"No, his summons can wait."

Vincent’s flat, uncompromising response had both Elias and Penelope freezing in their steps. Elias’s eyes widened in visible panic, while Penelope stared at her husband as if he had momentarily lost all sense of reasoning.

He turned back to Penelope, utterly unmoved by her reaction. "I already promised you last night that I would be there for you, and I intend to keep that promise. Everything else comes after. I bet it’s not as serious as it seems."

As much as Penelope felt a warm, fluttering pull in her chest at his words, another part of her also found them incredibly, recklessly stupid.

"You cannot simply refuse a royal summons," she explained, her voice dropping to a sharp, urgent whisper. "If His Majesty sent his personal envoys to retrieve you, then it must be serious. Look, I am perfectly fine with this. I would much rather you accompany them to the palace and attend to His Majesty."

"I don’t have to," he replied stubbornly.

"But you must," she insisted, placing a hand against his arm to force him to listen. "I can take care of myself. Besides, it is not as though I am traveling alone. I shall have your elite guards accompanying me. You should obey your king and go."

Her heart pounded uneasily as a fresh layer of anxiety settled over her shoulders.

If he openly defied a royal summons merely to escort her, it would give his political enemies the perfect ammunition to drag him into another storm of scandal and suspicion. And Penelope refuses to become the reason for his ruin.

Vincent opened his mouth to refute once more, but when he saw the genuine, anxious plea in her eyes, he exhaled a long, defeated sigh.

"Fine," he agreed, much to Penelope’s and Elias’s immense relief. "But... on one condition. You must take Elias with you as well."

"What?!" The two of them uttered in perfect unison.

Elias was obviously against the idea, and he didn’t even attempt to hide the sheer bewilderment in his face. For all these years, Elias had been Vincent’s shadow. He had never followed, served, or protected anyone else if it did not concern his master directly, so why on earth was the Marquis suddenly suggesting this?

"Elias," Vincent turned to him. "Aside from Martha, you’re the next person in this world I can trust to keep her safe. Go with her, and ensure that no harm comes to her while she is there. Once I am done at the palace, I’ll meet you all there."

As much as Elias was still internally protesting the arrangement, he could not defy the absolute weight of his master’s faith in him. He closed his eyes for a brief second, swallowing his objections, before bowing deeply.

"As you wish, My Lord."

******

The journey to the Viremont estate had lasted till noon.

Inside the carriage, Penelope could not help but ponder on Elias’s intense reluctance to accompany her. The stiff, silent tension radiating from the man riding out on a horseback beside them was palpable even through the wooden walls.

She looked at Martha who was seated directly across from her. "Martha, for how long have the Marquis and Elias been working together? His Lordship seems to hold him in extremely high regard."

Martha blinked at the question, her expression shifting into something thoughtful as she tried to recall what she knew.

"From what I’ve heard from the older staff, Sir Elias and the Marquis have been childhood companions," she replied. "He was appointed as His Lordship’s personal retainer when they were still young, so you could say they practically grew up together on the training grounds."

Penelope blinked, genuinely surprised, before understanding slowly settled deep within her. Her eyes lowered to her lap.

"That explains it, no wonder he trusts Elias so deeply," she murmured softly. "He has remained by his side through everything, unwavering in his loyalty." A faint smile tugged at her lips, though it carried a trace of sadness. "I suppose I can understand why Elias does not think highly of me as his Marchioness. I have caused his master far too much suffering."

Her gaze lifted back toward Martha. "You accepted me rather quickly, though."

"That’s because you saved His Lordship from public humiliation," Martha replied with her usual blunt honesty. "Sir Elias is fiercely protective of the Marquis, so he is naturally cautious. But he will come around, My Lady, and the others will as well. So please, do not trouble yourself over it."

Penelope offered a small nod, though her gaze drifted back toward the passing scenery outside the window.

Martha’s words were comforting, but she knew that earning the trust of the Marquis’s most loyal shadow would require far more than a simple change in attitude. It would require proving she was no longer the vulnerability that could destroy him.

Upon arriving at Rosehill, the crisp breeze of her home territory offered no comfort as the carriage neared her father’s grand manor.

Just as the gates came into view, a commotion near the entrance caught her attention. Several of the baron’s estate guards were gathered around a man, violently kicking and shoving him out onto the dirt road. Even the elite guards riding behind also sensed the commotion.

"Stop the carriage," she ordered firmly.

