Marmalade's Love Potion

Chapter 19 - A Carriage Awaits - Part 3

The next hour was a flurry of chaotic motion as Penelope and the Sisters darted about the house, fluttering around each other and the Grimwood entourage, making final preparations.

Penelope found her giggles renewing whenever she passed by Callum, who had a new story for her each time. "Did you know, Steph saved my life when we were kids? I fell into the deep end of a pond—"

"It was a shallow pond—" Marni cut in.

"I nearly drowned—"

"You did not—"

"Anyway, another time Steph covered for me when I came in late from navigation training. It took me a whole extra day to find my way back, but Steph told them I got in earlier than everyone else and had simply gone home to rest—"

"I remember that! I was so mad you beat me to the Citadel, you were late?"

"Erm..."

By the time they were ready to leave, Penelope found herself, unexpectedly, in rather high spirits. These Rangers were different than what Penelope had anticipated when they had arrived as one intimidating force. They were friendly and funny, and Penelope didn't know quite what to think as Callum playfully addressed the flowers of her dress, or told stories of boyhood mischief in a way that made Steph seem both unbelievably heroic and desperately foolish. It was painfully charming, and Penelope felt unbalanced by it all.

One thing was clear. These people adored Steph. Even as the other Rangers chimed in with their own stories, told with dramatic exasperation, it was clear they admired him as much as they mocked him.

Though taciturn and gruff, even Sister Rosin couldn't help join in the banter, trading jibes that were almost friendly as they swept out the door and stepped into the carriage.

The black wood gleamed like oil, and the carriage seats were cushioned in green brocade silk. The handles and window fixtures were a shining brass that were warm to the touch, despite the icy winter wind stirring through the trees. A sweet, rich scent permeated the small space, like oranges and chocolate, that Penelope found comforting.

Sitting on one cushioned seat was a golden bell-shaped flower. A honeybelle. Smiling to herself, Penelope picked it up as she claimed her seat and the Sisters followed her inside.

"All settled? Good!" With a soft snick, the carriage door was closed and Penelope watched through the small window panes as the entourage reformed.

"What've you got there, spriteling?" Sister Rosin asked.

Penelope held out the flower. Sister Heely leaned forward to inhale its scent. "Mmm, smells like toffee."

Recognising the flower, Sister Rosin raised her eyebrows with a smirk. Penelope gave a small smile in return and held the flower close, unsure of how to feel.

On the one hand, it was clear that Steph had put in considerable effort to arrange this carriage and a whole entourage to accompany her to the ball. On the other, his dishonesty had still left her feeling humiliated, and had put her, the Sisters, and potentially her whole Royal House, in a precarious political position.

Penelope twirled the flower's stem between her fingers, heart skipping in her chest as she considered the situation. Strictly speaking, sending a full, banner-bearing entourage to collect her like this was as good as a declaration of intent for her hand in marriage. Although, given Steph's apparent penchant for defying social conventions, perhaps it was merely a gesture of good will. A peace offering.

Her chest filled with warmth as she realised he must have picked this flower himself; the feathery tendrils of its roots were still attached. Penelope's smile widened.