Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

She lost track of the loops. The only thing that stayed the same was that each ended in a death too early. 

There was nowhere she could go where the Leila wouldn't be able to find her.

Penelope tried everything. It was hopeless, nothing worked. She couldn't rely on anyone—she was utterly alone.

Until she wasn't. 

She was no stranger to hallucinations. Endless time loops didn't tend to keep you sane, after all.

M̶̭͍̬̲̀y̸͎̖̓̌̐̓̌͘͝ ̸̧̡̟̩̱̬̠͂̈̾h̸̢̜̖͍͋e̶̖̺̣̜͓̋̅̾̈́̃͠a̵̩̙̞̓r̵̡̛̹̯̝̞̭̜̈́͒̅͑͌̍t̴̛̪̻̰̫̏͂̉̕ ̵̨͇͔͈̇i̶̫̜̯̥̻̗͋̉̊̑́̑̊ş̵̝̰̗̈́̔̽͠ͅ ̵̧̝͍̙̐̂b̸̨̖͉͈̪͕͝r̸̳̞̗̅̍̑͂ͅe̴̖̥̜̍̒̔̍ả̵͔̊̽̉̕̚͝k̵̙̙̟̅͊̂̈́͌͗͊i̶̛̜̮̝̪̖̊̓̅̈ͅn̶̢̖̯̈́g̸̻̜̰̬̠̲̑,̵̂ a bodiless voice wailed.

"Shut up," she snapped, but it would not. It never did. It made her want to break something.

Her remark earned her a glare from those sitting with her.

R̷̭̒ẹ̷̟͐̊t̴̙̙̻͕̬͌u̸͙̦̮̬̙̓̕r̵̻̺̘͛̀̄n̵͔̂̒̊̈́̿,̷̰͓̫̔̊̎͠ ̷̢̱̜̤̒̓̎͗c̸̲͇͛̔͜h̴̝̅͌̏͆ȋ̷̺̱̖̫l̵̥̤̟͙̯̀̽̀͐͝d̷̺̖͇̝̐͆̒̎͝.̶̨̛͖͕̕

Fuck off.

The ghostly apparition of Ivonne Eckhart was a new one to her collection, though.

When their eyes met for the first time, the hallucination's face twisted in shock and came flying towards Penelope.

"You can see me! You can see me, right? You can, you have to, no one else has ever looked at me so clearly before!" the spectral (Ivonne?) cried. 

Her delusions were never this… vibrant, usually. She flicked her fork at the image.

It passed straight through it and clattered to the floor. 

Yup, still just a fabrication of my head.

"Sister?" the Leila said, tilting her head innocently. "Is something wrong?" 

The Eckhart men sent her looks of varying distaste. 

She tore her eyes away from the spectral. "Yeah, the food's shit. I'm going to my room," she announced, not caring about the duke or his sons.

Everything would restart anyway.

She almost jumped when a head of pink hair popped through the wall. 

"Um, excuse me? Ah—wait, don't ignore me!"

Penelope ignored it.

"If I could have a moment of your time—"

Maybe she would keep her maid for longer this time around. Having an errand girl was convenient. 

"LISTEN TO ME!" the spectral, ghost, hallucination—whatever it was—shouted. "I'm the real Ivonne Eckhart! My body was taken over by the Leila. I need your help." 

"I'm still sane enough to know that I'm not sane," she responded dryly. Anything to make this thing go away. It was loud.

"You're stuck in the time loop as well, aren't you? So am I." 

Penelope blinked. Maybe I'll humor it. 

"Give me all the dirt you have on those son of a bitches, and maybe I'll consider your existence as something other than the product of my own mind."

"Deal."

So while Penelope was still not convinced that this Ivonne (she used the name tentatively) wasn't a hallucination, the look on the first son's face when she brought up the egg tart incident was some pretty damning evidence. 

"Sister, would you like to join me for tea?" the Leila said sweetly. They were just in the line of sight of the duke's office window.

Sly bitch.

"SiStEr, wOuLd YoU likE to JoIn mE fOr tEa?" Ivonne mocked.

Penelope decided then and there that she would keep her.

The real Ivonne wasn't as nearly as unpleasant as her counterpart, but extremely talkative.

"What's your favorite color? Or your favorite dessert? The dark chocolate pastries were my favorite back then," the spectral chattered.

Penelope couldn't tell which was worse. She sighed a long internal sigh.

"Dark purple, melon sorbet," she answered blankly. She had learned quickly that trying to ignore the spectral did absolutely nothing.

"Really? I never particularly enjoyed cold things because they make my head hurt. But the iced fruit drinks were a delight during the summer..."

Well, at least she wasn't actively trying to kill Penelope. 

"Also," Ivonne paused in the middle of her rant about how adorable bunnies were, "are we going to Winter anytime?"

"Why," Penelope groaned as she rubbed her temples.

Ivonne blinked and then looked at her in a nervous way for some reason. "Oh, you don't..."

She frowned. "What?"

"Winter... Winter is the one who's been turning back time."

There was a thud as Penelope dropped the dagger she'd been twirling in her hands.

"He's been doing what?"

Penelope stormed into the Verdandi estate, at least ten Eckhart guards clinging onto her to try to hold her back, fueled by pure rage. 

She went from room to room, ripping doors off of hinges until found him, outside of his studies, wielding a staff.

"You," she uttered before sending a wall of vines at him.

A thick block of ice burst from the floor to shield him. 

Penelope shot a wind spell, shattering the ice.

Dodging the frozen projectiles, Winter sent a blast of magic, not at her but the chandelier above.

She threw her hands up to create a barrier, and the crystals and candles shattered into a million little pieces.

But that was all a bait as Winter took advantage of her moment of distraction to hit her with a second blast, sending her crashing.

She gasped as something sharp pierced her back and then through her chest. She had impaled herself on one of the bigger pieces of Winter's ice barrier.

Somewhere, she heard Ivonne scream. 

Penelope glared balefully at Winter, blood dripping down her mouth as it had countless other loops. With the last seconds she had, she called upon a spell and her magic answered. 

Blood turned to fire, spilling from her lips as she turned her wrath upon the entire mansion, intent on bringing the white haired wizard down with her this time as well.

M̶̭͍̬̲̀y̸͎̖̓̌̐̓̌͘͝ ̸̧̡̟̩̱̬̠͂̈̾h̸̢̜̖͍͋e̶̖̺̣̜͓̋̅̾̈́̃͠a̵̩̙̞̓r̵̡̛̹̯̝̞̭̜̈́͒̅͑͌̍t̴̛̪̻̰̫̏͂̉̕ ̵̨͇͔͈̇i̶̫̜̯̥̻̗͋̉̊̑́̑̊ş̵̝̰̗̈́̔̽͠ͅ ̵̧̝͍̙̐̂b̸̨̖͉͈̪͕͝r̸̳̞̗̅̍̑͂ͅe̴̖̥̜̍̒̔̍ả̵͔̊̽̉̕̚͝k̵̙̙̟̅͊̂̈́͌͗͊i̶̛̜̮̝̪̖̊̓̅̈ͅn̶̢̖̯̈́g̸̻̜̰̬̠̲̑.

Penelope woke up in her bed and screeched with fury.

M̶̭͍̬̲̀y̸͎̖̓̌̐̓̌͘͝ ̸̧̡̟̩̱̬̠͂̈̾h̸̢̜̖͍͋e̶̖̺̣̜͓̋̅̾̈́̃͠a̵̩̙̞̓r̵̡̛̹̯̝̞̭̜̈́͒̅͑͌̍t̴̛̪̻̰̫̏͂̉̕ ̵̨͇͔͈̇i̶̫̜̯̥̻̗͋̉̊̑́̑̊ş̵̝̰̗̈́̔̽͠ͅ ̵̧̝͍̙̐̂b̸̨̖͉͈̪͕͝r̸̳̞̗̅̍̑͂ͅe̴̖̥̜̍̒̔̍ả̵͔̊̽̉̕̚͝k̵̙̙̟̅͊̂̈́͌͗͊i̶̛̜̮̝̪̖̊̓̅̈ͅn̶̢̖̯̈́g̸̻̜̰̬̠̲̑.

She stormed into the Verdandi estate, cutting off the arms of the Eckhart guards who tried to stop her.

She went straight to the room where Winter was waiting for her. She pinned him down with her bloody eyes before launching an onslaught of blazing thorns of fire.

Fire met ice, and steam exploded from were they met, filling the hall and effectively acting as a smoke bomb as she dashed around him, summoning more thorns and wrapped them around the man.

Winter had just enough time for his eyes to widen with realization before she slammed him onto the floor, then the walls, and the ceiling, before dropping him.

She approached him at a leisure pace, and dragged his head up by his stupid,  fucking white hair.

"What," he gasped as his ugly mug began to swell, "do you want?"  

Penelope regarded him coldly. "For you to choke and die."

From the corner of her eye, she saw Ivonne lingering where the doors used to be with a tense look on her face, as if she were a child listening to her parents argue.

"But I suppose you might have other uses."

And that was how Penelope was in this situation, two loops later, casting a high risk spell on the Leila with Winter, the Eckhart men screaming and trying to break down the magical barrier that was keeping them back.

Damn Reynold and his nosy ass that can't keep out of my business.  

"You fucking bitch, get the hell away from Ivonne!" Reynold Eckhart roared furiously.

But Penelope couldn't hear them, too busy with flooding her opposing magic energy into Ivonne's body to drive the Leila out. 

It wasn't a pretty scene. The Leila screeched and clawed at Penelope's hands, clearly in pain. Winter's magic kept it from transforming, and Penelope could feel herself pushing the Leila out.

This was the difficult part though. The moment Ivonne's body was separated from the Leila, it would start to rot at an unnatural rate.

That was what happened in the last loop. 

Without the Leila's power that kept it alive, it was just a corpse. To prevent this, there had to be a short period of time where both souls would occupy the same body.

Ivonne was ready this time, and dived into her body once Penelope gave the signal.

"Hurry!" Winter shouted. "The barrier won’t last!"

"Make it last, you stupid man!"

The souls came into contact, just for a second, before she tossed the Leila out.

Ivonne crumpled, unmoving for a moment. 

Then, there was a scream. "Watch out!"

Penelope barely had time to register the warning before cold metal pierced her chest. She was too used to it to cry out, but Winter and Ivonne did.

"NO!" The sound Ivonne made should've broken glass and shattered eardrums. 

Her warm hands grabbed for Penelope's falling body before she died. Again.

Penelope woke up in her room, with the spectral hovering over her.

"I'm sorry," she sobbed. "Penelope, I'm so sorry." 

Penelope couldn't bear to look at her, so she squeezed her eyes shut and looked away. 

M̶̭͍̬̲̀y̸͎̖̓̌̐̓̌͘͝ ̸̧̡̟̩̱̬̠͂̈̾h̸̢̜̖͍͋e̶̖̺̣̜͓̋̅̾̈́̃͠a̵̩̙̞̓r̵̡̛̹̯̝̞̭̜̈́͒̅͑͌̍t̴̛̪̻̰̫̏͂̉̕ ̵̨͇͔͈̇i̶̫̜̯̥̻̗͋̉̊̑́̑̊ş̵̝̰̗̈́̔̽͠ͅ ̵̧̝͍̙̐̂b̸̨̖͉͈̪͕͝r̸̳̞̗̅̍̑͂ͅe̴̖̥̜̍̒̔̍ả̵͔̊̽̉̕̚͝k̵̙̙̟̅͊̂̈́͌͗͊i̶̛̜̮̝̪̖̊̓̅̈ͅn̶̢̖̯̈́g̸̻̜̰̬̠̲̑, the broken record voice that follwed her through every loop played.

"Shut up," she snapped through gritted teeth. "Just shut up." 

She was so tired.

M̶̭͍̬̲̀y̸͎̖̓̌̐̓̌͘͝ ̸̧̡̟̩̱̬̠͂̈̾h̸̢̜̖͍͋e̶̖̺̣̜͓̋̅̾̈́̃͠a̵̩̙̞̓r̵̡̛̹̯̝̞̭̜̈́͒̅͑͌̍t̴̛̪̻̰̫̏͂̉̕ ̵̨͇͔͈̇i̶̫̜̯̥̻̗͋̉̊̑́̑̊ş̵̝̰̗̈́̔̽͠ͅ ̵̧̝͍̙̐̂b̸̨̖͉͈̪͕͝r̸̳̞̗̅̍̑͂ͅe̴̖̥̜̍̒̔̍ả̵͔̊̽̉̕̚͝k̵̙̙̟̅͊̂̈́͌͗͊i̶̛̜̮̝̪̖̊̓̅̈ͅn̶̢̖̯̈́g̸̻̜̰̬̠̲̑.

C̴̡̫̼̣̯̜̪̓̆͠ȯ̵̢̖͉͇̺͐͝m̷̘̪̰̳̩̉̓̊͋ë̶͉́͂͗̀̽̉̕͜ ̴̢̬̟̝͕̇̂̈́͊͂̑͠ẖ̸͔͎̻̯̻̽̔̋̚͜o̵̧̬̝̦̼̰͋͑͠m̶͉̩̥̳͐é̸̡̛̛͖̱͕̬͓̝̈́̈.̸̨̨̟̞̇̀̈́̈́̉̇͠

I don't have a home, she thought back before falling asleep to the sound of ocean waves crashing onto shore.

Chapter Text

"I finally met them for the first time," Ivonne admitted days after the restart, when Penelope could bear to look at her again. "I'm sorry." 

She frowned, not understanding the apology. "Why?"

“‘S felt like it. Like," Ivonne gestured around, "I blamed you for the longest time, y’know."

