Collective

Penelope

Penelope sat on her bed, her posture perfect, not a hair out of place, no wrinkles in her pink dress. She sat on her bed staring at a picture on the wall, one of a white clad ballerina, forever spinning across a bright stage. Penelope stared at the ballerina, and she counted.

Penelope was allowing herself to look at the clock over the fireplace once every ten minutes. At first, she had stared at the clock continuously, watching it's tiny hands move around their circle over and over again. But when the clock struck two in the afternoon, Penelope had forced herself to stand up, walk around, and stop looking at it. Or at least stop looking at it apart form once every ten minutes.

It was now three, and Penelope was starting to get worried. Where was Lyla? She had been very specific that it would be this afternoon. Penelope had insisted that Lyla not even bring her breakfast, instead having Lyla follow around Mr. Greene all morning just in case he left early. But it was three, and Penelope had seen no sign of Lyla.

Penelope pushed back the curtains of her bedroom to expose the stormy skies above. It wasn't raining yet but it looked like it might at any second. The garden had that summer morning feel, where the air was so heavy that little droplets of dew hung on all the leaves, making Penelope feel like she lived in a rainforest. Were the stalls of city even open on days like today, when the unknown timing of the rain could destroy the wares of the merchants if the skies decided to open up? Maybe Mr. Greene had decided to postpone his trip to the market because of the weather.

Penelope stepped onto her balcony, hoping, though she knew it was futile, that she would hear some news, some discussion, even just some idle conversation from someone passing by. But of course, no one was outside on a day like today, and the garden was silent save for the sounds of the animals moving about.

Sighing, Penelope placed her head in her hands on the balcony, a rare moment of external weakness. Ten days. It had been ten days since the disastrous Offering, and in those ten days, aside from her ill advised jaunt into the city, Penelope had spoken only to Lyla, and left her room only twice. She had not heard from the Queen at all.

Penelope knew that social engagements were pressing on, just the other night she had witnessed society women in large hoop skirts strolling through the gardens with men on their arms. What did they think of the fact that the Princess was not in attendance at their Ambassador's Dinner? Perhaps the Queen told them that Penelope was not well. No one would raise their eyebrows at that, Penelope knew the story of the Offering would have spread far and wide by now. She had learned from a young age that whispers travel faster than people and bad news travels fastest of all.

Just then, the door to her room squeaked open and Lyla, white as a sheet, squeezed inside.

Penelope took the stairs to the lounge area two at a time and practically ran to meet her. "Is he gone!?" she couldn't keep the excitement out of her voice, finally, a purpose!

Lyla looked at Penelope with concern but nodded slowly, "He left just now, in the direction of the market. But...Princess are you sure about this? I'm worried perhaps," Lyla bobbed her head down apologetically, "Perhaps you tire of staying in your room and are too hasty in your plan, are you sure this isn't too risky?" Lyla looked sick to her stomach.

Penelope knew Lyla spoke from a place of wisdom, but no one was going to take away Penelope's fun now, because fun was exactly what she anticipated this project to be. Lyla didn't even know the plan, and she was nervous, which solidified Penelope's decision not to tell her.

"Don't you worry, I will be completely safe," she assured Lyla, "Now, the most important thing is this, I want you to go stand by the entrance that Mr. Greene uses, and if you see him approaching, you need to run as fast as you can to the Queen's offices, go to the scribes office, and tell us that the Queen has requested your and Mr. Greene's presence at once, and make it sound very urgent. Do you understand?" Penelope knew she was taking a risk by not telling Lyla that she would look like Mr. Greene if Lyla found her in the Queen's offices, but she was hoping that part of the plan wouldn't even be necessary.