The driver pulled the reins, and the carriage came to a sudden stop. Martha looked toward Penelope in confusion, wondering what had prompted her sudden command, but Penelope’s eyes remained fixed outside the window.

"Get away from here, you madman!" one of the guards barked as he shoved the disheveled figure back into the dust without a care. "Haven’t I warned you to stay far away from this residence? Must we break your legs before you take our words seriously, you ugly peasant!"

The man looked no less than a commoner, his clothes worn and tattered, hanging loosely from his frail frame. Penelope could not bring herself to remain seated while they brutalized the poor man. If she does not step in, they might very well break his legs right there. 𝒻𝑟𝘦𝘦𝘸ℯ𝒷𝑛𝘰𝓋ℯ𝘭.𝘤𝘰𝘮

Ignoring proper protocol, she immediately pushed open the carriage door and got down.

"My Lady–" Martha began in alarm, but Penelope had already descended from the carriage.

Before one of the guards could swing the heavy wooden bat he was holding to strike the cowering, defenseless old man, a hand shot out and caught the weapon mid-strike.

"Huh?" Startled by the sudden resistance, the guard’s face twisted with rage. "Who dares–"

The words barely left his lips before he looked up, only to meet the cold, furious glare of Penelope. The color drained from his face as soon as he recognized her.

"You were saying?" she asked, her voice dangerously quiet.

"It’s– it’s you," the guard stammered, unable to conceal his disbelief, his eyes wide as he took in her magnificent sapphire gown and the undeniable aura of authority radiating from her. He had expected a random, nosy noble, not the baron’s newly married daughter. He had never imagined he would see her face within this estate again.

Yet what shocked him even more was her grip on the bat. Delicate as her hand appeared, it did not budge in the slightest.

He frowned.

"Does he look like some animal to you?" she reprimanded, wrenching the bat completely out of his hands with a sharp tug. "What could he possibly have done to warrant such disgusting treatment?"

"That man is sick in the head," the guard retorted stubbornly, defending his actions as he glared at the man on the ground like he was filth. "This old fool comes to the gates every single day. We have warned him repeatedly to stay away, but he keeps returning and causing a nuisance."

"And that is enough reason for you to beat him?" Penelope asked sharply, dismissing his excuse. "If I witness this behavior again, you will lose your position here. Do you understand?"

The guard and his fellow comrades fell silent. Back then, he had been accustomed to treating Penelope however he pleased. No one within the manor had cared enough to intervene.

But things were different now.

He looked past her to see she had not come alone, and that sent a chill down his spine.

Meanwhile, the trembling old man, as if only now realizing that the blows had stopped, slowly removed his scarred hands from where they had been shielding his face.

The bright sunbeams messed with his vision, forcing him to blink rapidly. But once his vision steadied, his eyes widened to the size of saucers. The familiarity of the woman standing before him, defending him from the guards, settled deep into his chest. He stared at her as though he could not believe exactly who he was seeing.

It... it cannot be.

"It’s you..."

The words slipped out unexpectedly from the man’s cracked lips. The moment they did, he slapped his rough palm over his mouth to silence himself in pure terror, but it was too late. Penelope had already heard it.

She turned to face the man, her expression instantly softening from furious to gentle as she knelt slightly to kindly help him up to his feet. Now that she got a closer look at his weathered, tear-streaked face, she noticed that he was staring at her in absolute disbelief, his lips trembling.

"...Are you alright?" she asked softly, her voice filled with genuine concern.

The man didn’t answer. Instead, he shook his head, frantically darting his eyes away from her face as if looking at her caused him physical pain.

"I’m... I’m sorry," he whispered, his voice cracking with an emotion Penelope couldn’t quite place.

And with that, he suddenly turned on his heels and fled, stumbling over his own feet as he ran down the dirt road as fast as his old legs could carry him.

Penelope stood there, completely bewildered, watching his retreating figure kick up small clouds of dust in his desperate haste. The elite guards looked at the running figure then at her, as if wondering if she needed them to catch the civilian, but Penelope simply shook her head. It would be of no use considering she had no idea exactly who he was.

But why was he apologizing?

What was he sorry for?

Why did he look at her as if he had seen a ghost?

"See?" The guard suddenly spoke up, eagerly using the man’s bizarre behavior to his advantage to save his own skin. "I told you he was a madman, My Lady. He doesn’t make any sense."