So did I.

"I blamed you for being the girl who took my place and stole my life." Her hands balled into fists. "Because I felt too helpless to blame the Leila. I turned my anger on you because it seemed easier than facing my fears."

She straighten. Her eyes were full of true remorse and sincerity. "I'm sorry, Penelope."

Penelope could've responded with something snarky, like, now if you could only convince your brothers to do the same.

She could've.

"I forgive you."

"What did you say to them?"

A scoff. "I didn’t. I just hit them." 

Penelope laughed for the first time in a long time. "Yeah, I'm keeping you." 

The exorcism plan was on hold.

"Ivonne," Penelope quietly addressed after some time of drawing on the dirt with a stick. They were in the forest, away from the cruel eyes of the duchy.

"Yes?" 

"I'm going to live my best lives."

Ivonne blinked. "Of course," she agreed. 

"I'm going to spend the loops doing whatever the hell I want. Dancing, art, music, swordsmanship. I'll pick the one that I like most, maybe all, and pursue that once I kill the Leila in the final loop."

The spectral nodded. "Okay. What first?"

Cutting and dyeing her hair. That was first.

Ivonne made her despair known. “But your hair is so pretty, like a rose. Hiding its color is such a shame,” she had cried. 

But they both knew the necessity of it.

Penelope checked her reflection once before shearing off more than two thirds of her hair. Her curls, no longer weighing down much and much more bouncier, barely reached her neck now.

Ivonne gasped. She didn't know that the woman would cut off that much. Penelope headed over to her closet and started packing her clothes.

"You aren't taking your allowance?" 

"I'm taking everything.” She grabbed a dark dress off the hanger before wincing hard and dropping it. "FU—!” she bit down on her tongue.

"Penelope?" Ivonne said in alarm and rushed over. 

“It’s nothing, I just forgot,” she dismissed, carefully hiding her arms.

"Penelope..."

“Forget it.”

Ivonne remembered Emily, barely. The maid had been a year or two older than her when the Leila took her. She had been kind. 

Ivonne couldn’t understand how a person could speak so kindly of her, and then turn around and stab another with a needle. Were they always like that, or did Ivonne’s disappearance twist them so?

Forget it, Penelope had said. Easier said than done.

They left quietly in the cover of night, during the time when the guards would begin to grow tired and lax.

Penelope was nervous, but mostly excited. Before now, she'd only ever left the duchy for survival, and she still was, in a way, but this time was different. This time, she was going to have the best freaking time of her life(s).

Her heart thumped loudly in her ears as she climbed over her balcony railing. She jumped.

The air solidified under her feet. Penelope spread out her arms to balance herself. It was like going down a flight of invisible stairs.

She was so close to reaching down unnoticed until luck decided that was enough for her tonight.

"It’s Reynold!" Ivonne whisper-yelled. 

Up above, the doors to Reynold's room opened and he dashed out to his balcony. He stared down at Penelope with disbelieving eyes and she stared right back with a deadpan.

"What are you doing!" he screamed, leaning over the railing dangerously.

"Leaving," she replied simply, and continued to jump down without breaking eye contact.

At least he isn't Derrick.

Once she reached the ground, she made a run for it. Reynold finally snapped out of his shock and yelled for the guards.

Penelope didn't stop running until she reached the walls, which she vaulted herself over with vines of thorns, catching a few looks of bewilderment from the guards stationed there, and kept running.

The duchy stirred awake, and it wouldn’t be long before they started chasing after her.

But it wouldn’t come to that. She pulled out the teleportation scroll she had stuffed in her bag and tore it in two.

Light engulfed her, and the woman disappeared.

The town of Chorévei sat far outside Eorka. It was a town with the art of dance running through their blood.

They had welcomed Penelope with open arms when she came and asked to learn. She lived there for two years, learning the many ways of dance.

Their music was unlike the pianos and violins played in the background of the many aristocratic parties Penelope had attended. 

It was the clapping and singing of the townsfolk, the beats of lively percussion. The music was alive.

Chorévei was alive.

Penelope thrived like she never had before. 

“It’s the Arachne Festival, c’mon Penny!” the children called as they pulled her into the circle of dancers. “Do whatever you want, just keep moving in the same direction.”

Penelope, like everyone, was adorned with golden accessories that resembled spiders and tapestry needles. 

The gods turned Arachne into a spider for her arrogance, the legend went. 

“Yeah, but she made some really nice tapestries for us, so we celebrate her every year,” the fisherman said before shrugging. “Love ya, Arachne,” he said to the sky.

“That is valid,” Ivonne said.

Penelope twirled around, linking arms with several beautiful women. Ivonne laughed as they all sighed wistfully when Penelope slipped away again into the sea of other people, blowing her kisses.

Time seemed to slow as she made a turn, and their eyes met. Penelope made a mischievous face and winked.

That was not fair.

Taken off guard, Ivonne sputtered and whined, “Penelope, that was illegal!” 

“Call me Penny!” the woman cackled back.

Chapter Text

For the first time in Penelope's many repeated existences, she was having a good time. But of course, all good things must come to an end.

Because how dare she remove herself from the abusive environment that she was oh so kindly thrusted in. 

Gasp, the audacity!

Her face was locked in a displeased expression, practically biting down her tongue to not spew venomous words at the person grabbing her arm as if it were his own.

"Eckhart," she said flatly.

The nuisance had been on Penelope's tail for a while it seemed. She had lingered in Chorévei for too long.

I don't want to get the townsfolk involved in this. Should I just kill him?

"Are you done with your tantrum yet?" Derrick sneered, breaking Penelope out of her murderous thoughts. "Two years is a long time to be gone. Do you know how much trouble the Eckharts already go through because of you? Our reputation is a mess."

Not missing a beat, she snapped back, "Sounds like a personal problem."

She didn't even look at him, turquoise eyes studying the many trinkets on her free arm. Her spectral companion wheezed.

His eyes darkened. "What."

"Fuck you, is what I said. I have nothing to do with the Eckharts."

Ivonne clapped her hands solemnly in agreement.

Derrick's grip tightened and began to drag Penelope with him. "It seems that being away from the dukedom has made you even more despicable."

Penelope grounded her feet and didn't budge. He frowned.

"Let go of Penny!" Ivonne shouted, furious.

Be subtle, Penelope told herself, and with a flick of her fingers and a bored expression, the needle-like accessories hanging from her ears shot to life.

They broke away from her earring clasps and stabbed Derrick's hands. He gasped, but she kicked him unconscious before he could do more and spat on him for good measure.

"That was cool."

Penelope's face went from frowning to trying hard not to smile. She did allow herself to puff up her chest proudly though.

"It was nothing."

"No, no! Really!" the spectral said. "Your magic has already grown to the point where you don't need a wand! Even Winter won't be able to catch up now—"

"Hello, sister."

A cold, slithering hand came up from behind her and touched her cheek.

Penelope went still. "Leila," she growled.

The monster smiled. "Now, now," she said, putting her other hand over Penelope’s as a warning. "This is quite the lovely town, isn’t it? It'd be such a shame if it was wiped out."

Penelope grabbed her hand and dug her nails into it. "Do it," she dared. "None of this is permanent. My deaths," a smirk, "your victories. Nothing."

The amusement slipped off the Leila's face and she made her displeasure known by suddenly stabbing Penelope's thigh with a dagger she kept hidden somewhere.

She bared her teeth but did not cry out, much to the Leila's disappointment.

Ivonne made a swipe at her, but her incorporeal fist just passed through withiut damage.

"Penny," she hissed.

I know.

"Why are the Eckharts still hounding me? I thought your stupid charm magic was irresistible."

The Leila hummed. "They’ve always been a possessive people, remember? They don't want you because they worry or miss you, they want you because you are their doll."

And wasn't that the truth, however much it made her sick to agree.

The monster sighed. "I hardly have the time to charm them when they're so frantic about you. Oh, well. Better luck next time."

Yes. Better luck next time.

Penelope smashed her elbow into the monster's nose and ripped the dagger out of her thigh.

The Leila dropped her like a fly and Penelope slit her own throat. It was better to just die than to have sick hobbies, such as torture, be practiced on her.

"I hate you," the imposter snarled, bleeding from her broken nose.

Choke on it.

M̶̭͍̬̲̀y̸͎̖̓̌̐̓̌͘͝ ̸̧̡̟̩̱̬̠͂̈̾h̸̢̜̖͍͋e̶̖̺̣̜͓̋̅̾̈́̃͠a̵̩̙̞̓r̵̡̛̹̯̝̞̭̜̈́͒̅͑͌̍t̴̛̪̻̰̫̏͂̉̕ ̵̨͇͔͈̇i̶̫̜̯̥̻̗͋̉̊̑́̑̊ş̵̝̰̗̈́̔̽͠ͅ ̵̧̝͍̙̐̂b̸̨̖͉͈̪͕͝r̸̳̞̗̅̍̑͂ͅe̴̖̥̜̍̒̔̍ả̵͔̊̽̉̕̚͝k̵̙̙̟̅͊̂̈́͌͗͊i̶̛̜̮̝̪̖̊̓̅̈ͅn̶̢̖̯̈́g̸̻̜̰̬̠̲̑.

The time loops were because of Winter Verdandi. 

More specifically, because he realized his fatal mistake with the Leila too late. That wizard had some serious trust issues, and yet always trusted the wrong person. 

But what pissed her off the most was that Penelope was the one who remembered. Every. God. Damn. Loop.

If you're going to turn back time, shouldn't you make yourself the one who remembers it?

And then there were the Eckharts. Penelope couldn't care less about them, and the only reason she ever even thought about them was because they were Ivonne's family.

The duke made it his life goal to be as indifferent as possible, Reynold was only bearable when he kept his trap shut, and Derrick was a creep.

Penelope glanced over to the observing spectral. It was a miracle that such a sweet and cute girl came such a dysfunctional family.

Iklies, on the other hand, had straight up terrified Penelope at one point. It was a testament to how far her mental fortitude had come to merely see him as a minor inconvenience now.

As for Callisto Regulus... She had mixed feelings about him. It was without a doubt that she had been killed by him the most, yet every time she met him before the Leila, she actually found herself, albeit reluctantly, getting along with him. 

And wasn't like she hadn't ever killed him either. She probably gave back as just as much. But he was good with the sword and that was what mattered most.

"I want to learn sword stuff, let me be an imperial knight," Penelope said.

The prince looked around the garden maze, studying the dead bodies of at least five assassins, all impaled through the head with giant thorns.

"Weren't you declared missing?"

"Maybe. But if you think about it, does that really matter?"

"I guess not."

Unbeknownst to the prince, a pink haired spectral slapped a hand over her face in exasperation.

"Penelope! Your arms have stopped, has your training been too easy on you?" Callisto barked from the other side of the training grounds.

Do it for Ivonne, she thought to draw out the patience to not toss the prince off a cliff.

Serving under an imperial family member made her untouchable even to the Eckharts (when they would inevitably find her), and she wasn't just a knight in name either.

Her hair whipped about as she swung her sword up to clash against Callisto’s. 

Three months into training and she was already shaping up to be an absolute menace in sharp, pointy things. Which was why the bloodthirsty maniac loved to pick fights with her.

"Your reaction was a little slow there!" he cackled.

Penelope didn't even bother rolling her eyes. She twisted her sword and threw him off. "Do you actually have anything important to say, or do you just enjoy getting hurt?"

The bastard laughed as he plopped himself down on the grass. "Sit with me," he beckoned.

Penelope narrowed her eyes and threw her blade at him like a spear. He dodged it easily.

"Ooh, I think you got some of his hair," Ivonne said.

"No thanks, I prefer looking down on people."

Callisto ignored her insult and pulled Penelope down anyway.

"Asshole," she hissed.

"What?" the prince said mockingly. "The noble lady can't stand sitting on the ground?"

Ivonne stiffened. Oh no.

"The imperial knight can't stand you," Penelope snapped viciously all of a sudden. "Do not call me a noble."

You have no idea. I was taken and stuffed into a role that had me scorned and condemned for being too much and not enough. 

I did not swallow poison and escape fire for you to call me a noble.

Taken aback by the look in her eyes and the severity of her tone, Callisto nodded slowly. 

"Alright. I won't," he said simply, not prodding any further. 

Ah, there it was. The reason why Penelope couldn't bring herself to feel as nearly as indifferent to him as she should.

Callisto was paranoid, and his trust was a pain in the ass to earn, but it never wavered. But there was only so much that Penelope could trust, she used even that term skeptically.

Ivonne closed her spectral hand around Penelope's in an imitation of hand holding, looking as solemn as she felt.

"Good."

Chapter Text

A prince and a wizard walked briskly through the halls.

Well, Callisto walked. Penelope glided through the air, because what was the point of having magic if one did not take every opportunity to be extravagant?

When there was no one around, Callisto finally spoke in a hushed tone, "The hag is starting to send assassins after you, too."

Penelope stopped picking at her nails for a moment. "And does she actually expect it to work?"

She's failed to get me to join her side, so she wants me gone.

Callisto stopped suddenly, causing Penelope to nearly crash into him, and stared at her.

"What the hell was that for?" she said angrily.

He didn't say anything and just kept looking at her with an unreadable expression. Penelope was just about to leave when he said blandly, "Don't force yourself."

She blinked to register those words before snapping, "What."

Callisto, with that irritating face of his, arched a brow. "I said, don't force yourself."

"Stop talking in riddles, and just say it." Penelope hated beating around the bush.

"I can't imagine any sane person that would want assassins after them constantly. I'm telling you that it's okay if you don't stay around me anymore."

"No sane person would volunteer to work for you, but here I am."

