2: A Servant of Many

                                    

                                          
"Excuse me?"
                          
Penelope wiped her eyes. "Close the door."
                          
Maren frowned, marching for the door and casting a cautious glance through the hall. Lady Juniper's hips switched as she carried laundry at the end of the way, but it hadn't seemed like she heard anything. Softly, she closed the door and pressed her back to it.
                          
"Lady Penelope, are you out of your mind?" Had anyone overheard she could have been punished for speaking informally. But she was so dumbfounded that there didn't seem like any better way to respond.
                          
Penelope shrugged. "The invitation is designated for me and I decline. It's that simple."
                          
Even with the room closed off, she lowered her voice as she approached. "But your parents--,"
                          
"Won't know if I'm gone too. I can leave at the same time, except my carriage will take me to Nathaniel. The carriage you get into will head to the Beast prince." Penelope spoke matter-of-factly. With all the confidence of a lady of privilege and a tinge of rebellion. Her sadness from earlier faded away, replaced with a steely gaze and an adamant tone.
                          
"The Beast Prince?" Maren craned her neck hoping it would help her hear the nonsense better. "He's one of the Fire Fae. He has a crown and a kingdom."
                          
Penelope scoffed. "And that is supposed to make him less of a beast?"
                          
Maren let that sink in, surprised that it was deeper than she expected from Penelope. The noble girl continued, "I have fought for Nathaniel and a future with him. I'm not giving that up."
                          
So I am supposed to give up my mine?
                          
Maren didn't ask it aloud, but she let herself feel the implications of that. A meaning between the lines.
                          
Penelope said, "Can you pour me a cup of tea?"
                          
Before her mind could carry her away, Maren grabbed the tea pot. It trembled in her shaking hands. "Of course."
                          
Those blue eyes locked on the side of her face. Soon enough, a cup of lukewarm tea sat before the noble girl and Maren added two sugar cubes because that was how Penelope liked it. Her mistress said, "It's good that we're the same age. You're skinnier than I am, though. A lot skinnier. There's also the matter of your darker complexion and dark hair."
                          
Maren trained her frustration, clasping her hands before her lap like that would keep a lock on it. "Your point, Lady?"
                          
"Well, you'd need something to wear. Also, everyone knows what I look like." Penelope shrugged, waving away her own concern. "But I suppose it wouldn't matter since you might not even get picked."
                          
Maren wasn't sure if she was offended by that or not.
                          
"He is choosing for himself who he'd like to take away--,"
                          
"And why can't I choose?" Maren blurted. She didn't know where it came from, the defiance, but it didn't feel like going away. "I never agreed to any of this. There are other maids in this house. Don't I have a say?"
                          
Penelope raised an eyebrow. A tad slowly, she took a sip from her teacup and hesitated. Like she had to pick the right words. "I... suppose you do." The girl put her cup back onto the saucer and softened her expression. "Mare, I would not ask you if I didn't trust you. You've been my most trusted friend since children. We're like sisters." 
                          
Perhaps once, but they could never be sisters now.
                          
Maren shook her head, the rush of emotions far too much. "What if he did pick me?" 
                          
Penelope scoffed. "I would never let you stay there. Don't even think like that." She leaned forward, her voice boiling down to a whisper. "Here's the thing. I need to marry Nathaniel, and it won't take long. A few days, give or take. As soon as his ring sits on my finger, he and I will come for you and we'll bring you home."