pauper queen who bowed to no one and knelt before no ruler. She, who wore her pride like a second skin, who raked venomous words down her foes’ faces…

She was tolerating the unknowing snubs of a mere orphan whom most would have considered beneath her status.

Maybe that was why Siyeon crouched down, looked James in the eye and said clearly, “You’ve got it wrong, little kid. The lady isn’t a mean person. She’s been very nice to me. Don’t you know she’s friends with your anonymous donor?”

Penelope startled. Siyeon just raised her brow at her. Did she really think she wouldn’t put two and two together and figure out who the anonymous donor was?

James’s cheeks flushed red. His lips quivered. Siyeon recoiled when he yelled, “You – you’re probably an evil hag too if the Red Witch likes you!”

Her jaw dropped when he burst into tears and Maria hastily stepped in to comfort him, murmuring apologies to Siyeon. Siyeon simply blinked in growing disbelief. What did she even do? This… This was exactly why she disliked children so much!

They stayed at the orphanage playing with the kids until the sun began to set. Mercifully, it was only James whom Siyeon didn’t get along with. He stubbornly refused to apologize to her, who buried her pettiness and took it in stride. When it was time to go, he stuck out his tongue at her. She smiled back at him graciously, which made him scowl.

That little brat. She would remember him alright, even if that made her narrow-minded.

Still, as James fiddled with a hole in his shirt, she recalled what Andy had said about wanting new clothes. She had a feeling that their “anonymous donor” would be granting that wish.

She glanced at Penelope from the corner of her eye. Once again, the game’s famed villainess had shown her a side that had never been revealed to the world before. Probably never would.

It was truly a shame.

Chapter Text

The scritch-scratching of the bobbing quill penetrated each beat of silence in the room. Siyeon watched as Ludoda set down the quill and polished her eyeglasses.

At last she said mildly, “Your dissertation was decent. At the very least it was apparent you managed to finish the assigned tomes.” She scrutinized Siyeon beneath her lashes, but Siyeon only smiled modestly.

Reading painfully boring texts? Writing long essays? Consulting with a tutor? She had been there, done those and gotten exemplary results as well. Compared to the academic rigor she underwent in Korea, this was a walk in the park.

“There is, however, a glaring error in your composition.” Ludoda tapped the center of the vellum. “Writing that the Holy Chalice’s ‘current whereabouts remains a contested topic’ is a most egregious blunder in light of its recent rediscovery. Though that information is not privy to the public yet.”

Then how the heck was I supposed to know about it?

Instead, Siyeon said, “I will take note of it. Thank you for the correction.”

“So far we have only explored the internal dynamics of Eorka. We’ll do something different this week. Your task is to analyze another kingdom’s relations with the empire and write a report on your findings.”

Siyeon frowned. The task was too vague, its boundaries too broad. And she didn’t know much about affairs outside of the empire.

“If you’re stuck, I suggest choosing a kingdom that has a rich history entwined with Eorka’s. Think of any past wars or major trading.”

Trading? The word tugged on Siyeon’s memories. Wasn’t there something about… Right, Count Wanshette’s ship had sunk, and with it goods that were supposed to be for trading with another kingdom were all lost. What was its name again?

“Nelshan,” Siyeon recalled.

“That’s a good choice,” Ludoda said in rare approval. “There’s a lot to uncover so I’m expecting a detailed report.”

After her lesson, Siyeon decided to head to the library to research Nelshan. Procrastination, as she was prone to do once she put off a task, did her no favor, a fact she had painfully realized firsthand. She found she wasn’t alone, however, swiftly recognizing the flash of magenta hair peeking between the wooden bookshelves.

“Penelope?”

The girl startled, jumping. She whirled around. “Hi there, Siyeon!” She stashed the book she was reading hurriedly back onto the ledge and stepped out of the aisle. “What are you doing here?”

Siyeon let Penelope steer her away, noting vaguely that she had been browsing the romance section, and replied, “Doing research for an essay assignment.”