His face twisted into a frown. "Would you take this seriously?"

Penelope shrugged. "I'm not sticking around because of some loyalty I feel towards you. If it ever comes down to my life or yours, I'll bounce." 

She zipped off and the prince yelled profanities after her.

"I wonder if I'll live long enough to see him become emperor this time," she said to Ivonne.

If there was an empire left for Callisto to rule, that was.

The spectral's eyes glowed with unspoken determination. "You will."

"Yo!" Penelope kicked open the doors to Callisto's study, not giving a damn about privacy. 

She slapped away the sword pointed at her neck. "I'm going to piss off the emperor, give me some cash to fund my activities."

Ivonne was cackling like a madman as she flew in circles around the ceiling.

"An offer that I can't refuse." Callisto bowed his head, smirking, and sheathed his sword. After a while of shuffling around his desk, he found what he was looking for. 

"Do your worst," he said before tossing a black envelope into the air.

Penelope caught the check with her thorns and saluted. "I'll make the faction proud." 

She vaulted herself out the window.

Callisto scrambled to look over the edge. "THIS ISN'T THE FIRST FLOOR—"

"I CAN FLOAT!" 

Penelope commissioned painters. Hundreds of painters. Whether they were amateurs or professionals, it didn't matter. 

What mattered was the result, and the result Penelope wanted were portraits of the emperor with horrific eyes. 

The kind where you would look at and wonder which circle of hell that eldritch monstrosity had crawled out of. Penelope was going to load up his palace with them. She would make sure that the emperor couldn't sleep peacefully even after he got rid of them.

Oh, the things you can do with money. She smiled as she stirred her wine glass. She didn't drink it, since she never knew who could have poisoned it. Ivonne also suspiciously eyed the glass.

Speaking of suspicious, Penelope flicked her eyes to the hooded person who took a spot next to her. They slid over a folded piece of paper, and ordered a drink. 

She tilted it over so that Ivonne could read it as well. The paper listed different slave auctions and slaves that would be sold at each one. 

Gathering information before an auction was strictly banned, but Penelope decided that that was a stupid rule, as were most things.

Ivonne made a sound and pointed. "There! Nernstein Street, slave from Delmaine. I know where that is, I can take us there."

"Smart girl," Penelope whispered with a grin. Found you, Iklies.  

She pulled a few strings and managed to get an invitation to the auction house. And by god, was it crowded.

There were children, probably some who weren't even ten, that were bruised, beaten, and resigned. (Not unlike how she once was.)

Penelope, with an odd turmoil of emotion, watched them be chained up and handed away. 

This is… wrong. Right?

One slave child began to cry, begging for their mother.

She didn't even remember her face, but didn't Penelope also have a mother, once?

Ivonne, on the other hand, glared bloodymurder at the nobles who whisked them away with greedy eyes.

Monsters, she called them. Disgusting, repulsive monsters.

"And our final product! From the defeated barbarian country of Delmaine, I present to you, Iklies!" 

Penelope sat through the show they made of pitting him against wild dogs with a wooden sword.

The only reason she had come to the auction was to kill Iklies. So why did the sight of the bastard in chains feel so uncomfortable? He deserved to suffer after all he did.

But not as a slave, Penelope decided. This has to be my final loop.

(Penelope would never claim to be good, no. That title belonged to Ivonne, her  moral compass, for the lack of a better term. Ivonne despised slavery, and nothing in Penelope's own very grey morals that denied that.

There was nothing else to it.)

"Hundred million," she drawled. Every head turned to her.

"Eh?"

"Hundred million. I doubt anyone else will bet higher than that, no?"

"Sold!" the announcer said cheerfully. "Iklies, sold to the lovely lady for a hundred million!"

She wanted out already. They led her to the back where she would take Iklies.

"This way please—"

CRACK! 

Penelope stopped, and Ivonne snarled when he opened the door. A man was whipping Iklies, who was gagged and already on his knees. 

Penelope watched for a few more seconds before tossing the man away with a simple air spell. The back of her neck prickled and she knew she was being stared at. She met Iklies’ gaze head on. Neither flinched, just stared.

Penelope looked away first when the announcer coughed and started to speak.

"Here you go, honored customer," he said nervously, and handed Penelope a ring with a gem the same color as her original hair. 

She stared at it suspiciously and Ivonne hovered over her head with an ominous expression. "What is this?"

"It is precaution, for you, Miss. It connects with the collar on the slave's neck. If you use this ring, it will send an electronic current that—"

"That's enough," she waved him off.

She scanned Iklies up and down. He looked like shit. Her eyes fell down to the man she had sent flying.

"You." 

The man backed away warily as Penelope loomed over him. On a completely unrelated note, they left with Iklies fully clothed.

"She's here!"

If Penelope rolled her eyes any harder, they’d be falling out of her skull. What now?

A group of men, at least thirty, surrounded them. The one who seemed to be commanding them was an old, wrinkly noble.

"You dare ignore me?" he shouted. "INSOLENT BRAT!"

With nary a thought, Penelope flung them all out into the open streets. Civilians cried out in surprise. 

Iklies stared in amazement, or was it shock? "Magic," he mumbled.

"Yeah, yeah. Think about it on the way." Penelope dropped her heavy cloak. With a wave of her hand, the chains on his hands and feet disappeared. 

"Can you run?" 

"Yes?" 

Penelope lifted both of them to the rooftops. "Great, start running."

Chapter Text

They were able to throw off the men not even halfway through their escape.

What useless knights, Ivonne thought, though not complaining.

That didn't mean they stopped running, no. Because paranoia was a pain to deal with.

Iklies, malnourished and exhausted as he was, didn't have enough stamina to keep up with Penny. So she just snatched him up and kept going.

Ivonne thought the bewilderment on the stoic man's was hilarious.

She wondered to herself, if Iklies had been on Penny's side, even once, could she have survived in the duchy?

Before Penny had been able to see her, when Ivonne used to just trail behind her hijacked body, she saw firsthand what Iklies was willing to do even without a direct command.

After observing him countless times, she knew he was incredibly codependent and unfathomably dangerous because of it. It was almost a good thing that the Leila snatched him away before he got attached to Penny.

Penny had no one until her. Or, perhaps it was more accurate to say that Ivonne had no one until Penny. They were lonely people who had no one to turn to but themselves. 

Penny dropped down from the rooftops as they neared the palace. The spectral watched her sorrowfully.

Because we're the only ones who carry the same pains. That's why we cling to each other so desperately.

She took a moment to glance up at the starry sky. She used to be able to feel the summer warmth as well with it, a long time ago.

("Father! Brothers! Look at that! The stars are flying!"

"They're called shooting stars, dummy."

"Don't call Ivonne a dummy.")

I’d like to watch the stars with you, too.

Penelope slipped past the guards unnoticed. 

The security's so lacking, she noted disdainfully.

Getting to Callisto's study might've been the hardest part, if only for how Penelope had to scale herself and Iklies up the building silently. She could've entered normally, but where was the fun in that?

(There were too many eyes in the entrance and hallways. Spies were everywhere, and Penelope very much liked not being spied on.)

She balanced precariously on the window ledge like some eldritch bird of night and tapped on the glass.

"I come with tribute. Open the window, you graceless man."

Light poured from inside  as the curtains were drawn. Callisto stared at her from the other side.

"While I am honored you miss me enough to visit, it's midnight," he deadpanned, voice slightly muffled.

She rolled her eyes. "Astute observation. Let me in." She rapped her fingers once again.

While she waited for Callisto to unlock the window, Ivonne phased through and looked back with a cheeky grin.

"Perks of being a spectral, right?"

Penelope huffed silently. 

Callisto slid the window open, "You said you brought tribute. I don't see it."

Penelope flipped her hair. "Is my angelic presence not enough?"

"I—"

She pushed him aside before he could finish, and shuffled to his desk to rummage through his drawers.

"Um, hello?" Callisto waved his hand in front of her face. He pulled it back when she snapped her teeth. "What are you even looking for?"

"I keep my stuff in here. I'll be out of your hair in a second," Penelope said, avoiding eye contact.

"I'm going to ignore the fact that you keep your belongings in my study and ask, who is that?"

Penelope looked at him in confusion and asked, "Whomst?"

"He's talking about Iklies. You need to put him down," Ivonne said patiently.

It took a moment for her to process what was said. She stared at Iklies, still slung over her shoulder like a sack of potatoes, and he stared back.

"Oh."

He landed with an umph sound.

"Don't worry about it. Anyways," she fished out a journal and a pen, "I'm gonna kick you out now. Shoo. A private investigation is about to commence."

She shoved the crown prince out with a wall of thorns as he complained, "I'll have you know that this is my study!"

Penelope closed the door on him. She turned her attention to Iklies. "Take a seat." 

She herself sat behind Callisto's desk.

Iklies watched her warily but obeyed. "Master—"

Penelope quickly cut him off, cringing. "Yeah, don't call me that. My name is Penelope."

Iklies looked at her with even more suspicion. His eyes flickered to her hands, then back at her, trying to decipher her intentions.

"Penelope?"

"Congratulations." She flipped her journal to a blank page. "I assume that that auction house isn't the only place you've been in. Tell me the earliest location you remember, and how the security was."

"The earliest?"

"Yes, before the auction house, what other places have you been in with other slaves? And while you're at it, how many slaves do you think we're with you in the auction house? I counted thirty-four."

Obviously taken aback by her onslaught of questions, Iklies stuttered out an answer, "Fifty-six."

"Looks like you'll be a lot more of a help to me than I thought," she muttered.

Their talk ran on for longer than she thought it would. The new information Penelope learned made her click her teeth.

Shipped to warehouses. Locked up in cages, taken out only to be beaten or sold. Or even pitted against each other in a ring for entertainment.

Penelope wasn’t upset enough to want to go on a rampage, per say, but… but she didn’t know what. Ivonne had left halfway through, phasing into the hallway to just scream.

This loop is going to be my last. This plan needs to be foolproof.

She shut her journal and dumped it back in the drawer. "Okay, that's everything I need, you're free to go."

Iklies looked up, startled.

Penelope tried not to show her irritation. Was he always so slow?

She rummaged through her pocket until she felt what she was looking for. She tossed the ring at him and he fumbled to catch it. While he was processing what just happened, Penelope marched to the doors and opened them with a bang.

A very startled crown prince was face to face with her.

"I remember asking for privacy," she said with a smile.

"I have no obligations towards you," Callisto retorted.

"Haha." She dragged him in by his golden hair. "Then come in and be more sociable!"

"Hey! Ow! I feel like you often forget that I'm—ow, ow, ow! Stop!"

Penelope ignored him.

"Iklies, this bastard is the future emperor. Yes, I know who you are, but do keep your hate boner in."

He choked.

"Bastard, this is Iklies. His new identity is a foreign mercenary if anyone asks. If either of you slip up, then I will personally castrate you. Got it?"

Penelope let her thorns creep up to show that she was serious. They both nodded frantically. Good.

"You'll be provided a room and medical treatment." Penelope gave Callisto a stern face. "Don't try anything."

Ivonne stuck out her tongue at Callisto. "That's what you get, eavesdropper."

When they finally reached the knights' quarters, Ivonne asked a question that made Penelope just regret.

"But what does castrate mean, Penny?"

She responded robotically, “Who’s Penny?”

Chapter Text

LOOP 25

The blood pooling from the still-warm body reflected her face. 

She didn't look human. Not when she was drenched in red, and her thorn vines fluctuated as if they were sentient.

She was rope held together by only a single thread.

Her shoulders shook and laughter bubbled in her chest.

Crazed, maniacal laughter. “Die, die, die, die!”

Eyes wide and bloodshot.

The looks of horror from the duke and the second son only spurred her to laugh even harder, to the point of tears.

"Look," she cried, spreading her arms in a wide arc. "It was so easy. Don't you see? You're just as mortal as I am."

She stepped over Derrick's corpse, twisting her heel in his ribs. He was only the beginning.

There was nothing to fear. Because when love wasn’t fed to you with a spoon, you learn to lick it off knives.

I̶̜͖̲̹̞͍̯̘̍̂'̵̹̔̾́͆͝ͅm̶̱͙̽́͝ ̵̩͓̗̻̩̝̓̎͝s̸͈̞̄̿̎ơ̸̜͈̥͊ŕ̶̡̘͇̯̤͌̆̑̽̀͜r̷̭͙̼͉̜͂̍͝ỳ̵̧̤̙͖̫̪̦̖̏̎.̶̲͔͈̻͕̣̯͂͐͒̐̚̕͜͠

Shut up, shut up, shut up, shut up, shut up.

CURRENT LOOP

Ivonne had watched Penny die countless times. 

She was there when her friend needed to force herself to keep walking, when she fell to her knees in despair, when she hurled curses at the heavens.

Just as the sun always rose to crown Penny in a blood-red halo, Ivonne was present.

Her family died by Penny's hands, and the first time was not the last. Not even close.

Penny had rampaged for ten loops. And then became idle and apathetic for the next thirty—all the way until they met eye contact for the first time.

I hated you for killing them.  

She watched from a distance as Penny subdued the assassins sent after the Callisto.

But now, I don't even know if I still love them anymore. Father, Derrick, and Reynold are so different. 

It hurt when she looked back to the times when Reynold would give her piggyback rides, and Derrick read her bedtime stories. The way Father would always make time to walk her through Mother's garden.

They were no longer the same people from her memories, and the loss was unbearable some days.

Penny suffered because of them, more than she did because of the Leila.

These feelings—the love she had for her family, her newfound love for Penny—clashed inside her. 

She hated it.

