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The Cur's Bite (Kuroinu)
Chapter 10: Penelope, the Lady-In-Waiting

Chapter 10: Penelope, the Lady-In-Waiting

10

Penelope, the Lady-In-Waiting

https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/856577034012721194/1124156086035951788/Ansel_Chapter_Header_v2.png?ex=6556c7f0&is=654452f0&hm=d841fed4c7bc35fe51f1b5c04dcd429bafe554806dfe49d5f44081644d031037& [https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/856577034012721194/1124156086035951788/Ansel_Chapter_Header_v2.png?ex=6556c7f0&is=654452f0&hm=d841fed4c7bc35fe51f1b5c04dcd429bafe554806dfe49d5f44081644d031037&]

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The clerk cocked an eyebrow as he laid the badge down onto the counter. “You’re kidding, right?”

“No,” the young man insisted, as he pushed the badge further up the surface with his left hand. “It’s the real deal—solid steel, y’see? They only give these to members.”

The man squinted at the small object, breathing heavily out of his nose as he examined it. After several long seconds, he turned his eyes back to him. “Yep, it’s real, I suppose,” he said. “But I don’t know what to tell ya, son. I’m not in the market for buyin’ mercenary paraphernalia. Or whatever this is supposed to be.”

“Two shillings. That’s all I want, alright? Nothing more.”

He sighed, looking at him as if he were something foul. “Look, lad, I’m sorry but this just ain’t that kind of shop. You wanna get rid of it so badly? I'd try a second-hand store. Or, hell, maybe even the armorer just down the street—She’s always buying odd trinkets and crap like this.” The clerk then waved his hand in a shooing motion. “Now, go on. I’ve got work to do.”

He didn’t. The boy stood his ground and grit his teeth, casting his eyes downward. His grip tightened around the badge until it dug painfully into his hand. “...Please,” he whispered, staring at the wooden countertop. His voice felt weak, and he hated every tiny, cracked word that crawled out of his mouth; “Just one shilling then. Hell, I’ll even take pennies. Just buy the damn thing off me.”

“Look, kid…”

Slowly, hesitantly, he raised his eyes to meet the clerk’s. He saw a glint of something in his gaze—regret, maybe? Sympathy?—before he shuttered and cooled his expression. He shook his head once more. “...I just can’t. I’m not buyin’ it, alright? Now scram.”

His throat tightened. He shut his eyes and grit his teeth again, clamping down whatever furious insult he was about to send his way. He slid the badge off the countertop, and shoved it into his pocket, keeping his gaze steadily on the floor as he made his exit. The bell on the store’s door jingled as he pushed it open, and stepped out into the street.

It was a sunny day, and he squinted his eyes at the golden afternoon light. His gaze flickered over the people on the street, moving briskly around him.

He didn’t belong here. He knew that in his heart. It wasn’t just the looks he got—the whispering and the pointing, disdainful eyes tinged with disgust. Nor was it the way the guards constantly eyed him up. Hell, it wasn’t even the way that people moved out of his path, quick and defensive, as if just being near him would infect them with some sort of disease.

The world felt different, like the colors were too bright and the sounds too loud, hurting his head if he focused on anything too long. That, more than anything else, reminded him of just how out of place he was.

He let out a forceful exhale. That tight sensation in his throat spread out, now reaching down and constricting his chest. It roiled within him, and bubbled back up. He realized then, that he was about to sob.

He snarled, biting down on that traitorous sensation, as he whirled around to face the store. “Well fuck you, then!” he screamed at the top of his lungs, throwing the badge at the window.

Only, his aim was off. Incredibly so. The badge slipped through his fingers, and instead of smashing through the glass, it bounced and skidded harmlessly off the road. He scoffed, clenching his fist.

“Stupid…” he muttered to himself, as he knelt down to the ground. He began to reach forward with a hand that wasn’t there anymore. After several moments’ hesitation, he reached out with his left, his fingers closing around the badge.