“What is it about?”

Siyeon briefly went through its details. Penelope nodded her head thoughtfully.

“I know what you can write about. It’s my speciality.”

“Let me guess. Getting into arguments?” Siyeon asked dryly.

“Ha. Ha. Very funny.” Penelope’s tone suggested she was anything but amused. “Anyway, I was referring to Nelshan’s textile industry!”

“Textile?”

“Mm. They have plenty of rare fabrics. I would have loved to wear a gown spun from their Welnspide fabric,” Penelope said dreamily, sighing. “Off-shoulder dresses are rising in trend, and their material would be just perfect for the bold design.”

“Then why don’t we go check them out?”

“What?”

Siyeon’s suggestion surprised even herself. Still, as she was going to be stuck in Eorka for the foreseeable future, she should assimilate herself into this world’s customs and cultures – including their trends. Cooping herself in the mansion all day would be a waste of time. And what better way to gain information than through the word on the street?

“You like shopping, don’t you?”

Contrary to her expectations, Penelope seemed reluctant.

“I mean, yes, but the tailors are usually called to the house. Going out is also troublesome.”

Aha, Siyeon suddenly realized. Is it because of Derrick?

Penelope craved her family’s approval like an addict craves drugs. Anyone who interacted with Derrick for a minute could tell how much he would oppose the idea of Penelope leaving the estate for mundane reasons. And if he didn’t approve, then wouldn’t she bend herself to his will?

“Let’s go,” Siyeon said firmly. “I want to go.”

Penelope perked up. “Really? Hmm, I suppose there’s no choice if you want to go… I should accompany you, shouldn’t I?” A wide grin broke on her face. “And come to think of it, with Father’s new edict, it’s not as if my eldest brother can prevent me from going out. Wait for me, I’ll go get ready.” She ran out of the library giddily.

Twenty minutes later, a carriage was rumbling down to the marketplace, bringing with it Siyeon and Penelope.

“The last time I went to the boutique, I was already in a foul mood, and then I had the misfortune of meeting that rotten Lady Bianca. So this time, I must have fun,” Penelope said determinedly. “Today will be my treat. Siyeon, if anything catches your eye, just buy it!”

The girl was so enthusiastic that Siyeon didn’t mention it was technically the duke’s money she would be spending, so it should be his treat. The carriage stopped outside the boutique, and the pair exited, Penelope taking the lead. The bell on the door rang, signaling their arrival. There was only one other customer waiting in the store, so the clerk darted over to serve them.

“Welcome to – Lady Penelope?” the clerk squeaked. “I mean, it is an h-honor to serve you again!” She didn’t sound very honored. In fact, she sounded scared out of her wits.

Penelope sniffed. “Show me the latest Nelshan collection. My friend here is interested in their fashion.”

“Of course! Would you like the catalog or a physical selection?”

“Can a catalog ever display the true beauty of their fashion?”

The clerk stared at her with large eyes. “So… the… selection?” she whispered.

Penelope cocked her head. “Isn’t it obvious?”

“Yes!” She fled into the stockroom.

They both took a seat on the couch.

“What?” Penelope asked when she noticed Siyeon’s gaze on her.

“The more I look at you, the more I think you’re like Callisto…” Siyeon replied automatically. People also cowered from him everywhere he went. Granted, Siyeon was one of those people.

“Callisto? You’re on a first-name basis with that rude prince? And I am not like him in any shape, form or capacity!”

Crap, his name slipped out accidentally. “I was just joking,” Siyeon said soothingly. “You’re completely different from him!”

“Hmph.”

“Sorry for the wait, His Highness’s clothes are ready.”

They both turned in unison to their left. The other customer in the store, a man in round glasses and a loose coat, stood and walked over to the counter, accepting a large package from the frazzled clerk.

“Thank you.” He signed the payment scroll and handed her a bag of coins.

His Highness? Penelope mouthed to Siyeon. The crown prince? Or the second prince?