She hated that Father neglected, Derrick blamed, Reynold broke.

Penny deserved none of it.

Ivonne didn't want to forgive them, but her heart still couldn't let go of the people they once were.

She flew to Penny and pretended to embrace her, recieving a curious look.

Would you hate me if you knew?  

Like a coward, she couldn't say anything about the turmoil inside of her.

"I love you."

Penny took a moment to register what she said. It was the first time Ivonne had said anything like that to her.

Turquoise eyes slowly formed into crescents, and an awkward but gentle smile graced her lips. 

"Thank you," she whispered.

Ivonne wanted to cry.

I love you, I love you, I love you. 

"I love you."

Penelope would never admit the soft feeling that had overtaken her heart when the shock had passed.

Had anyone ever said that to her? Maybe her mother, who she could hardly recall, had. 

"Thank you." 

She didn't reciprocate the same words back. Even if she were capable of it, Penelope didn’t think she could mean it. Not yet.

She flicked the blood off her sword and slid it back in its sheath. "Iklies hasn't been doing anything suspicious, right?"

Ivonne shook her head. "Nope. He's assimilated nicely into the knights' barrack. Though..." she trailed, and a thoughtful expression came up on her face.

"But?"

"I think it's better for you to see it for yourself. You have better judgment than me," Ivonne decided.

"Right," Penelope said, skeptical. "I'll check in on the psycho later."

Abort! Abort!  

Penelope ran out of the common room as though the devil was on her heels.

"YOU CAN'T RUN FOREVER!" multiple, thunderous voices cried from behind her.

"Go to hell!"

Penelope rounded the corner, but failed to duck when Callisto ambushed her.

"Relinquish me, you straw-haired turd!" she screamed. She flailed wildly and met Ivonne's eyes.

The spectral only laughed and jokingly saluted her. Penelope gasped, absolutely mortified. 

BETRAYED! BY THE ONE I TRUST MOST!

Callisto lifted her easily and carried her back to the common room.

Penelope put up a fierce fight, hissing and spitting like a wet cat and probably tearing out some of the man's hair.

He winced, but didn't relinquish his hold. The other knights dramatically opened the door for them and everyone else inside cheered.

"You signed up to be an imperial knight," Callisto said smugly. "So you have to participate in these as well. It's mandatory."

Penelope wanted to punch him. Again. "I fail to see why parties are at all mandatory to being a knight—"

"DRINKING CONTEST! AGAINST THE MONSTER HERSELF!" a burly knight whooped.

Rude.

Empty beer cups (more like buckets) and bodies of wasted knights were strewn across the floor. Yet the man, Alec, didn't look the slightest bit drunk.

Penelope scowled as she was plopped down on a chair facing against him. She threw her hands up in disbelief when she saw Ivonne amongst the knights, cheering loudly as them.

"Ten coppers that Alec's gonna win!"

"Are you stupid? Fifteen on the Wizard Knight!"

“I don’t want to drink this moldy bread juice,” Penelope hissed.

“Yes, yes. We are well aware of your fine palate,” Callisto said patronizingly, patting her head. He retracted when she snapped her teeth. “That’s why we ordered for you crates of various flower cocktails with overly fancy names.”

She blinked. Twice. “Gimme.”

“Is that fair?” Alec whispered to the side. “I’ve heard that cocktails have a greater alcohol content.”

“It’s fine, you oaf,” someone else whispered back. “Just win and I’ll split the money with you.”

Another thing Penelope wasn’t expecting to see was Iklies, of all people, sitting quietly as he exchanged money with other knights.

Prince “no one’s ever worked harder to be unhinged” Iklies. Getting along with people?

Because nothing was sacred, apparently. 

Penelope didn't react as someone brought the cocktails to her table. Her mind needed to be cleansed of that scene immediately. 

She poured alcohol down her esophagus and it felt like being deepthroated by lavender and lemon zest.

Everything became a blur after that. By the time she came to, Penelope was arm wrestling Alec and winning.

How they got there, who knew? Not the knights (they were piss-drunk) and certainly not Penelope.

Far off in the corner, Ivonne was invested in the drama between the two lady knights who were drunkenly confessing their love for each other in the background.

Penelope slammed Alec's hand on the table and scampered to the front seat view of the flustered lovebirds.

"Their names are Charlie—Lucy is the blonde," Ivonne said without Penelope even having to ask. "They're childhood friends. Charlie's been pining since forever, but Lucy only just recently discovered her feelings!"

Penelope listened with utmost interest. And then raised a hand over her mouth when Charlie and Lucy started making out.

They won’t be able to look each other in the eye after this, she thought, amused. She turned her head when she felt a familiar aura draw near.

Iklies stared at the heated scene in front of them and whispered very quietly, "I knew it."

And then left.

Penelope gave Ivonne a bewildered look. Was I hallucinating or did that just happen?

The spectral shrugged, and nonchalantly said, "Yeah, he's been like that for a while now."

Penelope decided she didn't want to know.

A couple moments passed, and then another aura came by. But this time, Penelope was ready.

"Are those two finally getting together—"

Penelope punched the crown prince in the face. The catharsis was amazing.

This is for dragging me into this party. Even if the cocktails returned some semblance of my will to live.

When Callisto gave her an incredulous expression, Penelope smiled "apologetically" and said, "Sorry, I got spooked."

That spurred an all-out impromptu brawl.

T'was the life of an imperial knight.

Chapter Text

A newspaper to the face first thing in the morning did not help with hangovers.

"You'll die a virgin," Penelope groaned and kicked Callisto's ankles. She looked around groggily. "Did everyone spend the night in the common room?"

"Doesn't matter, read the article first," he said seriously.

Uneasiness filled her gut. "Get me water," she replied, standing up to find a better place to read.

Callisto took a moment to feel offended. "Who do you think you're ordering around? Your servant?" But he did as Penelope said anyway.

She walked with a bit of a wobble to an empty table and sat on a chair, conjuring up a dim light to read the papers. 

The bold headline caught her eye and she went still.

SEARCH FOR THE MISSING DAUGHTER OF ECKHART CONTINUES!

Eight months have passed with still no sign of the missing Lady Penelope Eckhart. Eerily similar to the incident six years ago, Lady Penelope Eckhart had disappeared from the Eckharts' mansion, just like how the first daughter, Lady Ivonne Eckhart had—

She set the article ablaze, refusing to read any further.

"It's just my guess, but I think your fellow knights would not prefer being so close to a fiery object," Callisto commented as he poured the glass of water over the glorified kindling.

Penelope scoffed. "'Gone missing' my ass. I walked out of that place during broad daylight. And I was considerate enough to leave a note behind too."

Callisto pulled out a chair for himself and looked at her skeptically. "A note? What did it even say?"

Penelope tried to think but after a while, shrugged. "Dunno. My memory's shit."

He poured the rest of the water over her head.

"Do you want to fight again?"

He drew his sword. "Bring it!"

Lucy's head smacked on the table. "Charlie's avoiding me," she groaned.

Penelope barely spared her a glance and slid a glass of some of the remaining cocktails from the party.

The burly woman sniffed. "Thanks."

"Alright, you fucks! Gather 'round and pick a lot! Names have already been separated from the West Wing knights. We will not make the same mistake as last year!" the captain shuddered.

Penelope scratched her head, clueless. She tapped the knight next to her. "What are we picking lots for?"

"The pair-ups for the Hunting Competition patrols. Weren't you paying attention?"

Penelope did not dignify that question with a response. 

Hunting Competition... Hunting Competition... Did something happen this year? Could've sworn it was a big deal.

She quickly gave up that train of thought as she went up to pick a lot. Many gulped in nervous anticipation.

"Iklies." Penelope blinked and read it again. Then looked over to her new patrol partner.

Iklies stared back, with Penelope assumed and hoped was fear. Either way, she was going to make it everyone's problem.

The day of the Hunting Competition came by way too fast.

Penelope wore her usual resting bitch face as she strapped her sword onto her back.

Time to get this over with, I guess.

Ivonne gave her a very encouraging thumbs-up. 

Iklies was a paranoid bastard and it showed. (Pot calling the kettle black.) The way he kept glancing at her on and off was also really getting on her nerves.

Penelope knew from personal experience that he wouldn't initiate conversation, but instead use subtle body language to make the other person break first.

Conniving little fuckface. Suffer in silence, I ain't talking to you.

By the time they patrolled around their route (during which nothing particularly of note happened), all the nobles had arrived. 

So far, she hadn't caught sight of the Eckharts, and prayed it stayed that way.

They passed by as Callisto was dissing the second prince, who Penelope was pretty sure didn't even have a name.

"Shouldn't a crying child be allowed to stay with his parents?" he said, smirking.

Penelope and Ivonne both snorted.

The second prince was far from a child, but his personality though...

They circled the perimeter before switching positions with another pair. Twenty minutes had passed and things were quiet. 

Suspiciously quiet.

Penelope exchanged glances with Ivonne. She understood immediately and flew back to the gathering. 

Seconds later, "Penny!" Ivonne cried urgently as she came back.

"What's happening?" 

"The Leila cult infiltrated with monsters! There's a barrier around the perimeter and the guards can't get through it."

So that's what I was forgetting. 

Penelope was already running back, yanking Ilkies along. With her vines, she grappled to the lining of trees that surrounded the banquet. 

The other knights who were trying to break through the barrier yelped when Penelope crash landed next to them. She dropped Iklies and winded her arm.

"Get back," she ordered before smashing her magic reinforced fist into the barrier. 

It took two more hits for her to finally break through. 

Penelope leaped into the fray. 

Giant, bird-like monsters stampeded around, chasing guests and tearing up everything in its way, a group of hooded people standing in a circle, chanting.

Why has nobody gone after them yet? Useless fools.

It only took one lightning quick swipe of her thorn vine to behead them all, but the monsters still rampaged on. 

The nobles took in the bloodbath and shrieked.

Penelope was beginning to get annoyed. 

"Hey!" she yelled at the other knights who began to flood in. "Round up the guests and evacuate them, they're in my way."

She unsheathed her sword and charged.

"Wait!" Callisto yelled. 

I can't exactly do that.

"They don't die that way! They split apart and multiply!" Ivonne shouted.

Ah, shoot. I forgot that too. 

At the last moment, Penelope managed to envelope her blade in red fire before cutting the monster down.

The metal sank into its flesh—lightning crackled and the flames exploded—slicing it in two.

The monster released an ear piercing screech, and slowly melted into a flaming, slimy goop.

Yuck, she thought as some of the slime dripped down onto her head.

She turned back and shouted, "Don't worry, I got it." There were ten more monsters left.

Penelope chose to remain ignorant of the number of eyes on her as she finished off the last monster.

"Isn't that Lady Eckhart?"

"Oh, dear," Ivonne muttered. That was comforting.

A hand closed around her arm and suddenly Penelope was staring into blue, blue eyes. 

"Penelope!" the duke gasped.

She pulled herself free in disgust.

"Yes, that is my name. Don't wear it out." She ran her fingers through her hair, trying to rake out the slimy monster residue.

The first son of a bitch (oof, those eyebags could carry the weight of his sins) glared at her with a wild look in his eyes that she really didn't like.

"Ha!" Reynold scoffed, "Do you have nothing to say after leaving just a note that reads word for word, 'If you have eyes, you can see that I'm gone. Don't bother looking.'"

"What did you say? I wasn't listening."

"PENELOPE ECKHAR—"

Someone else that wasn't Penelope reacted before Derrick finished. 

A whole ass sword flew towards them at incredible speeds and stabbed the ground between them.

"Back up."

Overdramatic. Penelope rolled her eyes as Callisto stepped forward. 

"Show off," Ivonne said disdainfully. 

The man approached with lazy strides and yanked his sword from the ground with little effort.

"This," he pointed at her, "is Penelope the Wizard Knight. First and only one of her title. Her debut was supposed to be at the end of the Hunting Competition, but oh well," he shrugged, "Now is a better time than ever, no?"

Never has your bullshit-spitting mouth been so useful.

But as funny as it was, this was also Callisto's way of laying his claim on her.

She's one of mine, so don't even think about it. 

It was as touching as it was unpleasant.

"Your highness," Duke Eckhart said hastily. "This is my daughter—"

"Ah! But you must be mistaken, Duke Eckhart," Callisto said with a shiteating grin. "This is just someone who just happens to look like your missing daughter and happens to share the same name as her." 

"That is completely correct," Penelope said, nodding along. "I have no clue about any note, but it seems that Lady Eckhart left on her own accord, and is unwilling to come back."

She and Callisto nodded together.

"But!" Reynold said incredulously before he was interrupted.

"Oh my," she said while covering her mouth. "Are you about to deny the words of the crown prince in front of all these people?"  

She spread her arm out to the massive crowd of nobles who were listening in with great interest.

Reynold held his tongue but still glared furiously. 

Penelope felt… odd. 

Peaceful wasn't the right word, nor was unguarded, or relaxed. It was strange. She recalled feelings of visceral hatred, anger, and bloodlust in so many previous loops.

But now, it was as though she was staring at a painting in a gallery that held no meaning to her. She felt nothing. 

Of course, she had still been tempted to hack off the duke's arm when he first grabbed her, but that was her general reaction towards anyone regarding touch.

The Eckharts did not elicit any other emotion in her other than sheer indifference.

Does this mean I've forgiven them?  

Nope. No. Absolutely not. Every cell in her body instantly denied it. 

Okay, then what's going on?

"Your highness!" a knight said, rushing towards them. "We have gathered up all the criminals!"

Maybe it just means I've stopped caring about them enough to not feel angry altogether.  

Everyone turned around to look at the remaining cult members tied up and kneeling on the ground. 