He snapped out of his thoughts when he realized that there were eyes on him. He looked up to see that a small crowd had formed around him. Those men and women stared back at him with fear. With contempt. With pity.

He stood up, bared his teeth and snarled. “What? What the fuck are you lot looking at?” He took a step forward, and the crowd stepped immediately back. Another step, and they practically tripped over themselves to get out of his way.

He marched down the street, away from their frightened gazes. He walked and walked, not knowing where he was going. He continued even when his feet started to hurt, and his shitty boots felt like they were cutting into his soles. He walked on the pristine cobblestones that formed the streets, passing by fancy carriages and buildings made from white stone. He passed by people, so many people, and not a single one said a word to him. No one looked at him, either. He blended in, becoming another shapeless face in a crowd of thousands.

Eventually, he realized that he couldn’t keep going any longer, and slumped against an alley’s wall, letting himself slide down to the ground.

Absently, he remembered that he was still holding on to the damn badge.

The emblem of the snarling black dog was prominent on its surface, even with its worn and chipped edges. Slowly, he ran his thumb over it, tracing the outline of the animal’s head, his scowl giving way to a small, weak smile.

Gods, he could still remember the day he’d earned it—Ten years old, and barely taller than a horse’s ass. It’d been a proud moment. One of the best in his life.

“Hah…” he scoffed. “...What the hell am I doin, holding on to this? I’m not a Hound anymore…”

“No,” a far-off memory resonated in his mind. “You’re one of us, Slick. No matter what happens, you’ll always be a Hound.”

And, gods, he could still even feel the hot iron pressing into this shoulder.

His fingers clenched around the badge so tightly that his knuckles turned white, and its jagged edges bit into this palm. “Damn you… The hell do you expect me to do now, huh?” he whispered into the empty air around him.

Silence was his only reply.

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“Feoh, huh?”

Frau Penelope nodded in response. “That’s correct. My family has lived there for… Hmm...” She trailed off, seemingly thinking, before concluding, “Well, a very long time.”

“I see.” I nodded, leaning further back against the bench the two of us sat on. The market square bustled with activity, but we’d managed to find a small oasis of quiet in the midst of it all. Or, well, about as quiet as a public bench in the middle of a city could be, anyway.

Still, I couldn’t help but feel a bit on edge just talking with her. Not just because she was incredibly, breathtakingly pretty and all that—though, that was definitely a huge factor—but rather because I was pretty certain she was nobility of some sort. I suppose I just had a natural wariness that I might put my foot all the way up my mouth and end up saying something stupid to the daughter of a duke or baron.

I cringed at the thought. Gods forbid.

“Erm, Frau Penelope,” I began, “Do you mind if I ask why you’re here? O-on your own, that is? I mean, I don’t wanna impose, or anything, but... you’re nobility, aren’t you?”

She sighed, glancing away.

“Sorry,” I quickly apologized. “I didn’t mean to—”

She shook her head. “No, no... It’s okay. You’re perfectly justified, sir Ansel. I’m...” She trailed off then, looking up at the clear sky above us, a seemingly faraway look in her eyes.

But after a few moments, she shook her head and turned her gaze back to me. “A relative of mine is a somewhat important person, I suppose, and I am her lady-in-waiting. Though I have little in the way of responsibilities, much is expected of me, and I’m meant to spend much of my time at her side.” She sighed, idly kicking her legs back and forth. “It gets tiring, at times. Especially when I want to do... Well, something spontaneous,” she finished, her face slightly aflush.

“Yeah? Like taking a stroll through the city?”

Penelope chuckled and nodded. She looked towards the distance, a small smile on her face as she gazed at everything around us. “Geofu is a very lovely city,” she said softly, as if speaking more to herself than to me. “I’ve never had a chance to come here before, but I’ve heard so much about it. It’s so big, and so different from Feoh… I just wanted to see it with my own eyes, you know?”

“Yeah,” I said with a nod. “I see what you mean. Sometimes, I feel like I haven’t begun to see even half of what the city’s got to offer.”