Why does she think I’ll know if she doesn’t? Siyeon thought, baffled. Oh right – she was supposed to be the legendary prophet here.

They got their answer soon enough. The man paused on his way out, stopping in front of them and bowing slightly to Penelope. “I greet the Lady of the Eckhart Duchy. As the crown prince’s aide, I’m sure he would have been… interested to hear your views of him.”

Their incriminating conversation flashed through Siyeon’s mind. “His Highness has enough workload on his plate. I’m sure you are not someone who bothers him with trivial gossip, right?” she asked meaningfully. The implication in her words was clear.

“Certainly not. But if His Highness asks what took me so long, as he is prone to doing, then I will have to tell the truth.”

Penelope said through gritted teeth, “Then you best return and do it fast.”

The aide left without further dawdling. Siyeon cursed herself and her babbling mouth internally. Callisto wouldn’t be petty enough to hold a grudge against them just for that, would he? She thought of the numerous times she had died in the game at his hands, all for minor reasons.

Scratch that, he totally would.

“Oh my, Lady Penelope!” A woman burst out of the stockroom, fawning over Penelope. “I was so regretful I didn’t get to meet you personally the other day. Heavens, where are my manners? I’m Aubrey Feydenne, the chief designer of this boutique lucky enough to house your lovely presence.”

Penelope held up a hand. “Be done with the prattling. Just when will you show me the selection?”

Aubrey fumbled out an apology and hastily directed her employees to set up the mannequins for the more elaborate dresses and rolling racks for the daily wear gowns. Siyeon thought they were all equally magnificent, but Penelope’s reaction was lukewarm.

“Don’t you have anything else?”

Aubrey paused, then seemed to make up her mind. “Actually, we do have a new design that hasn't been shown to anyone else yet… but our store will make an exception for you, my lady.”

“Oh?”

“Bring that out,” Aubrey ordered one of her workers.

Siyeon expected to see another fancy gown, but her eyes bugged out when she saw a very familiar off-shoulder top and jeans being brought out on a mannequin. Wasn’t this what she had sold to that eccentric collector? Why was it here?

“It’s pants,” Penelope said, surprised.

“Yes! Nelshan is known for their bold and revolutionary fashion. This particular design was created by renowned modiste Nathaniel des Revase.”

Siyeon barely listened to a word that Aubrey said. On a closer look, the top and jeans weren’t exactly what she wore. The color and cutting were different. The shirt was also frilly around the edges, and longer than hers. She recalled the collector’s – Jamus’s – words.

After you traded your clothes with me, a passing gentleman saw their value and bought them.

So the passing gentleman he was referring to was actually some famous designer from the neighboring kingdom? One absurd thing had led to another absurd thing, and Siyeon was in disbelief at the bizarre progression of events.

“This new style of fashion is apparently spreading rapidly among the Nelshan citizens, so Lord Nathaniel decided to export it to Eorka to expand his reach,” Aubrey continued. “All this is still unrevealed to the public, so I trust your ladyship to keep it under wraps?”

“Of course. No one can keep a secret better than me.” Siyeon doubted that. Judging by Aubrey’s expression, she also didn’t buy it. “Anyway, once this design is available on the market, send one set to the Eckhart Duchy. Who knows when I might need to disguise myself again…”

“Excuse me?”

Penelope waved a hand. “It’s nothing.”

Aubrey smiled ingratiatingly in a toadlike way. “Then, shall we browse some of our other collections together? We have this absolutely exquisite set of dresses from…”

Siyeon’s mind was still reeling from the shock of seeing her modern outfit on display in this world. Unbidden, she thought of the event quest “The Truth of Thuria Forest”, and how such a quest definitely never appeared in the game before. Was it called the butterfly effect? Somehow, these changes that seemed so diminutive, so insignificant, chipped away at her uneasily…

***

There weren't a lot of hiding places in the room Siyeon had been given. It was spacious and sparsely decorated, with only a bed, a desk, and a closet.