Iklies was one of the knights who had his sword out and raised as a warning, but he had a weird expression on his face.

"The remaints of the Leila kingdom," Callisto mused.

"Yup," Penelope confirmed. She paused, and then lowered her voice. "Hey, crown prince. You see this shit?"

She stared at the robed children tied down among them, wearing the same expression as the slaves at the auction. She glanced back at Iklies. 

Oh, so that's why.

A guard cautiously swept back a child's hair to reveal a black earring. There was magic cast on it, Penelope could sense. She quickly approached the child and crouched down, removing the earring.

There was a fizz of lightning, and the child suddenly collapsed onto her, unconscious. She turned her head up to look at Callisto.

"Looks like magic amplifying devices to me. Take off the rest of these," she said to the other knights.

Callisto looked contemplative. "It doesn't look like they're part of the Leila Kingdom. But they still took part in the crimes. Take them away to—"

"Your highness!" a shout came from the crowd.

Callisto raised a brow, and Penelope made an ugly face. 

Winter.

"What is it, Marquess Verdandi?" Callisto replied.

Winter looked at him apprehensively, and then glanced at Penelope for a moment.

Die.

"Please allow me to take in the children," he said.

Callisto turned skeptical. "What for?"

"These children were clearly not able to properly use their cognitive abilities. They seem like they were kidnapped and then manipulated for some time."

The prince frowned. "I recall that you had been a major help during the viscounty kidnapping, but this is an attack against the royal family."

Penelope walked up to his side and said in a low voice, "Let him." 

Red eyes flickered to her. She nodded, and he sighed. "I hope you know what you're doing."

"For the most part." She fixed her eyes on her spectral companion. 

I know that’s what Ivonne wants and that's a good enough reason in general.

"I'll be excused first, then."

Chapter Text

Consequences meant as little to Ivonne as it did to Penelope. 

Which meant it could get pretty awkward for her to be able to see the things Ivonne came up with when she got bored.

Things like what she was doing now, floating disturbingly close to Winter Verdandi's face and whispering shit like:

"There's a tree working very hard to replenish the air you waste everyday. Go apologize to it." 

"You have a single hair in the middle of your forehead. Pathetic." 

"The FitnessGram Pacer Test is a multistage aerobic capacity test that—" 

"I'll make every waking moment of yours hell as soon as I get my body back." 

Penelope didn't think Ivonne liked him. She turned her eyes away and fixed them on Callisto, who mounted his horse.

She squinted in disgust. "Are those white boots? Ever heard of grass stains?" 

"Don't judge what I wear," Callisto said haughtily, turning up his nose. "And aren't you supposed to be on patrol?"

"I'm the 'Wizard Knight' now, your highness. I am excluded from such activities." Penelope stopped swinging her legs and looked down at him. "Unless you don't want me here?"

"Who doesn't want you here?" the prince snapped. "Don't go anywhere."

"How could I ever disobey?" Penelope drawled.

"That guy is way too clingy," Ivonne suddenly popped up next to her and said in an irritated voice.

Penelope eyed her with amusement. Not that different from you, then. Except you're undoubtedly cuter.  

"Also, when do you think the hag will strike again?" Penelope swung off the tree branch she was sitting on and dropped down next to him.

Callisto hummed. "Right now, probably?" he said before riding off.

Penelope glided past the trees after him, followed shortly by Ivonne, flying through the forest with smiles on their faces.

"This is completely your fault!" Penelope accused as she casted a barrier against the shower of arrows that rained down upon them from the trees.

"How!" Callisto squawked.

"Because you jinxed it!" she yelled back, growling as she turned back to the assassins fighting on the ground. 

"How many?" she hissed at Ivonne under her breath.

"Twenty," she answered. "The fastest way out of the forest should be—watch out!"

Penelope saw it from the corner of her eye just as Ivonne warned her. 

It was an object, about the size of her fist, flying through the air. It glowed, and just as it hit her barrier, it exploded, shattering the barrier and throwing Penelope and Callisto back before she tethered them down with her thorns.

Fuck! Penelope winced at the scorch mark left behind on her arm.

"Get back!" Callisto shouted as he fought off two assassins.

"Here comes another one!" Ivonne said, and Penelope whipped around fast enough to catch the second explosive projectile. 

It was a glass vial, filled with some clear liquid she couldn't identify.

Penelope looked one assassin dead in the eye before hurling it back at them. She heard a panicked scream before that side of the forest exploded.

Another explosive vial was thrown her way, this time sickly green, and she caught that, too. 

But the second she touched it, every cell in her body screamed at her to GET AWAY, GET AWAY, RIGHT NOW. 

Penelope flung it as far away from her as she could and leaped back. What the hell is that thing! 

She wasn't able to afford another thought on it as her body moved out of the way of an arrow on instinct.

Thorns bursted from her body and Penelope directed them to the assassins she could sense via aura.

"Monster!" 

Unbeknownst to her, Penelope's eyes seemed to glow in the rain as she thought coldly, Only fourteen left. 

She dropped low and grabbed three fist-sized rocks and flung them in different directions at once.

The same blaring sensation came over her again and Penelope realized she had unknowingly come near to where she had thrown the green liquid vial. 

She ducked away from a throwing knife, but belatedly realized that it was never aimed for her in the first place.

 It hit the vial, and instantly her vision was clouded in green mist. She gasped in shock, accidentally breathing it in. 

The effect was immediate.

One moment she was standing, the next, screeching on the ground. Her thorns she had out mid-attack went flailing and thrashing along with her.

"Penny!"

"Penelope!"

She had never experienced this pain before. The unknown substance coursed through her veins, attacking her from the inside. It pulled and burned and tore.  

She clawed at the ground, and then her hair. Another wretched scream escaped her lips. 

It hurt. 

Every death she had died before was nothing compared to this pain. 

She thrashed in agony. 

An assassin jumped on her with a dagger aimed for her heart. 

Penelope lifted a trembling hand to bring up a shield, but was thrown into another world of pain as soon as she made the attempt.

She felt the cold metal begin to pierce into her chest, and numbingly accepted it.

I'm going to die again, aren't I? 

Despair, something she didn't know she was capable of feeling anymore, filled her chest.

But just before the dagger sank any deeper, golden hair flooded her vision as Callisto was there in a moment, throwing the assassin off her and violently ending them with a swing of his sword. 

She jolted as the man hoisted her up and mounted his horse.

"Keep it together!" he shouted through the wind. "You are not allowed to die! I'm ordering you not to die!"

"Ivonne," she choked out. She couldn't see the spectral anywhere. 

And then there was water, and her lungs burned burned burned.

Too many things were happening at once.

The knife struck the third vial, and it exploded in green mist, and because of that Penny was writhing on the ground screaming like her heart was being torn out of her chest, and an assassin was aiming for her with a knife, and Ivonne was frozen. 

Penny was going to die. Ivonne couldn't concentrate on anything but that.

She's going to die. She's going to die. She's going to die again.

The spectral whirled around and clawed at the damn prince despite her incorporeal fingers.

"Hey, help Penny! Help her, you stupid prince! She's gonna get killed again—YOU NEED TO HELP HER!"

Callisto finally tossed aside the assassins and rushed to Penny's aid.

"Be careful with her!" she snapped as he threw Penny over his horse and dashed away.

No matter how loudly she yelled her name, Penny didn't respond or even look in her direction.

Panic set deep into her bones, and Ivonne was just about to lose it when Penny finally whispered her name just before she fell unconscious.

Don't die. Please don't die.  

Chapter Text

Callisto came to on the shore of the lake they fell into after his (admittedly) reckless gamble of jumping off the cliff.

It was cold, with the heavy rain and wet clothes. He coughed a couple of times to expel the water in his lungs. 

He took a moment to register what truly happened before bursting into laughter.

They could have drowned to death. 

He looked to the side and saw the woman lying beside him, pale and unmoving. 

Callisto jolted upright and checked for a pulse. Don't be dead, don't be dead, don't be dead—

It felt like an eternity before he felt one. It was small, but still a pulse nonetheless. Callisto nearly collapsed with relief.

He hadn't realized it at first, but they were stuck in a tangle of thorny vines that sprouted from Penelope's arm and wrapped around his body, anchoring themselves to each other.

Did she drag us out of the water by herself? Callisto thought incredulously as he freed himself from the thorns and lifted Penelope up. 

He ignored the sharp pains on his back from the stab wounds.

"Crazy woman," he snorted.

But even in the dim rain, he could see the cloud of red that stained Penelope's clothes right below her collarbone. 

The memory of that lowly assassin making an attempt on her life still sent Callisto's blood boiling with rage, but he pushed it down in favor of finding shelter. He came across a cave not long after.

There could be wild animals inside, he thought warily. He shifted his hold on Penelope to bring his hand near his sword hilt before entering.

The cave stretched far. So far that he couldn't see where it ended. He carefully placed the wizard against the stone wall and ventured further in.

He strained his ears and listened for the sound of breathing creatures, but heard nothing. There weren't any distinct smells of anything living (or dead) either.

An involuntary shiver went down his body and he was reminded that he was, indeed, drenched. 

He turned his eyes to the still unconscious Penelope, whose lips were turning a concerning blue.

Callisto looked down at his cloak, which was dry thanks to the enchantment on it, and sighed. 

The things I do, he thought without any real irritation. He replaced Penelope's wet clothes with his cloak. 

But then something caught his eye. Black veins, spreading from the lower part of her face and down, marked her body.

"What on earth?" he muttered. 

He really wanted to wonder more about them, but they were both at risk of hypothermia and Callisto preferred less near death experiences for one day.

The prince always carried flint around with him in case of emergencies, like now, but he lacked fuel. 

So he had to venture out again to gather firewood, dry firewood, which was going to be annoying because it was raining.

It was at moments like these where Callisto allowed himself to feel slightly envious of Penelope, who could magically summon fire whenever she wanted. 

I'll burn your dick off. I'll do it, is what she'd probably retort if Callisto were to actually share those thoughts aloud.

He rolled his eyes and swung his sword, cutting off the driest branches he could find.

The world was on fire. 

Blazing branches snapped and fell around her in a circle, caging her.

Her throat burned from poison—her lungs soaked up too much blood—spears and arrows sank themselves deeper into her back with each pressing second—invisible hands throttled her neck. 

With great effort, Penelope tried to push the hallucinations away.

Wake up, she urged herself. You're being attacked, wake up. 

She clawed out of the dream with excruciating slowness and clenched teeth, and eventually peeled open her eyes.

Penelope was lying on hard ground swaddled by a warm fabric, a fire going on in front of her. She tried pushing herself up before a wave of pain hit her, real and physical.

She curled tightly around herself, clenching her teeth as tears pricked in her eyes.

Ow, ow, ow. She bit down on her lip, but a pathetic cry left her mouth anyway. Make it stop.

If Penelope had been in the right state of mind, she would've heard the sound of wood clattering on stone and the lightning-fast footsteps approaching her.

But the only thing she could sense at the moment were the arms that scooped her up in a sitting position, which stopped her from choking on the blood that traveled up her throat a moment later.

Penelope thrashed wildly, latching onto Callisto's wrist in what must have been a painful grip with the way she dug her nails into it. 

The man didn't protest and just continued to hold her upright as she coughed.

"Keep breathing," his voice found its way to her ears. "Evenly. In, out. Slow down, you'll choke."

What felt like an eternity to Penelope passed before the pain dulled down. It was still there, pulsing, but much more bearable.

She released a long breath, her tense muscles relaxing. She pushed Callisto’s arm away, thoroughly exhausted and done.

"I better be getting a raise," she spat out.

"You are so petty.”

"I almost died, fuckwad." Her eyes darted around. Where’s Ivonne?

Not a hint of her spectral companion was to be found. A cold, unnerving chill went down her spine.

Penelope had just been near death, but Ivonne wasn't here. 

There was nothing in this world that could describe the utter wrongness of Penelope's cries, of the woman who laughed mockingly at the face of danger.

If he were to describe it, it would be like a child realizing their parent wasn’t infallible or invincible. Just human.

From the day he’d met her, Penelope always seemed like a person who was larger than life.

It was almost a great relief when she bounced back to her regular self with a snarky remark, but the black veins still posed a question. 

"Is this from that green mist?" Penelope pondered aloud.

"They're the marks of your sins," he whispered ominously. Callisto thought it was a perfectly funny joke and that he did not deserve that elbow jab.

"Shut it If you're not going to be helpful," she snapped. She shoved a piece of ripped cloth in her mouth to act as a gag, and closed her eyes.

Callisto watched with morbid fascination as her hand glowed and pulled . 

The left side of Penelope's skin turned a sickly, mold green color before peeling away from her body as a cloud of mist.

"What the actual fuck?" he said aloud.

Penelope spat out the gag. "Give me your sheath."

Callisto looked at her in confusion. "My sword sheath?"

"Your highness, I don't care if I was poisoned by some green mist thing. If you make me repeat myself, I'm throwing your ass into oblivion," she snapped impatiently. 

The prince obediently handed his sword sheath to her. As quick as lightning, she shoved the mist into the sheath and tied the opening with the impromptu gag.

"You are resourceful, if anything," Callisto admitted.

“How do you think I survived this long?”

Penelope resisted the urge to fold in on herself and bit her lips, riding out the pain. This is like menstrual cramps but everywhere on my body, what the hell. I've been reacting badly whenever I use magic. 

A loud crying sound halted Penelope's whirring mind. Ivonne. Her shoulders sagged. Oh thank god.

"—eeeennnnnny!" the spectral wailed. "I'm right here!"

Was it bad that she thought this was funny?