“Oh?” Penelope tilted her head slightly. Then she smiled, her whole face seeming to light up. “Well then, which way should we go first?”

...Huh?

“...Uh, I’m sorry, what?”

She giggled in response. “I mean, if you haven’t seen all of it either, then maybe we can go and explore it together! You can be my bodyguard!” She paused, before adding, with a sheepish smile, “If you wouldn’t mind my company, that is.”

I found myself speechless for a moment, then quickly shook my head “No, no! I mean, I wouldn’t mind at all! That, uh, that would be really nice.”

Penelope smiled brightly once again as she hopped off the bench, took one of my wrists in both of her hands, and pulled me onto my feet. Then she eagerly tugged on my arm until I fell into step behind her. “Come on, come on!” she said, practically bursting with excitement.

She led the way onwards, and I followed. Where, exactly, the two of us were going, we had no idea. But, well, that hardly mattered right now. I felt a big, dumb grin tugging at my lips as we set off together for who-knows-where.

We wandered through the Holy City for hours, and Penelope showed an interest in absolutely everything, that eager grin never fading for even a moment. We stopped to look at the statues along the streets, watched merchants hawk their wares to passerbys, and gazed in awe as troubadours spun their tales in the middle of an amphitheater.

I took her to see the landmarks I was familiar with—the statue of Leshaya the pure, the Hightown gardens, and the like—yet she seemed to find joy in even the smaller side streets and more mundane sites. Together we explored the little quirks and splendors I’d never even thought to look for.

To be honest, her enthusiasm for it all was positively infectious.

Eventually, we found our way to a small teahouse along the eastern border of the city.

“Oh! Let’s sit here!” Penelope said, pointing to a table by a window. Soon enough, we sat across from each other, hot cups of tea in hand, and a plate of pastries on the table between the two of us.

Idly, I glanced out the window. There wasn’t really much of interest there; just the streets, the quaint row of residences, and little more. Still, I found my gaze drifting towards it more often than not, even if there was nothing to see.

And, well, I felt a strange sense of… Déjà vu, I suppose. Though, I was pretty sure I’d never sat with a pretty girl at a teahouse before. And yet, the more I thought about it, the more that faint sensation of familiarity grew. And then, abruptly, I had it—Blonde hair, green eyes, freckles, a brilliant grin.

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It had been nearly a year since then, and even still, Diana’s face was vivid in my memory, along with all those conflicting and confusing emotions. And even though it was stupid and pointless, I couldn’t help but wonder how she was right now. Were her grandparents and the rest of her family okay? Was she still part of Halem’s militia? Did she ever...?

I leant back in my chair, running a hand through my hair as I laughed at myself.

Gods be good. Even at a time like this, I could still find a way to get all melancholic and broody.

“Sir Ansel?”

I glanced up to see Penelope giving me a curious look, upturned eyebrows and head-tilt included.

“Oh, uh, sorry. What was that?”

“You haven’t touched your tea yet,” she said, gesturing to the cup in front of me. “And, well, you’ve been staring out the window for quite a while. I just thought maybe something was wrong.”

“O-oh! No, I’m okay. Just… lost in thought.”

“Do you want to talk about it? You seem a bit down. Though,” she hastily added, “if I’m being nosy, just let me know, and we can change the subject.”

I couldn’t help but smile at that. “It’s fine. If anything, I guess I’m just being kinda melodramatic, is all.”

She smiled back and nodded, accepting my answer.

I reached forward, wrapping my hands around the cup, and taking a long sip of the warm tea. It was sweet—much more so than I’d expected, but not altogether bad.

Penelope looked at me, almost expectantly, as I set the cup back on its saucer. “Well? What do you think?”

I gave her a short shrug. “I’m not really an expert on tea. So I can’t really comment on it much, beyond saying ‘this tastes good.’”

“I see,” she said with a laugh. “Well, I’m not an expert either, but I can tell you a little bit about it! For example, this is chamomile tea. It’s a very common variety, but I quite like it. The tea itself is said to be good for the stomach, and it can help soothe nerves. Oh, and also…”

She continued like that for quite some time, mentioning several other types of tea and various facts about them. It was a sort of odd conversation to have, but despite myself, I found it pretty engrossing.