She tucked the marked report that Ludoda had returned to her in the upper shelf of her desk. Her fastidious tutor had been unexpectedly satisfied with her analysis of the trading relations between the empire and Nelshan.

Siyeon kept the orb that she had bought from Jamus in the lowest drawer of her desk. She took it out now, rolling it over in her hands. It was cool and sturdy, like smooth glass under her fingers. She had already stolen a strand of Penelope’s hair just in case, though a large part of her was not expecting it to even work because it was more likely a sham than not.

There was no way to tell if it was true or a hoax without testing it out for herself, so she could only pray that when she needed to activate its power it wouldn’t fail her. She placed it back inside her drawer and opened up the quest log.

Ping!

◇ System ◇

QUEST LOG

Ongoing:

-

Upcoming:

Event quest

Special mission

Hidden event ??>

Advance to discover more quests!

Siyeon groaned, rubbing her temples. Her suspicion was right. Both of the named quests were events she had never encountered in the game before. It seemed that the game was diverging from the plot that Siyeon knew, a development that would erode her credibility as a prophet.

She had hoped to use her knowledge of the game to solidify her status, but really nothing was going her way. Lying down on her bed, she pressed her forehead into her pillow. Her head was pounding, her stomach was hurting again, likely from the stress of not eating – try maintaining your appetite when the whole world seemed like your enemy – and she just wanted to curl into a ball and sleep.

Although… Siyeon frowned. Did the quest log mention a special mission? Not a side mission? Before she could verify it, someone knocked on the door. Siyeon suppressed a groan and sat up.

“Come in.”

Hannah entered, bowing. “Lady Siyeon, His Grace has asked you to attend today’s lunch as well.”

What is that old man playing at? Is he treating me well because his daughter favors me? When has he ever treated her like his real daughter anyway? He’s no better than my – No, stop. This isn’t my story…

“My lady?”

“Yes, I will attend.”

She didn’t have a choice anyway, not when the duke himself had called for her presence. How did Penelope withstand meals every day knowing she was going to get harassed by the servants? Thinking of their insolence made her vibrate with rage. She moved to get ready, and then paused when her eyes landed on some writing paper.

Hmm… Would that work? It’s a little forced, but I can’t sit back and do nothing…

Half an hour later, Siyeon made her way to the dining hall. She had timed her arrival so it would coincide with the duke’s. Indeed, he was a few paces ahead of her as she rounded the corner.

“Your Grace!” Duke Eckhart turned as she greeted him. “Thank you for inviting me to lunch.”

He coughed lightly. “It was nothing… You are an esteemed guest of our duchy and publicly Penelope’s lady-in-waiting.”

Abruptly, Siyeon realized the similarity of her and Penelope’s predicament: both were sitting ducks getting by each day fearing that they would get kicked out by the duchy. In Siyeon’s case, her expulsion would likely be followed by an execution if they ever realized she was a phony prophet.

“I have something for you. Would you take this letter?”

“A letter?” The duke accepted it despite his obvious puzzlement.

“Yes.” Siyeon provided no other explanation, and as she anticipated, the duke was too well-mannered to open it in front of her. If it were his sons, though… Reynold would have chucked the letter back at her and Derrick would not even have deigned it a passing glance.

They entered the dining hall together. Everyone else was already there. Derrick’s gaze narrowed when he saw her behind his father.

Oh, joy. Is he going to think I’m seducing his father?

Thankfully, the meal proceeded without a hitch. Siyeon’s keen gaze noted that the quietly sniggering maid had once again provided toy cutlery for Penelope, who made no move to expose the mistreatment. A boiling, rising fury simmered beneath Siyeon’s skin. For a second she wished the game’s notorious villainess would flip the table over and unleash her anger even at the hefty price of a dead end. Then Siyeon shook her head. What was she thinking?

“After visiting the imperial palace, I can safely say that the Eckhart estate is not lacking in any way. Your Grace certainly has impeccable taste,” Siyeon said admiringly, naturally starting a conversation. She ignored Derrick’s glower.

