Marmalade's Love Potion

Chapter 20 - The Dark Moon Ball - Part 2

Princess Ivy's smile was all sharp edges as Penelope turned to face her. The sparkle in Ivy's bright blue eyes was malicious, her smile widening as she looked Penelope up and down.

Penelope glanced briefly at Ivy's gown in kind, taking in the richly beaded bodice and layered skirt of purple silks before fixing her gaze on Ivy's face.

Had Princess Ivy's intent ever been genuine, ever been kind, Penelope would have found her enchanting. Her pale skin was smooth and dewy. Constellations of shining gold freckles were smattered artfully across her bare shoulders. Her cheeks blushed a regal pink, and her eyes were clear and wide, fringed in thick lashes. Yet in their depths lay a hardness, a brittle calculation and cruelty, that Penelope had always recoiled from.

Though Penelope's fingers were cold with nerves, the dread she might have expected at another confrontation with Ivy failed to surface. She had lived through far worse than the bitter words of a petty girl. And she had far greater concerns tonight.

"Princess Ivy, still as sweet as your House's namesake, I see. I do hope you enjoy your evening." Penelope gave a dismissive nod and turned her gaze towards the curtain.

Ivy laughed, a quiet purring sound. "Truly, I'm surprised to see you here tonight. Why, I haven't had the pleasure of crossing paths at an event like this in years."

Penelope paused, wary. "I was invited," she bit out.

"Why, yes, of course you were invited, as you have been every soirée and ball and... well... every significant celebration of the last decade. Yet you appear at this one, after all these years of polite declines and mysterious absences? How very intriguing."

Penelope frowned, her mind reeling as she turned again towards Ivy.

Penelope had never declined an invitation. As a child she had lived for those invitations. She hadn't received an invitation to anything in nearly ten years. At least, none she had been aware of...

Had the Sisters declined them on her behalf? No, surely not... Ivy must be lying.

"I never—"

Penelope snapped her mouth shut as she realised people were crowding closer, whispering together in small clusters. They pretended not to be listening, yet there was a palpable tension in the angles of their posture as they leaned in, the better to hear.

Princess Ivy preened as she sensed she held the attention of the room.

"Well?" Ivy persisted, prowling forward to close the distance. "What, or rather, who, has so captured the attention of the elusive Penelope Starwood that she would finally deign to emerge from solitude?"

Ivy's sharp gaze bore into Penelope, the corners of her coral-pink lips quirking.

Ivy had always spoken in traps and riddles, the glossy surfaces of her words hiding trick steps that never failed to unbalance Penelope. Though familiar with Ivy's verbal sleights of hand, her question now threw Penelope completely off kilter.

Had she truly been invited all these years to royal events? Why had she never known? Who had declined them?

Behind Princess Ivy, her usual flock of sycophants eyed Penelope with smiles on their faces and disdain in their eyes, gazes narrowed with predatory glee.

They were waiting for Penelope to trip herself into their baited web, to protest and defend and justify herself until she was entangled, humiliated by her own words.

If she misspoke now, she would either ensure she looked utterly foolish, or else insult half the court. Or both.

Well, by Ivy's own admission, Penelope was apparently seen as mysterious. She could give them mystery.