2. Penelope
Penelope
“We start small. Not an event. Nothing planned. It’s a short walk to the twenty-four-hour bakery on the corner.
There are a handful of reporters outside waiting to see if I make an exit.
I keep four men with me—Able, Mark, Kip, and Steven.
It’ll take ten minutes to get there. Not only does it make a statement to those watching, but we might get lucky and draw them out.
At least enough to mark them so we can start tracking to see who they are.
” I kept the emotion from my face as I took in the guards. “And if we’re lucky, she’ll appear.”
Able was just as serious as me as he gave a stiff nod.
“It’s smart. I approve.”
“I’ll grab my purse.”
His mouth parted. “Ms. Penelope, it was a test to gauge whether you were capable of making decisions on your wellbeing.”
“And you said I passed. I want to go to the bakery and get a muffin. Marian and I went every day at two o’clock. I’m almost four hours late.”
The men looked amongst themselves, shrugging and turning their attention to their leader, Able, who seemed to think about it. Finally, he nodded.
“It will make a statement like you mentioned, and we’ll have to pass the other team’s townhome along the way.
It’s a good option in case something goes wrong, not to mention they’ll have an aerial view.
I’ll notify them. A few can take their place in the bakery and along the way.
The others can stay put. It’ll be a good exercise if all goes well. Mark, call and prepare them.”
Did I want to smile? Yes. Did I give in? No. The hesitation alone was enough to stop me. It wasn’t time to smile. It was time to prove myself, which is exactly what I’d been doing now for days. To have Vaughn, to live a life with him, safety and strategy were nonnegotiable.
This wasn’t a simple walk to the bakery. Life wasn’t simple anymore. It wasn’t meant to be.
I was a target. That would never end so long as I was with Vaughn. He needed a queen, and I needed to prove that I had what it took to step into that role.
“It’s settled. A muffin run will at least give Rose a break from baking. I should really hire some more help. I think she could use it.”
“Noted,” Able said, following me out of the training room to head downstairs. “We have trusted connections for this sort of thing. I’ll call The Reeve when we return so that he can reach out to our contacts.”
“Perfect.”
I slowed as we made it to the foyer, taking my time. My brow creased, and I turned, looking at the group of men who were making their way down the stairs.
“You mentioned the other townhome having an aerial view. Should we be doing that too? What if someone sees us leave and tries to break in or—"
Able pointed to the top of the landing. “Damon and Jorge’s job is to stay on top of surveillance. The rest will pull guard, two on each floor until we return.”
“That works.” I reached over, grabbing my small purse that was resting on the table near the entrance.
The four guards stepped in, but it was Able who tilted his head and met my stare.
“Remember your lessons on answering the press. Keep it short. If anyone attempts anything, you do not react. You leave it to us. Only fight if you have no choice. Never let anyone know what you’re capable of.
What they don’t suspect is what will be their downfall.
You’re Penelope.” His voice was calm. “Passive. Quiet. Victim. Let them believe that,” he continued.
“Let them doubt and underestimate you. What they don’t see or know… is what will destroy them.”
I took a deep inhale, nodding as I stared at the door.
They were out there. Not many, but enough.
The press. Maybe SLB in the distance.
Waiting.
I wasn’t a mystery to society; I was a question they hadn’t gotten answers to.
I was the taken. The daughter to a title long gone—a duchess if the king willed it.
Penelope Taylor was somebody. They had no idea just how true that was.
Heading for the door, I opened the barrier watching heads turn in my direction.
For seconds no one moved, almost as if they couldn’t believe what they were seeing.
Some pushed from their vehicles. Others stood taller.
As I walked down the stairs, they all headed in my direction at a steady pace.
My men quickly created space so they couldn’t get too close.
“Penelope—!”
“Where have you been?”
I glanced over as they tried to stay close but even.
“Away.”
“Are you safe now?”
I turned my stare forward. “I am.”
“Is it true you were under house arrest?”
“Did you truly reject the king’s invitations to visit?”
“Are you afraid your captor will return?”
“I have full confidence in my security team.”
The press glanced at my men, continuing with their questions. I let them pile up, scanning the surroundings ahead. I watched windows. I took in the vehicles. I tuned into the energy of those at my back.