Yeah, he could think of her whatever he wanted. See if she gave a rat’s ass about it.

“You overstate my involvement. I hired a team of architects and decorators to oversee the whole process.”

“Nevertheless, a tree is only as strong as its roots. This house could only stand in its splendor because of the spirit of its master. Even this dining hall exudes an unordinary aura.”

Duke Eckhart chuckled while Reynold shifted in his seat, looking bored of the conversation. Penelope was engaging in a losing battle with her steak, her weapon of choice being a blunt knife and a bending fork. She chased the meat around on her plate, lips pursed in annoyance.

“Unordinary aura? Of what sort?”

“These silverware… They must be quite rare, no?”

“You have a fine eye. Each piece of the set was handcrafted by a master cutler.”

“They must have cost a fortune.”

“They were given as a gift. My father sponsored the cutler in his youth.”

Scrape.

The steak flew off Penelope’s plate and landed on Derrick’s face. Gravity made it slide down, leaving behind a trail of dark sauce on his cheek. The ensuing silence was broken by Reynold’s raucous laughter. Wordlessly, Derrick took out a handkerchief to wipe his face. His glacial eyes, though, spelled out every inch of his ire.

“You… You did it on purpose, right?” Reynold hollered, slapping his knees.

“I didn’t!” Penelope denied, shaking her head. “I really didn’t!” She sounded desperate now.

Derrick threw his handkerchief onto the ground. His affection score was flickering wildly. “You have the guts to humiliate me, but not to own up to it.”

Duke Eckhart sighed. “Penelope, that was a bit too far. Apologize to your brother.”

“But that was – I didn’t –”

“Your Grace?” Siyeon spoke over Penelope. “Might I request you to open the letter?”

The duke blinked. “In this kind of situation?” His tone was incredulous.

“Yes. I humbly insist.”

“Father, what letter?” Reynold asked, the only one unaffected by the tension in the room. His inability to read the room was incredible in itself. In that regard he was quite similar to Penelope.

Duke Eckhart had already opened the letter and was reading it. It was short, so he finished in no time.

“… What is the meaning of this, Siyeon?”

She smiled without true humor. “Everything is exactly as I have written. Please arrest the maid Dona.”

“W-what?” Dona, who had been standing at the side and waiting to serve the next dish, jumped in surprise. “I didn’t do anything wrong!”

“Anything wrong… Let’s see. Right.” Siyeon snapped her fingers. “How about the crime of theft?”

“You’re lying! I didn’t steal anything! Your Grace, it’s true, I have always been loyal –”

Siyeon tilted her head. “That’s strange. How do you explain the disparity between Lady Penelope’s cutlery and the lords of the house?”

“… What?” The duke’s gaze shifted to Penelope’s side of the table. His eyes flared with shock. “What… What is…” He seemed at a loss for words.

“My visions showed me that Lady Penelope always eats with such subpar utensils. ‘It can’t be that the Eckhart Duchy is so hard on money that they are scrimping on these. Ah. That means someone from the duchy must be embezzling and selling them.’ That was the conclusion I drew.”

Reynold and Derrick’s eyes were trembling as they beheld Penelope, who was gripping her skirt tightly to hold the tremor in her hands.

Don’t be afraid. Why are you afraid? Hold your head high like you always do.

But Siyeon couldn’t say those words. Instead, she lifted the corners of her mouth into a terrifying grin.

“Still, I thought my visions must be wrong. Surely, I thought, that your lordships couldn’t have failed to notice for years that Lady Penelope was using toy utensils? That she was struggling with something as basic, as essential as eating? Such a transgression must have been a recent affair, and not, say, something that has been left unchecked… for years?”

She let her smile drop. Let coldness bleed into her eyes. For the villainess of creation who had cried and begged and feared until the very end. For the girl living in loneliness who didn’t even cherish her own value.

“Surely, it can’t be a purposeful and wilful isolation of the only princess of Eorka?”