"You’ve gotta deck that stupid prince! He took off your clothes while you were unconscious and then ogled you! Just dump him!" Ivonne wiped her watery blue eyes and made eye contact with Penelope.

She gave a small smile.

The spectral blinked exactly twice, and abruptly burst into tears again. “PEEENNNNNYYYY!”

Chapter Text

"You know those bodies that have been turning up? There's magically inflicted wounds on them. Our little menace might've gone apeshit," Lucy whispered to her colleagues as they continued their search for the crown prince and Penelope. 

Alec's brows shot up. "Really? What on earth did they do for little Penelope to resort to magical means instead of the good ol' fists?"

The blonde shrugged. "She's straightforward. Goes for the kill. Her life must've been in danger for that to happen." Her expression darkened. 

"And how do you know that?" Charlie came up from behind them, nudging Lucy's shoulder.

Lucy fiddled with her hair. "After the, uh," she blushed, "drinking incident, Penelope talked me through a gay crisis. One thing led to another and we learned a little bit about each other."

"Really?" her girlfriend teased. "A girl ten years your junior talked you through a gay crisis."

The red on Lucy's face spread down to her neck as she quickly changed the subject. "Do you remember last year's Hunting Competition?"

The humor left their faces and the mood turned grave.

"Yeah, I remember," Charlie said. "Back when she was still a noble, Penelope pointed a crossbow at Lady Kellen." She frowned. 

"I thought she was just some spoiled girl with a rotten personality, but she's nothing like that. She wouldn't have threatened someone for no reason."

Alec nodded. "She gets angry quickly and shouts a lot, but she's never laid a hand on us outside of training."

"Lady Kellen hosted the ladies' tea party that year," Lucy added. "And her fiance was Baron Tullet, a well known ally of Marquess Allen, the father of the queen. It's all too suspicious to be a coincidence."

She pursed her lips, not liking the conclusion she was coming to: 

A noble lady who was slighted by Penelope in the past, her fiance who turned up dead alongside at least six other nobles with magically inflicted wounds, and most likely suspect missing.

Marquess Allen had probably planned another assassination on their prince, and spread rumors to frame Penelope with the crime.

"Let's just hope that we find them before the queen's people do—"

They all collectively shrieked when a head popped out from the trees.

Lucy clung to Charlie, who jumped at least a foot high into the air, while Alec instinctively swung his heavy broadsword, missing their ambusher by a hair.

"God damn it, kid! I think I just lost five years off my life!" Charlie cried when they realized who it was.

Alec nodded frantically with a hand over his chest. "I'm getting old, take it easy on me!"

The newest of their squadron, Iklies, blinked his grey eyes slowly. "You said that Penelope used to be a noble?"

"AT LEAST APOLOGIZE, YOU LITTLE BRAT!"

"Wake up."

Penelope opened her eyes feeling more crap than usual. She sat up groggily and turned to Ivonne. 

"What is it?" she yawned.

The spectral stared ahead where the cave stretched farther beyond. "There's something really weird about this cave. Can you sense it?"

Confused, Penelope closed her eyes and reached for her magic. The action sent a spark of pain through her head, but nothing she couldn't shrug off.

Now she could see what Ivonne was talking about. It was a weird presence, nothing she'd ever sensed before. 

The closest she could describe it to was the phantom feeling of bugs crawling down her spine.

Penelope slipped out of the red cloak Callisto had lended her and put on her dry clothes that were laid out next to the remains of the fire. 

The spectral wore a contemplative face. "You might want to check if that lump is still breathing."

Penelope turned her head to the sleeping form of Callisto, whose back rested against the stone wall. 

She walked over to him and nudged him with her foot. "Hey." She frowned. 

He was cold. Not corpse-cold, but not normal. She shook him lightly. 

He didn't even stir.

She blew on her knuckles once before curling them into a fist. 

Callisto opened his eyes right before his face ate the ground. 

"WHAT THE HELL—did you HIT me?"

"Oh, you're alive!" she chirped innocently, hiding her hands behind her back as Ivonne snickered.

"I—yes I'm alive, did you think I was dead?" he snapped, rubbing his face.

"Well, you looked dead," she replied and threw his clothes from the ground. "Get dressed, we're going exploring."

The man gave her a nasty glare but complied.

Penelope grabbed the last burning branch of the fire to use as a torch. As the light danced around the cave, a glittering object caught her eye.

Ivonne approached it faster than she did with an apprehensive but curious expression. 

"It's a knife," her face darkened, "Must've belonged to the assassins."

Penelope reached down and picked it up. The knife was made of a sort of dark bluish-purple metal that she'd never seen before. 

She turned it over in her hands, nose wrinkling when she saw blood stains still on it.

Wait…

She let go of the knife with a clatter, and vines sprouted from the ground to immobilize Callisto, who gave a yelp of surprise.

"What now!" he yelled.

Penelope didn't answer as she spun him around like a puppet.

"This is assault! You'd be thrown in the dungeon if we were in the palace!" he snapped, perhaps a touch wary.

She flipped him over and shoved his shirt up to expose his back, and tsked. 

Callisto ceased his struggle, having realized her intent. "To be fair, I had a lot of other pressing concerns at the moment."

Stab wounds. Two of them, red and angry. 

"You of all people should know not to hide injuries. Couldn't you have at least bandaged them?"

Was it her fault? Did Callisto ignore his wounds in favor of helping her? 

No. Callisto Regulus was a grown ass man and she didn't have to feel any responsibility over what he did, Penelope told herself.

The wizard was good at healing herself, but others? Not quite so. She tried her best to seal the wounds shut anyway.

Callisto shrugged as she let the vines release him after. "It stopped bleeding."

"You'll die of infection and I'll laugh."

He flipped her off.

Ivonne floated up beside her. "How did I not notice," she said, smacking her head.

"You can't fix chronic stupidity," Penelope murmured back.

Callisto blinked in confusion. "What?"

She threw his coat over his head. "I'm going to check out the cave on my own, stay here," she said.

"Absolutely not," he snapped. He tried to stand up but Penelope none too gently knocked him back down.

"Seriously, you'll be of no use if you get an infection, or worse, if that knife was poisoned."

"I bet it was totally poisoned," Ivonne drawled. 

"Do you know how bad it'll look for me if I return with only your dead corpse?" She bent down to pick the knife up again, eyeing it with suspicion before tucking it away.

Callisto scowled in silence. He eventually looked away first with an expression that made it look like it physically pained him to do so.

She had won.

"Fine," he spat through gritted teeth. 

Her lips quirked up and she set off to venture farther into the cave. 

The tunnels were much more expansive and complicated than she had expected, and had to mostly rely on Ivonne's sharper senses to guide them.

A strong breeze swept through the tunnel, making Penelope's hair fly wildly and extinguishing the flames on the torch.

"Don't worry, we're here," Ivonne said before she could curse.

Turning the last corner, they both stilled in shock. 

A shiver went up Penelope's spine as they took in the sight of the glowing magic circle on the ground, which upon the center of it stood a skeletal corpse holding.

In each hand, it held an ominous scroll.

Take it.

"What the hell," she trailed. Her eyes were drawn to the light the magic circle provided, blue-green and hypnotizing. 

Take it. It's mine.

"What are you doing?" Ivonne said in an alarmed voice.

But Penelope couldn't focus on her words. The pull of the magic circle was just too irresistible. 

She hadn't even realized she was kneeling on the ground and reaching for it.

Take it, the voice whispered again. They stole first, steal everything back. 

It's mine now. Mine mine mine MINE MINE— 

S̸̛͚̔͛̈́̓̐̂͑͘İ̶̥̪̼̖̹͉̩̰͇͕͙͇͋̇̊͊̑͂̓L̶̢̨̛̤̲̞̬̩̀͗̌͜Ę̷̢̟̖̲̬̟͉̝̖̗͈̳̀͜N̵̘̄̽̌̇̿̈͝C̵̨̰̟̙̹̺̱͕̼̬̪͉͔̮̰̩̬̈́̔̅͐͆̈́͜͜Ȩ̴͎͙͉̮̬͓͎͖̩̠̞̝͓̜̯̠̱̟̰̊̽̒̇͒̂̀!̷̗̻̝̫͓͔̯͔͎̖͉̫̂̿̿̌͂͌̌̆̌̕͝

"PENELOPE!" 

Two voices screamed in tandem.

With a gasp, Penelope jerked herself back.

Fear was an old friend and she shuddered in its haunting embrace.

Ivonne stared at her with a stunned expression, and Penelope mirrored her.

"Nope," was the first thing that escaped her mouth. "Nope, nope, nada. No thank you. I will not be greeting the devil today."

She scooched back as far as she could.

It seemed that Ivonne also shared her sentiments because at the same time, she flung herself away from the decidedly cursed magic circle and screeched . 

"I hate it! Get rid of it! Get rid of it!" the spectral cried.

Penelope glanced back at the skeleton. Just what had it been trying to do?

And what the hell was that voice?

Chapter Text

LOOP TEN

Callisto all but sauntered out of the banquet hall, his blood boiling. 

If gods were real, would they be kind enough to finally make that witch keel over dead? 

He entered the maze garden, throwing out a bone for any assassins to take out his anger on. From the tall hedges, he heard a sound.

Sniff. 

Curious, he navigated the maze with his sword unsheathed.

It was a woman. The Mad Dog of Eckhart, to be exact.

The woman sat on one of the benches, rubbing her eyes furiously as she cried.

"What's the point? If you want me to die, then just let me die already!" she sobbed.

Correction: the suicidal Mad Dog, apparently. 

"You said you wanted to die?" Callisto said, in front of her in a blink.

The woman snapped her head up, and there was split moment where her turquoise eyes were all he could see.

Red around the rims and a mad whirlwind of anger and heartbreaking sadness.

He blinked, taken aback by their intensity. 

"What do you want?" she exploded at him, either ignorant of who he was or brazen (foolish?) enough to not care.

"Can't you see that I'm having a very private mental breakdown? Get lost!"

Callisto nearly found himself bursting with laughter from the sheer absurdity of the situation. He was pretty sure that no one but the queen would ever have the gall to say such words towards him.

Out of spite, he sat right next to her on the bench.

The woman held nothing but contempt for him now, and shocked him by pulling her shoe off hitting him with it.

"Go away! Scram! Fuck off! Crawl back to hell where you came from!"

Okay, now Callisto laughing.

"Crawl back to hell, where did you learn this vocabulary!" he cackled madly.

The woman abandoned her shoe and began beating his back with her fists, barely packing any punch.

"Quit it! Move your ass someplace else!" she screamed, and then in a lower voice said, "Just leave me alone." 

Callisto stopped laughing, his grin quickly slipping. 

The Eckhart lady's face was still stained with tears. He reached out a hand out to brush them away, but when he moved to touch her face, she flinched. 

Not just a motion of her head or anything, but a full-body flinch. As if she was expecting to be hit.

Frowning, he took her face in with both of his hands, using his thumbs to wipe her tears.

She looked at him in surprise and confusion.

"Your reputation is so notorious that you're all I ever hear about when I return from the battlefield. So why is the wicked woman who spills no blood or tears so pitiful?"

She yanked her head away and stood up, glowering. "The wicked woman got sick of everything," she snapped before moving to leave the garden. "Not that it's any of your business."

Her gait was wobbly because she was missing a shoe.

Because he was generous and oh so forgiving, Callisto returned it by hurling it at her.

She responded by throwing both shoes this time, followed by a very sharp hairpin.

Callisto received the letter Cedric delivered with a smile on his face.

His secretary had an unsure expression. "Your highness, who exactly is that supposed to be from?" 

"My new pen pal, of course," the prince replied.

Cedric looked dumbfounded. Pen pal? You? his eyes said.

Slightly offended, Callisto waved him off.

There was a lot to say about its sender from the envelope alone. 

First of all, it wasn't even a new envelope, judging from the how aged and brown it was around the edges. 

Second, there were math equations scribbled on the back, as if someone used it as scratch paper.

Third, the wax seal wasn't stamped correctly. Callisto could barely make out the sliver of the rose crest of the Eckhart duchy in the corner of the wax.

Lastly (and what he found to be the most hilarious), was that his name wasn't spelled right. 

No wonder Cedric looked at it so weirdly. 

Die.  Stub your toe on the corner of a desk and just before it heals, stub it again. Die. Die. Die. Die. Die. Get a papercut between your fingers so you can't bandage it right. Hit your head and never wake up again.  Die.  Choke on bread. Keel over and die—

Now this was only half of was written on one side of the letter, crossed out but clearly still meant for Callisto to be able to read it.

How rude, he thought, and flipped it over to read the actual letter.

Does tormenting me with your nonstop threats make you feel better about your sad, lonely existence? My father and brothers have been hounding me about what I did to offend you, and I am on my last nerve.

Just tell me what you want and stop contacting me already.

After a moment of consideration, Callisto called for Cedric again.

"Send an invitation to the Eckharts for the next imperial banquet," he said cheerfully.

"...Yes, your highness," Cedric replied, looking like he desperately wished for some alcohol.

If looks could kill, Callisto would've been long dead by now.

Weeks after their first meeting, he finally came face to face with the Eckhart lady at the Hunting Competition.

"Why the long face, my lady?" he said, not fighting the grin that made its way to his face. "You haven't shown up to any of the parties I invited you to. I'm hurt. Could it be that you didn't wish to see me?"

"Yes." 

"Well, I did."

"I. Could. Tell," the Eckhart lady said through gritted teeth. "You inbred lizard." 

Callisto went on pretending he didn't hear her. "Anyways, haven't you heard the rumors that have been circulating around us? That you were seen leaving the maze garden, with the myself following mere minutes after?" 