As we approached the bakery, I memorized the couple leaving through the door.
I counted their steps. I took in pace. The colors of clothing.
Even as I headed through the door, I analyzed the stunned face of Mr. Marker, the baker, and his son and cashier, Connor.
Connor was my age. I’d known them for years, and yet they looked at me not like a stranger, but of someone new.
Silence.
The weight didn’t affect me when before I would have squirmed under the pressure. I took my time, finally pointing to muffins and biscuits behind the glass.
“I’ll take a dozen of those and those.”
“Of course, Ms. Taylor.” Mr. Marker grabbed a box, pausing as he met my gaze for only a moment. “It’s good to have you back, Ms. Taylor. Very good. Our condolences on your parents.”
“Thank you. It’s good to be back.”
The tension eased a little, and he gave the box to Connor. I stepped forward, opening my purse to pay.
“Please, allow me.” Connor placed the box on the counter, easing it in my direction. “We really were worried about you. I’m glad you’re finally home.”
A smile eased onto my face—genuine, soft.
“Thank you, Connor. That means a lot. It’s good to be home.” I lifted the box, turning back to see more reporters outside than before. Any traces of a smile faded, and Kip came forward, opening the door, only to fall back in position as we headed through.
The questions came.
The excitement amongst them rose.
I studied.
Not who was around me, but to those who might not want to come forward. Not the reporters… the cameramen. The journalists taking notes but not speaking.
I felt something… Something I couldn’t explain.
Eyes—Intention—Hunted?
“Penelope, can you tell us where you’ve been for the last year?
“Is the rumor true that you’re dating the barrister, Theodore Hart?
“Did you meet him during your father’s legal battles?
“Penelope, what will you do now that you’re free?”
I blinked through the last question, glancing over.
“Live.”
The buzz grew, and I kept quiet until I was stepping through the threshold of my front door and the men were locking it behind them. I couldn’t hold back a moment longer.
“Something was off.”
The men looked between each other at my statement.
“I think we all felt it,” Steven murmured. “I sure as hell got the impression we were being watched by more than The Order.”
“Me too.” Able was already pointing and leading me. “Let’s move this back into the training room. I want footage,” he said to Damon as he appeared. “I want the other team on video so we can talk this out.
“On it,” Jorge reported.
Boots were loud against the floor as we headed up the stairs and through the arched doorway.
I took my place not far from the flatscreen Able had mounted the first day we’d arrived.
The other guards crowded to stand near me.
I opened the lid to the box, and they didn’t ask as they all took muffins and biscuits while they waited for Jorge and Damon to tie in the feed.
I handed the box to the last guard, watching as he placed it off to the side.
They’re out there. The SLB isn’t going to let this go.”
I nearly bit my tongue.
My hand rose to Able as the screen flickered to multiple small feeds.
“Did I just make a mistake? Is stating my worry right or wrong?”
“To us, right. Intuition is rarely wrong, and you weren’t the only one who felt something. Maybe it’s nothing, but I’d rather be overcautious than not.”
Damon entered the training room. The smaller screen decreased even more in size as half the monitor enlarged and the other team was suddenly live on video.
“Tell me someone found something.”
More men were entering the room on the screen. Their leader, Vince, quickly took over.
“I didn’t get a visual, but are we all in agreement that there was tension out there? As if we weren’t alone?”
Able nodded. “We felt it, too.”
“We’re pulling feed now. Our team didn’t see suspicious activity, but that doesn’t mean we didn’t catch anything.”
“Same here,” Damon piped in.
Able paused. “Let’s go through the footage as thoroughly as possible. Report back to me when you finish. The meeting with The Judic starts soon. I’ll reach out afterward to see how it’s going.”
“We’ll be here. Video us again when you’re ready. Hopefully we’ll have something by then.” The screen went black, and Able turned his attention to the guards.
“Head back to your posts and keep an eye open until we finish this meeting. Damon, get with Jorge and review what we have. Find me something—anything.”
“You got it, boss.”
As the men left and shut the door, I took in the way Able paced not far from the television.
“It’s her. Agent Marchase. She’s out there, and I want her.”
“And you will have her, Ms. Penelope. If she’s close, we’ll get her.”
Ringing had the monitor flashing as the call was patched through.
The dimness of the Ritual Room appeared, and the Judic were standing at the back.
Their black veils concealed their faces, and the upside-down crowns kept the dark cloth in place.
Black robes were loose around them, hiding their hands.
The Magister was just as menacing looking, hidden from us.
Next to him, centered, was Vaughn in his dark suit.
He looked more handsome than ever, and The Reeve was at his side, sitting at the big table.
Vaughn’s face softened, and I knew it was for me.
“Unavowed. Magister. Judic. Reeve.” Able bowed his head, moving back to stand next to me. “It is a pleasure to see all of you.”
“Are you taking care of my Intended?”
Vaughn’s voice was deep. Slightly threatening.
“I am, Sire.”
“Penelope.”
“Sire.” I kept my eyes on Vaughn as I gave him a deep curtsey. I didn’t miss the way he bit against his bottom lip before he caught himself. “Magister. Judic. Reeve,” I continued. “I hope all is well.”
“As expected,” The Magister started. “Let us hear about your transition. Able, tell us of the Intended’s progress and where she stands as of now.”
“Thank you, Magister.” Able stared steadily ahead, his voice never wavering.
“When it comes to the first trial, The Trial of Knowledge, I would say Ms. Penelope’s understanding of the history section is basic at best. She’s aware of the fundamentals concerning the events that took place, but as for the roles of each family connected to the Crown, she has learning to do.
It’s expected with her upbringing and what she’s had access to, but she will need to study.
As for the second, The Trial of Loyalty, I would say she has a firm grasp on understanding what it entails. The politics side of the trials is one she’ll have to brush up on, but I’m confident in her abilities.
For the third, The Trial of the Blade…” Able’s head bowed, and my brow creased in confusion.
I lowered, witnessing the smile he tried to hide.
He couldn’t. He lifted his head to face them, and his teeth became exposed as the smile only grew.
Before I could process what it meant, a blur of color shot right out towards me.
I swung up, deflecting the powerful hit and curling my arm to lock around his as I twisted the limb back.
His body bowed, but he was still smiling.
My other hand was already up, ready to smash into his face.
My heart was racing. The sound of a chair scraping sounded from the monitor, but I didn’t take my eyes off the man who was still smiling at me.
“Ms. Penelope stands a good chance in The Trial of the Blade. Stand down.”
The last was for me, and I let go of him, only then turning back to the monitor. Vaughn’s eyes were round, and he was standing. I wasn’t sure what to think as he took me in. It almost appeared as if he were half angry, half surprised.
As he lowered back to his chair, I focused back on Able.
“I’m afraid we won’t know how the fourth trial will go until we get there, Magister. That one is a wild card.”
“Indeed.”
The Magister nodded. The Reeve looked over, picking up as they stayed quiet.
“I was told Ms. Penelope had her first outing. How did that go?”
Vaughn’s brow creased, and I knew it was the first time he was hearing about it. More anger.
“It went well. The Intended did just as we rehearsed.”
“What about threats?”
Able nodded at The Reeve’s question.
“Nothing outright. Intuition was another matter. We all felt something. We’re reviewing the footage now.”
“Report your findings to me when you have it.”
“I will.”
“Where did she…” Vaughn stopped, instead addressing me. “Where did you go, Penelope?”
“To the bakery down the road. I got some muffins and biscuits for me and the guards.”
Vaughn nodded. “And the reporters were there?”
“They were. They asked a lot of questions. I only answered the most basic ones, and my response was very short.”
“That’s good.” He turned to the Magister and The Reeve. “Anything else before we wrap up this meeting? I wish to speak to my Intended alone.”
The Magister’s hands flattened on the table.
“We will meet again every week for updates. Same day, same time. There is, of course, the Holy Night ritual to consider. I didn’t feel it was necessary for the Intended to participate, but The Judic has voted for her attendance.
It is now a requirement until she is reinstated fulltime at The Order.
Have her here half an hour before midnight so she can prepare. ”
“Yes, Magister,” Able said, bowing his head.
He and The Reeve stood, and Vaughn slowly rose from his chair. The anger still seemed to flicker on his face. He took out his phone, keeping his tone deep as he flashed it to me.
“To your room, Penelope. I’ll call soon. Answer.”