As expected, Penelope had made several mistakes while dancing. She’d come dangerously close to stepping heavily on Viscount Elrn’s foot more than once.
Her second dance, with Rianel, began with the next piece of music.
They exchanged a few words as they danced before she suddenly vomited blood. The punch she had received from the servant had been laced with poison.
"After that, Ahwin appeared... Did they catch the assassin?"
"They did. The pursuit of the mastermind is underway," came Ahwin’s voice out of nowhere.
Penelope froze.
"..."
Turning her head, she saw Ahwin standing with his arms crossed, staring down at her with a disapproving expression.
‘When did he even get here? I didn’t sense him at all.’
"I’ve been watching all night," he said, as if reading her thoughts.
"Ah... Did I ask that out loud?"
"Your eyes made it obvious enough, so I answered," he replied.
Penelope pressed her lips shut. Both Rianel and Ahwin were far too perceptive for her liking.
Clicking his tongue, Ahwin spoke again.
"When you drank the first glass, your body must have shown some signs of rejecting it. Did you not notice anything?"
"It was a drink with red wine in it, so I thought I was just tipsy..." Penelope mumbled, her voice small and apologetic.
Ahwin’s expression made it clear he was incredulous.
"You thought you were just tipsy after consuming poison strong enough to drop an elephant with a single drop? What exactly is your digestive system made of?"
"..."
An elephant? She vaguely remembered hearing something similar the previous night. Penelope furrowed her brow, trying to recall.
Unfortunately for her, Ahwin wasn’t done scolding.
"If you hadn’t been drinking the potion for the past month, building up a resistance to poisons, you’d be a cold corpse by now."
‘So... I really almost died...’
The absurdity of it all felt surreal. Penelope lowered her gaze, feeling dejected, her lower lip sticking out in a pout.
Ahwin’s tone turned sharper.
"From now on, don’t drink anything at banquets. Better yet, don’t leave this house for the time being."
"Fine, fine, I get it..."
"You’re too careless about everything. It doesn’t even occur to you that someone might want to harm you. You need to be more vigilant—"
"I said I get it!" Penelope snapped, her voice rising.
Ahwin blinked in surprise.
Her eyes brimmed with unshed tears, and her lips quivered as she spoke.
"Do you really have to scold someone who was already terrified from almost dying?"
"Wait... are you crying because of what I said?"
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"Do you think drinking something at a ball was such a terrible mistake? It’s not like I committed a crime worthy of death! And now you’re just yelling at me... It’s unfair..."
Penelope’s tears spilled over as she angrily rubbed at her eyes with the back of her hand. Crying in front of Ahwin felt like a blow to her pride, but she couldn’t stop the flow of emotions.
The fear from the previous night, combined with Ahwin’s harsh words, left her feeling overwhelmed.
"Sniff..."
Penelope let out a quiet sob, her shoulders trembling.
Ahwin, visibly flustered, looked around as if searching for something. Unable to find a handkerchief, he used the back of his hand to gently wipe away her tears.
"Don’t cry. I was just worried about you... I didn’t sleep all night because I was scared something might happen to you."
"You were? Thank you... sniff..."
"Then why are you still crying?"
"Because I almost died!" Penelope shot back, her voice trembling but clear.
Ahwin sighed deeply, his frustration evident.
"I made you drink that potion for a month to prepare for something like this."
"You said it was medicine, not poison!"
"It was poison, actually."
Penelope sniffled and glared at him, her lips trembling with indignation.
"You made me drink poison?!"
"Well, you survived, didn’t you?" Ahwin avoided her gaze, his response unapologetic.
Penelope’s hands curled into fists, shaking with a mix of betrayal and rage.
She had endured a month of nausea while taking what she thought was a health potion packed with beneficial ingredients. To find out it was actually poison?
‘There’s no one in this world worth trusting.’
Penelope bitterly reflected on this newfound truth as she turned away, burying her head into her pillow with a groan.
But Ahwin’s reaction was unexpected. Normally, he would try to soothe her anger. This time, however, she heard his labored breathing behind her, as if he were struggling to contain his own frustration.
"So, you don’t think I deserve an explanation either, do you?" he said, his voice low and tense.
"..."
Penelope flinched but refused to turn back to look at Ahwin. Undeterred, Ahwin used magic to lift her effortlessly and spun her around in midair.
“He flipped me over with magic?”
Penelope stared at him, her expression incredulous. Ahwin wasted no time and demanded, "Do you remember dancing with Rianel last night?"
"..."
"And on top of that, you danced your first dance with another man?"
"..."
Penelope avoided his piercing gaze. It had been a dance she had gotten swept into by the atmosphere, but she hadn’t expected it to have such a dramatic impact on Ahwin.
"Well, I... I thought refusing wasn’t an option at a ball. It was just proper etiquette, nothing more," she mumbled, her voice trailing off.
Ahwin looked genuinely appalled.
"Do you have rocks flowing through your veins instead of blood? How can anyone be so oblivious?"
Rocks instead of blood? That was possibly the harshest insult he had ever thrown at her.
Her frustration bubbled over.
"Everyone else was freely dancing! I really thought declining wasn’t an option. And besides, why go to a ball if you’re not going to dance? Balls are meant for nobles to dance together, aren’t they?"
"..."
Ahwin was momentarily speechless. He couldn’t find any flaw in her reasoning.
Feeling triumphant, Penelope lifted her chin slightly.
Ahwin pressed his lips together before speaking with resolute determination. "Then dance with me."
Penelope’s eyes widened.
"You don’t even attend balls, Ahwin."
"Doesn’t matter. Dance with me anyway."
Ahwin was unrelenting.
The idea of dancing with someone who didn’t even attend balls was absurd, but it was Ahwin, after all. Somehow, it felt oddly fitting for him.
On second thought, not dancing with Ahwin while having danced with Rianel did seem unfair. If she were in his place, she might feel a bit slighted too.
"Fine. If the opportunity comes, I’ll dance with you. But we’ll need music," she replied.
"Good. That’s a promise," Ahwin said firmly, as if sealing a contract.
"Alright," Penelope agreed with a nod. Only then did Ahwin’s expression soften into a satisfied smile.
At that moment, a soft knock echoed through the room. Penelope couldn’t hide the smile tugging at her lips. She knew only one person who knocked so quietly.
"Come in, Sane."
"..."
"Can I come in?"
"Of course."
A moment later, Sane peeked his head through the door. His dark brown hair swayed gently, revealing his youthful face.
Sane glanced between Penelope and Ahwin hesitantly before stepping into the room. He carried a tray holding chicken soup and juice.
Penelope quickly reached out her hands in alarm.
"You’re going to trip—give it here."
"I’m fine. I can carry it," Sane replied sturdily, placing the tray on the bedside table before looking at Penelope with pale blue eyes filled with concern.
Penelope felt a wave of warmth at his thoughtfulness, accompanied by a small question.
"How did you open the door while holding the tray?"
"Giselle opened it for me."
"I see. Thank you so much. I was starving."
"Giselle said you need to chew carefully and not eat too fast. She said it might upset your stomach if you rush."
"I’ll keep that in mind."
Reassured, Sane nodded and relaxed.
Penelope picked up the spoon and took a sip of the chicken soup. Its rich, savory flavor hinted at chicken and vegetables simmered for a long time. It wasn’t overly seasoned, just comforting.
Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed Ahwin watching her. Raising her brow, she asked, "Why are you looking at me like that?"