After a while, the conversation started to lull, falling into a companionable sort of silence. Penelope and I simply sat there, enjoying the company and the comfortable atmosphere.

“I’m not a knight, you know,” I spoke up, somewhat suddenly.

Penelope cocked her head to the side. “Pardon?”

“Earlier, you called me ‘Sir,’ though I’m not actually a knight, just a regular squire.”

“Oh! Apologies, I didn’t realize,” she said, a light blush dusting her cheeks. “I just… I mean… Given your arming sword and your attire and all, I just assumed…” She paused and heaved a small sigh. “Sorry. I’m babbling, aren’t I?”

“A little, yeah,” I chuckled. “But I don’t mind.”

She smiled softly. “For what it’s worth, you’re very knight-like.”

“O-oh. Um, thank you.” I could practically feel the tips of my ears heating up as I stammered that out. “At, uh, at any rate, the sword and clothing and whatall… They’re because my master enforces a kinda strict dress code. Gotta look a certain way as her squire, you know?”

The outfit I wore consisted of a sleeveless blue jerkin over a white long-sleeved shirt, mixing both practicality and pageantry. The arming sword itself was a somewhat plain-looking steel blade, with little in the way of embellishments, save for the gilded pommel.

“Ah, I see,” Penelope nodded. “And who is your master, if you don’t mind my asking?”

After a moment’s hesitation, I responded, “Claudia Levantine.”

Her eyes suddenly widened, as she excitedly set her teacup back on its saucer. “Claudia Levantine? Her excellency? The Knight-Commander?” Penelope’s voice rose in both pitch and volume with each subsequent question. I could practically see the stars in her eyes.

“Um, yeah. That’ll be her.” I couldn’t help but smile a bit at her reaction.

Surprisingly, she managed to compose herself, though her expression was still awash with excitement. “I’d heard quite some talk about a commoner soldier, who impressed the Knight-Commander so much that she took him on as her squire. But I had no idea it was you!” She paused for a moment, before leaning in a bit. “One might say you’ve become a popular topic of conversation, even in Feoh, Ansel.”

I chuckled and scratched at my chin, now feeling somewhat self-conscious. “C’mon, it’s not like I’m....”

Humility’s a good quality to have, Vera’s words resonated in my mind. But there is such a thing as taking it too far.

Right.

I sighed and gave her a small nod, accepting the compliment for what it was. “Yeah… You’re right. I guess I am kind of popular, huh?”

We shared a small laugh at that, before continuing our conversation.

“So, what’s it like?” Penelope asked. “Being Lady Levantine’s squire?”

“It’s…” I paused for a moment, considering the words. “It’s a lot to take in. I’ve learned a whole lot more than I thought there was to fighting, and knighthood, and well, life in general, I guess.”

“Like what?”

“Like… how to fight, obviously. But also things like etiquette, and how to carry myself. Gods, I’m even learning how to read and write.”

“You didn’t know?” she asked, and I shook my head.

“I’m still learning, and all, but I’m getting there.”

Penelope smiled and nodded in response. Again, there was a brief pause before she spoke up once more. “Her Excellency’s home… Is it nearby?”

I glanced out the window again, roughly estimating where this teahouse was. I nodded after a moment. “Yeah, I’d say it is. We’re near the center of the city now, so it’s not much of a walk to the estate.”

“Then… Well, I don’t want to impose, or anything, but… Would you mind if I saw it?” She looked at me with hopeful eyes.

Penelope’s expression was so unfairly cute that I’m pretty sure it must have been illegal in some jurisdiction somewhere. And as it stood, I couldn’t really see myself saying ‘no.’

“Yeah, sure,” I said, standing up from my seat with a nod. “I don’t see why not.”

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The walk back to the Levantine estate was just about as short as I’d expected it to be. Penelope stopped walking the moment we stepped into its large courtyard. