Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The explosion hit before anyone understood what was happening.
One second, laughter,calculated business, gossip, lavish food, fine wine and tea.
The next, fire, dust, and screaming.

The tea tables were gone. Chairs scattered like paper. The smell—metal, smoke, blood—hit first.

Bodies everywhere. Some still moving, some not. Someone’s hand under a chair, someone’s dress torn open. There are torn body parts everywhere. Some unfortunate ladies even tore into half.You couldn’t tell who was who anymore. It was such a bloody mess.

And among this bloody mess was our dear villainess.Penelope was on the ground near the corner, half covered in dirt and broken glass. Her right arm and leg were bruised and bleeding, her head hit the rock when she fell. Blood spread fast under her hair, soaking into the soil until it looked like she was lying in it.She was in a pool of her own blood and God it hurts like hell.

People were shouting for help, running around, crying names that didn’t answer back.But she could hardly stay conscious until her eyes closed thinking this might be how she dies.GOD DAMN IT !!!!!

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Reynold had been nearby. He only wanted to check if she used the balm he gave her yesterday. That stubborn idiot had hurt herself while shooting those magical creatures but didn't even realize! So stupid! But what was more stupid is he was still worried if the wound was healing or not and whether that idiot put the balm on her neck again. He was sure she didn't.That stupid thought stuck in his head so he grudgingly came to check up on her even though it was a ladies tea party.

He was almost there.Then the sound reached him. The kind that freezes your chest.

He ran before thinking. The closer he got, the worse it looked. Piles of bodies, red everywhere, cups and limbs and silk all mixed together. He’d never seen something like this. He didn’t even know where to look.

His eyes searched anyway. As the second son of duke Eckart, he never really had a hard life. He could do whatever he wanted since he wasn't the heir either. He fought and practiced swords with other knights but he was never in a bloodshed situation. So seeing people torn in half, bloody corpses, cries of help, screaming of pain was another level of gore for him. He never saw this kind of horror. He even stepped up on a hand that might have come flying from an unfortunate noble ladies/corpse. He was trying his best not to throw up. He wanted to stop but couldn't because his idiot sister was here. HIS stubborn sister who supposedly forgot to apply the healing balm today. He was choking from his own tears.

And then he saw the pants. The ones only she would wear here. And to what? To catch prey ofc. Aside from his spitfire sister no noble lady would wear pants like men in the tea party.

He stopped breathing. His legs went weak, but he still moved toward her.

Her face was pale, blood on her hair, dirt on her cheek. He dropped down beside her, hands shaking. He didn’t know where to touch. If he moved her wrong—if she stopped breathing—

The noise around him was gone. Only her and the blood.
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On the other side the guards came, shouting for people to stay back.The guards blocked all the people from entering.

Duke Eckart arrived not long after, pushing through the panic. “My daughter is in there!” His voice didn’t sound like his own. The cool composed noble duke sounded so raw of emotions.Even his ever perfect eldest son, the duke's heir's face was not the usual cold, emotional face either.Derrick followed behind, pale, frozen, unable to do anything but stare. The guards tried to hold them back—“Your Grace, please—”
“Move! Penelope!”

Even the nobles outside were panicking, crying, trying to see who survived.

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Reynold was still there when another voice cut through everything.
“Damn it.Move!”

The crown prince pushed through the guards, eyes wide when he saw her. No hesitation. He went straight to her, lifted her up in a strecher he brought with a guard’s help. Blood stained his uniform, but he didn’t care.

“Fuck!Get the doctors—now!”

They carried her away fast. Reynold couldn’t follow. He just stared at the trail of blood left behind, not knowing if she’d wake up again.

Chapter Text

The explosion had happened in the morning, close to nine. Now, it was already past three in the afternoon. After hours of chaos and confusion, the royal guards finally managed to regain control. Reports were sent out to every noble family, informing them whether their loved ones were alive—or gone.

As the only Duke of the Empire, Dietrich Eckart was among the first to be briefed. The captain of the royal guard approached him with grim eyes.
“Your Grace… the princess of House Eckart was found alive. She sustained a grave head injury, and several mild ones on her legs and hands. A few bones were broken, but—” the man hesitated, “—thankfully, she survived.”

For a long moment, the Duke said nothing. Relief flickered across his composed face, but it was buried quickly under worry. His next words came out sharp, strained.
“And my son? Reynold Eckart?”

The captain looked down. “We… haven’t located him yet, Your Grace.”

Both the Duke and Derrick froze. A cold dread spread between them. Derrick’s heart pounded in his ears as his gaze swept the wrecked grounds—until he saw a familiar figure being supported by one of their knights.

“Reynold!” he shouted, already running toward him.

Reynold’s face was pale, his clothes soaked in blood—not all of it his own. His hands were trembling uncontrollably. When Derrick reached him, he grabbed his shoulders, voice shaking.
“Are you hurt? Can you stand?”

The Duke arrived a moment later, his usual stoic mask slipping at the sight. He scanned Reynold quickly, relief mixing with horror. “He’s covered in blood…”

“He’s alive,” Derrick said quickly, though his own voice broke.

The Duke exhaled, turning to the knight. “Take the young master to the Eckart tent. Let him rest and change.”

But before they could lead him away, Reynold suddenly stumbled forward, clutching Derrick’s sleeve. His voice cracked, raw with anguish.

“Penelope—! Penelope, where is she?!”

And just like that, the composure Derrick had been holding shattered too.