He leaned in, aware of the many eyes on them. The woman immediately picked up a glass of wine from the table and brought it to her lips, forcing distance between them.

Callisto raised an eyebrow.

"People have been whispering of an affair between the Mad Dog of Eckhart and the bloodthirsty bastard of the empire."

She scoffed. "So what do you want me to do? Dispell them?" She turned a calculating eye on him. "You should really keep a closer eye on the queen, you know? It's dangerous when they are right under your nose."

Callisto stiffened. "What are you..."

The woman casually tipped her head back, and he tracked her gaze to the robed shamans of Satina.

They collectively flinched before hurriedly looking away.

That wasn't suspicious. Not at all.

"Lady Eckhart, are you trying to say that—," Callisto turned back to her before realizing she was already walking away.

"I was done with today, but today wasn't done with me," she muttered as she left, but not before harshly bumping shoulders with one of the shamans, giving them a cold glare.

Callisto had five seconds to process what the woman had said, before he began to approach the table.

"Good evening, guests from Satina," he greeted amicably, but with his sword drawn out, there was little chance that things would go peacefully.

The banquet ended with a bang, the disguised members of the Leila kingdom thrown into the dungeons, and a new lead on the queen's schemes.

And Callisto had a very prickly woman with turquoise eyes to thank for that.

"I have half a mind to hire assassins of my own," Penelope said dryly.

"Why?" Callisto asked cheekily, pretending to be innocent.

"Because I was forced to be here, yet again." 

"Your harsh words cut deeper than any assassin," he replied while rolling his eyes. "Can't you be nicer to me? It's my birthday."

"That's why I haven't hired a random woman to burst in and claim she's pregnant with your spawn, be grateful."

"Such kindness you have bestowed upon me." 

Is she being serious? he thought privately. He really couldn't tell.

"Oh, and I did bring something." Penelope tipped her head at the box in her hands.

Callisto raised a brow. "Is it poison?" 

Without missing a beat she replied, "Wine."

"Really?"

"Yes," she deadpanned. "It's the one the duke has been saving for some years now."

"And he gave it to you?" Callisto said. He was amazed, astounded.

"No, I stole it."

He took back his amazment. But then he remembered who's hands the prized wine was in and straightened his posture.

"Gimme."

"No."

"Hello, Cedric. Bastard," Penelope said, looking beautifully tired. She took one look at his couch and fell into it face-first.

Cedric looked at her worriedly.

"You look worse than usual," Callisto drawled, putting away the sword he was in the middle of sharpening.

"Aaaahhhhh," came the muffled sound.

Callisto quirked a brow. "What's wrong with you?" 

Penelope lifted her head up and leveled him with a severe glare. "I just took a ten minute detour on stealth mode because the queen is trying to meet me."

Callisto and Cedric were suddenly on their feet.

"What!" they shouted.

Penelope groaned again as she rubbed her eyes. "Yeah, she keeps sending invitations for me to come and have tea. Tea. I've been snubbing her, of course." 

"Has she done anything else?" Cedric asked urgently.

"No. She's likely nervous because it seems like the Eckharts are siding with Callisto after years of staying neutral."

"Because of us? Hah! I feel like you're closer to joining her than me," Callisto joked.

"Don't lump me with her," Penelope grumped.

Cedric sighed. "At the very least, please be wary from now on, my lady. We don't know if this is all the queen will try to do."

"No need to tell me twice."

"I have a question," Callisto said, "What did the Eckharts try to ground you for this time?"

"Ugh, it's because Derrick is such a whiny little bitch baby."

"Your highness!" Cedric burst into his office, breathless.

"What happened?" he demanded, alert.

Cedric's face was stricken with fear. "Lady Penelope was attacked on the way to the palace by bandits! They set her carriage on fire!"

Callisto was already gone.

There were people trying to pull her out of the broken, flaming carriage when he got there.

"MOVE!" he yelled, pushing his way into the front. 

"Your highness, it's dangerous!"

He didn't care.

"Penelope! Get back from the door!"

Callisto cut down the jammed door and prepared to throw himself into the carriage, but a charred, burnt body tumbled out before he could.

He hadn't been fast enough.

Her skin, face, body were covered in horrible burns, marred and bleeding to the point that Callisto could tell it was her only by the color of her hair that hadn't been burnt away.

No. 

He gently lifted her head, cradling it in his hands.

"Hey," he whispered, his voice breaking. "Wake up. You aren't dead, so wake up." 

Her eyelids remained closed.

"Please? I promise I won't make fun of you anymore, I swear. Just wake up. I won't complain even if you hit me."

It was hard to tell, whether she died from the smoke or the burns. Her mouth was open, as if she had been screaming.

It was clear she died slowly, in agony. 

Callisto's hand hovered on her cheek, tracing the tears tracks on her face.

Penelope died crying.

And

Callisto

screamed.

Chapter Text

The creepy sensation of spiders crawling down her back settled over Penelope.

She looked between the exit and the magic circle, unsure of how to proceed.

The answer came to her on its own when she and Ivonne whipped their heads around to find the dumbass of the century peering his head out of the tunnel entrance. 

Rendered speechless by Callisto's absolute audacity, Penelope could only lift her arms in a what the fuck? gesture. 

In hindsight, it shouldn't have been surprising, but still!

The prince, not even the slightest bit ashamed, turned up his chin haughtily.

"Your highness," Penelope started slowly, "Are you a masochist?"

"He's a virgin, Penny. Not experienced enough to know."

The said virgin's face flashed through the five stages of grief in the span of two seconds before settling into disgust. 

"I don't want to know what goes on in your head."

Penelope nodded sagely. "You really don't." 

Her eyes landed on the sword sheath (impromptu bullshit green mist container) hanging from Callisto's belt, and an idea formed. 

"Give me that."

"Might I know why?" he asked skeptically with narrowed eyes, but handed it to her anyway 

She held the thing as far as her arm would allow. "I want to see if this is what I think it is."

She crouched, doing her best to ignore the ominous whispers that surged back with a vengeance.

She carefully pulled back the cloth that sealed the sheath. Green mist spilled out, swiftly swallowing up the ground.

Penelope leaped away just as Callisto yanked her back by the shoulders.

Ivonne's eyes widened as the gears in her head began to turn.

"No way, can something like that even exist?" she muttered.

The magic circle spat out sparks and bolts of lightning, forcing them to take cover.

"Get over here!" Callisto yelled as he dragged Penelope behind a boulder.

Only Ivonne was able to stay and see exactly what happened. 

The wind shrieked and noise assaulted their ears. There was one loud final boom before everything went quiet.

"Penny… come look at this," came Ivonne's shaky voice.

The magic circle was just... gone.

"Shit," Penelope whispered.

Callisto had a contemplative expression, not fully understanding. "It cancels magic?" 

"No. Not just that," Ivonne said grimly. "There's nothing of it left." 

"It purges magic completely," Penelope finished. "There's no sign that the circle existed whatsoever."

Callisto reached out to brush the black veins on her face. "So that's what this is? Purged magic?"

"I get it now," Ivonne muttered. "You reacted so badly because it was destroying the magic in your system. That's also why you couldn't see me until you removed the mist."

Penelope frowned. "It must be. The question is, how did a bunch of low-rate assassins get their hands on this?"

The half-healed wound on her chest began to ache, and she was reminded that they both needed medical help.

"Nevermind, let's just see what that skeleton has and leave."

As they got closer, Penelope felt a foreign stab of anger at the sight of it.

You deserve to suffer more.

You killed us. Tortured us.

How dare you. You shouldn't get to die so easily for what you did.

The voices were raged on. 

Ivonne stuck close, unnerved. "I bet these are actual ghosts. Something real bad must've happened for them to be so angry."

Right, Penelope forgot that Ivonne wasn't technically a ghost. Her form was a projection of her soul, her physical body was still considered to be "alive".

They hung back as Callisto swung his sword in an arc and cut off the skeleton's arms, catching the scrolls before they hit the ground.

Penelope tapped on the bones of the fingers and made it dissolve, leaving only the scrolls.

Callisto rolled one open, and then shoved it in front of her face with an urgent look.

All at once, color drained from her face. She snatched the scroll—the map, and scanned every inch of it.

"Valka," she whispered. There was no doubt about it. "What's the other one?"

Two maps. One of an ancient Leila kingdom and another a teleportation device.

Now realizing the identity of the skeleton—Leila—Penelope twisted around to give it a vicious kick to the ribs.

The blow caused it to explode into fine bits of powder. She crushed the skull under her heel, and spat on it without any remorse.

"An attempt to invade the palace, if the scrolls are anything to go off of," Ivonne said, quickly piecing the clues together. "The spell backfired, obviously, killing its caster.

"The Leila aren't above human experimentation. These voices must've been the people who were sacrificed for the spell."

On que, the voices let out a piercing howl.

Penelope shivered. Who knows how long they've been trapped for. 

Ivonne pointed to the edge of the map. "Go here, it's just outside the forest," she said. 

After confirming with Callisto, Penelope readied the spell. She cast one last look around the cave.

Your enemy is my enemy. Find rest, I'll take it from here.

A bright light engulfed them, and when they opened their eyes, they were in the forest again.

A wave of nausea slammed into Penelope, making her stumble. Apparently, the green mist wasn't completely out of her system yet.

She made a face. "Damn, I think I'm gonna faint."

The urge to throw up grew even greater when Callisto threw her over his shoulder and raced to the edge of the forest where a group of people (knights, perhaps) were gathered.

As soon as they were sighted, there were frantic yells and calls for help.

On the verge of blacking out, Penelope made bleary eye-contact with Callisto's bitchy step-uncle. 

He looked shocked by the sight of them, as if he'd been expecting them to be dead.

Oh, you sly little bastard. 

The last thing she did before passing out was to give him a shaky middle finger.

When Penelope finally came to, she was in an infirmary bed, and under the scrutiny of a pair of eyes.

This was normal, Ivonne often greeted her in the morning like this. It was kinda cute, like how you would wake up to a cat sitting on your chest.

Except those eyes weren't blue and Penelope was already punching them away as she violently relived the memories of those eyes being the last thing she saw before dying.

There was a loud crashing sound as her assailant fell to the floor. She leaped out of bed with her fist reared and—

A hulking man appeared out of nowhere and yanked the assailant out of the way by the foot, and placed himself between them.

"Woah, woah!" He held up his hands in a harmless manner. "It's okay, Little Penelope, you're safe! It's just me and Iklies. I promise that no one's gonna hurt you."

Her heart thumped loudly in her ears like a bird in a cage, but her senses began to return.

"Alec?" she gasped, hating the way her voice wobbled.

"Yup, and also Iklies. He didn't mean to scare you."

Yeah, that did look like the one and only rat-haired traitor. Didn't mean to my ass. 

But tension leaked from her frame anyway as she flopped back onto the bed. She threw one arm over her eyes as her head began to pound.

"So first of all," she pointed towards Iklies' general direction, "never pull that shit again unless you want an extra hole in your ass. Second of all, get me a glass of water because this headache is gonna kill me."

They scrambled to follow her instructions. Alec went the extra mile and got her some painkillers from the cabinets and helped her down it as he filled her in on what happened since their dramatic return.

Callisto had passed out minutes after her, but managed to hand over an item that had allowed the imperial knights to investigate and conduct a short trial to jail the ones responsible for the assassins.

"It was a knife with Marquess Allen's signature on it. The evidence is clear, but…"

"But he'll get away with it in the end," she finished, unsurprised.

Alec winced. "Most likely. The knife had a decoration which belonged to Baron Tullet's fiancee, so the blame went to them. They even tried to frame you for attempted murder against the crown prince."

"That is something they'll never be able to prove."

He laughed good-naturedly.

Iklies added quietly, "Tullet's dead, and his fiancee kicked up a fuss about it."

"And now she's kicking up a fuss in jail," Penelope snorted. "Serves her right. Did you know that she tried to serve me insects at the tea party she hosted last competition? Nasty woman."

"So that's why you threatened her with a crossbow," Alec said understandingly.

A shrug. "Eh, mostly. I might've just shoved my fist down her throat otherwise. A crossbow seemed like it'd have lesser consequences."

"Is that why you stopped being a noble? Because of the harassment?"

That was an incredibly suspicious question coming from the traitor. 

"Because I couldn't give less of a damn anymore," she corrected.

"Ah."

An awkward silence passed over them and Penelope stared into the reflection of her half empty glass. She noted that the black marks had completely faded. That was good.

She wondered where her ever faithful companion was, and tried to not feel anxious. 

Ivonne wouldn't have left for no good reason. She'll be back soon. 

Ivonne was a spectral on a mission: to find everything she could about the origins of the green mist.

She retraced her steps back to the forest where Penny was attacked to look for clues.

Her eyes combed through the grass as she pondered. 

The assassins used the mist as a direct counter against Penny specifically, since that dumb prince didn't use magic.

But that still begged the question, where did they get their hands on such a dangerous thing? 

The only reasonable answer were the Leila cultists, and wasn't that a terrifying thought. The cunning queen in cohorts with the Leila.

There was something shining in the grass. Ivonne found it to be shards of glass reflecting the sun.

The remains of the bottles the assassins used, she realized. 

She stared hard at the glass shards before one piece in particular caught her eye. Squinting, she could make out a part of a word.

Garne, it read. 

Suddenly thrilled by the newfound clue, she flew around the area, hoping to find more pieces containing the rest of the words but to her frustration, found nothing more.

Garne... Garne... 

Nothing came to mind. Was it a name? Just a random glassblower's signature?

And then it hit her. A shop name! 

Ivonne zipped off, phasing through trees, people, and buildings until she left the palace grounds altogether and was in the middle of the bustling streets of the capital.

She began making a list of options to cross off.

Not anywhere near the centre, the cultists would want to remain as hidden from the public eye as possible. The Magic District in the outskirts of the city is the best place to start. 

After several hours of peering at store signs and scouring through cramped alleyways, Ivonne finally found it.

The building looked the same as the others around it; old, dusty windows, and a fair bit creepy.

Garnet's Herbs & Remedies. 

Chapter Text

"You never cease to amaze me," Penelope said, inspecting the shard of the glass bottle Ivonne discovered. "And you found the shop with just this bit of letters?"

Ivonne bobbed her head. "Yup!"

Holy heck, she's a genius. "This is great, let's go there right now."

It didn't take much effort to slip past the security and leave the palace grounds. Once they were out, the world became a blur of rooftops and handholds as they made their way to the outskirts of the city.

Penelope wasn't born here, where the buildings were crumbling and barely standing, she recalled from her faint childhood memories. 

Her mother was a (merchant? traveler?) woman who never really stayed in one place for long until she fell ill, and that's about as much as Penelope remembered. There was probably once a time when she knew more, but the time loops and her years in the duchy had all but buried those memories deep in her mind.

Shame. I can't even remember her name or face. 

"This is it," Ivonne said when they finally arrived in front of a rickety building with windows so dusty they couldn't see what was inside.

Penelope pulled her cloak hood over her head to hide her face, patted the dagger strapped to her thigh, and opened the door. 

A bell sound rang, and they entered.

The stark contrast from the outside was clear. The building looked like it'd fall apart any minute, but the inside of the shop was well kept and clean. You wouldn't think it was the same place.

"Magic," Penelope muttered.

"An enchantment," Ivonne clarified. "Cast on an object. There isn't someone actively using magic here."

"You can tell?"

"Kinda?"

"If you're not planning on buying something, get out," a voice interrupted, nearly causing Penelope to jump in surprise.

The owner was a tall woman with an unhealthy complexion. Her curly, rust-red hair was styled in an undercut, and her dark green eyes were shadowed by heavy bags.

Ḿ̶̫̣̗͙̦̽̕͘͝y̸̼͗̐̄ ̶̮̋̒̈́c̵͍̻̬̲̙͖͎̆h̸̞̲̀̀͂i̴̪͎̬͌̂l̶̘͚̺̭̖̰͆̓͑͑͝d̵̤̽̽͂́̄̃.̶̤̤͙͎̯͂̀̈̑́

Penelope felt a shiver run down her spine. The owner looked too much like herself for comfort.

Something ancient and old within her blood called out. Penelope didn't know what it meant.

She eventually regained her composure and said, "A bunch of assassins came here the other day for some explosives and magic-purging regents. Seems pretty illegal to be selling around so carelessly."

The woman crossed her arms and leaned against a potion shelf languidly. "Why? Here to arrest me?"

Penelope mirrored her expression, tilting her chin down and narrowing her eyes. "I've got every right to, seeing as I was the one who recieved a face full of all that."

The woman raised a brow. "So you're that 'damned wizard bitch'."

She shrugged. "Probably."

The woman hummed. Then she stared straight in Ivonne's direction. "And you? You were here yesterday, did you track me down?"

Penelope felt her blood freeze as her hands grew clammy and cold. She made eye contact with Ivonne who looked equally shocked.

"That's impressive, it's barely been a day," the owner continued, unaware.

Thorns shot from the ground and blocked all entries, and Penelope grabbed a fistful of the woman's shirt and slammed her against the wall. 

"Who are you," she growled, not noticing her hood had fallen off.

The woman thrashed, eyes brimming with fury until they landed on her hair.

"Is that you…" her emerald eyes grew wide, and she fell limp, "radish baby?"  

This day was officially a fever dream.

"So you're telling me," Penelope said after she'd let go of Garnet (if that even was her real name), "that you're my mom's cousin and babysat me since forever, until the Leila's people attacked our traveling group of super special wizards, and you apparently gave me the nickname radish baby?" 

"I feel like that's the part you're most stuck on."

"No! I was radish baby because of my HAIR?" 

"Yes, but really we should move our focus to your ghost friend—"

"RADISH BABY?"

"Give her a minute, she needs to get this out of her system."

"I see. And how long will that take?"

"A while. Anyways, I'm a victim of a body the Leila took over."

"...Right. I'm Garnet."

"Nice to meet you. We're stuck in a time loop."

"What."

"Don't worry, we'll find you next loop if things go awry."

"Aranisi, take me," Garnet whispered to herself.

"The gods must be against you," she said pityingly after they told her their story.

"Yup," Penelope agreed.

"The gods should fear me," Ivonne said darkly.

Garnet looked bemused. "Is that so."

She whispered, "Gods may judge you, but their sins outnumber your own."

The woman felt a deep, uncomfortable weight settle in her bones. The spectral knew something she didn't and she wasn't ready to find out.

"So how and why did you make those regents?" Penelope asked.

Garnet held back a scoff. "Tell me what you'd do in my place when a bunch of assassins allied with the Leila kicks my door down. I also hate imperial wizards in general. No offense though, I didn't know it was you."

Penelope waved it off. "Well, if you want to make it up to me… help me take down the status quo by busting some slave houses? And by some I mean all."

Garnet, to her credit, recovered relatively quickly as she grinned with all her teeth. "I like the way you think."

"I heard you got poisoned. Loser."

There was only one person in the world who could speak to the crown prince like that. 

Callisto wanted to get up and hit her, but he couldn't even muster the strength to open his eyelids.

"I know you're conscious. All you can do is just lay there and listen, huh?" A snort. "What a nice change of pace."

Through sheer spite, he managed to force himself to sleep. Unfortunately, Penelope’s torment didn't end there because she kept coming back.

"Undefeated crown prince who?"

"I'm bored so I'm gonna paint your nails. Pink, because black will make you look too edgy."

"Charlie gave me this face mask thing, and I think you could also use some skincare."

The eighth day was when things changed.

"Hypothetically speaking—," she began in between a game of shoving blueberries into his mouth to see how many she could fit in. They were were at blueberry #21 and Callisto wanted to die . 

"—if I were to take the previously enslaved illegitimate prince of a foreign nation you were ordered to colonize, go around freeing slaves without proper authorization, how long do you think you could hold back the emperor from issuing a kill-on-sight order on me? Hypothetically, of course."

Predictably, he couldn't say a word.

"Thanks. I knew I could count on you!" she said cheerfully, even daring to go as far as patting his head.

He heard her leaving. Get back here! I am going to put you on house arrest as soon as I—

The door clicked shut.

DAMN YOU!  

"Your highness...?" It was Cedric. 

Oh, thank fuck.

"Why do you have blueberries spilling out of your mouth?"

He was going to kill Penelope.

The wicked woman must've sensed his intentions, because not even a day later, the news of the "Wizard Knight" vanishing had spread all over the palace, reaching even Callisto's ears. 

If I don't make it back within two months, assume the worst and use my paycheck for Charlie and Lucy's wedding. Don't try to look for me. Also, I'm taking the map.

The cruel woman didn't wait for him to be able to see her off, or even add any sweet words to her farewell. Not that he expected her to, but it would've been nice for all the shit she put him through.

What he didn't know was that she had taken the ex-slave man she'd brought in a few weeks prior with her.

"This is kidnapping."

"I am above the law, so not really."

"But it's game night. Charlie brought the Good Chips."

"You can play when we're done with this."

"Yeah, you haven't explained that either."

"Something illegal."

"I thought you were above the law."

"I'm gonna bust out every slave from every slavehouse, and you're gonna help me."

"You knew who I was, yet you placed me directly in the center of the empire where I could've caused the most damage. Why?" Iklies asked coldly.

Because I don't want to deal with you and the Leila at the same time, and you're the most useful person I can think of for this. 

"Well, I have a question for you, too," she said while racking her brain for something clever to say. "There were plenty of chances for you to kill many knights in their sleep. Why didn't you?" 

She was genuinely curious.

"I—," Iklies stuttered, taken aback, "I was . I just…"

Aha, she thought as the gears in her head clicked. "You're fond of them," she said smugly.

"No," he bristled.

She rolled her eyes. "Yes, because following Charlie, Lucy, and Alec around like a smitten little puppy doesn't mean you like them."

"It was self-preservation." 

"Then is it just my imagination when I recall Lucy trying to juggle you and Charlie with one hand?"

"Will you two cut it out?" Garnet snapped, done with their bickering.

Penelope elegantly clicked her mouth shut and Iklies fumed. 

"How do you do that?" he asked more quietly. 

"You'll have to be more specific, there are many things I can do," she mumbled back.

Iklies was the most expressive she'd seen him, and by that she meant his brows were slightly furrowed and the corners of his mouth was set grimly. 

"You see through me like glass, no one's been able to do that before. You act careless, but you're constantly on guard around me, like I'm a threat."

She shrugged, deciding to humor him. "It takes crazy to know, I guess."

"I'm not like you," he replied indignantly.

"Sure, sure." She got up and stretched when she saw Ivonne's head pop out of the walls, holding up three fingers on her right hand and five on her left. 

Thirty-five in total. I can do that. 

"Time to break them out."

Garnet nodded, and slipped down the roof to her designated position. 

"You're planning a revolt. That must be it. You'll use me and my status as a figurehead to command the slaves as soldiers—"

Penelope hurled a loose brick at him to shut him up. 

In the dark, thornless vines slowly sprouted from the ground. They stealthily crept up the legs of the guards, remaining undetected until they shot out to coil tightly around their throats like snakes.

The guards began to choke, clawing at necks, when from the vines, sharp thorns violently jutted out, piercing their arteries.

Those who didn't die instantly fell and writhed on the floor. The thorns embedded in their throats twisted and tore themselves out, taking good chunks of flesh with them.

Blood gushed from their wounds.

The remaining vines dragged the corpses into the shadows, leaving large paths of blood behind, the only sign of anything ever happening.

Ivonne swooped around once more to check if any had somehow escaped, then turned around and nodded. 

Penelope returned the gesture. 

The coast was clear.

Her steps were quiet as she ran her hands along the metal bars that caged the people inside them, and the bars decayed and crumbled under her fingers.

Gasps echoed around her. 

In the dark, several shapes moved, and Penelope saw the dim light reflecting off their eyes that trembled with fear and desperate hope.

Penelope walked up to the group non-threateningly, and slowly lifted her hands. 

"I'm going to break your chains," she said softly. "Will you let me get closer to you?"

There was some shuffling, and then a young girl with grey-blue hair came to her, as far as her chains would let her, and lifted her shaking arms.

"Please," she sobbed.

Penelope reached out and tapped the bands around her wrists, and they crumbled into a pile of ash, revealing the harsh ring of bruises on her skin. She crouched down to undo the ones on her feet as well.

The girl tested her limbs.

She cried.

One by one, Penelope destroyed every damned chain.

"There's a woman with red hair waiting outside, she'll take you somewhere safe."

"Wait," one man said hesitantly. "The basement underground, it's a gladiator ring," he fumbled with his words.

"I am aware," she replied. "I've already sent my accomplice there."

The man nodded and followed the rest out.

When their backs fully disappeared, her expression grew blank, and a small flame came to life with a flick of her finger. 

The light provided her with the sight of the piles of murdered guards.

She set the bodies ablaze and watched as the flames consumed them, releasing the smell of burning flesh into the air. 

Burn in hell, bastards.  

She clicked her tongue and made her way down the basement with Ivonne. The door was already left ajar by Iklies.

The smell of rot hit their noses first.

"They're all dead. Have been for a long time." He stared at her with his ever emotionless eyes. 

"Shame." Penelope lifted her chin and regarded him coolly. "You seem to have a lot you want to say. So either speak now or we move on."

Predictably, he didn't say anything.

"I'm bored," Garnet groaned as she threw another explosive vial down upon the waves of guards who frantically tried to get away from the demented thorn-wielding wizard. "I wanna kill Leila."

"Me too," Ivonne said sympathetically. "Let's beat her ass together."

"Sounds great."

Iklies, who was with them raining arrows upon their enemies, said, "Who the hell are you talking to?"

"Up there! Fire!" 

Garnet sent a smirk towards Ivonne. "Hey, watch this." 

She gathered magic into her mouth—the guards readied their bows—and released a great gust of wind that either threw the arrows off course or snapped them mid-flight. 

Whoa, Ivonne thought. Her stomach tingled. She's cool. 

Garnet barked a rough laugh as she swept her rust-colored curls back with one hand. 

And hot? Ivonne backtracked. She needed a moment to think about this.

SOMEWHERE FAR TO THE EAST OF EORKA

The village, for once, was blissfully quiet. No sounds of spells misfiring or potions exploding. 

Just a nice, peaceful night.

Soon, child.

A young girl jerked awake. “What?”

Be ready, my lost child will return soon.

She scrambled out of bed, running to her mother’s room. “Mommy! Wake up, Aranisi told me that she is coming soon!”

The woman groaned. "Aranisi, help me—Cassie, love, you said the same thing last week. And last month.”

Cassandra whined. “But my visions are real!”

“Love, can we please talk in the morning?”

She scowled. “Fine.”

But Cassandra didn’t return to her room. Instead, she snuck out of the house, hiking to the cliff behind it. She climbed the huge olive tree, settling herself on a sturdy branch to wait for the sunset.

“No one believes me,” she whispered. “But I know you’re real.”

The night breeze swept through her hair, as though it were fondly ruffling her head.

“I’ll be waiting to welcome you home, Penelope.”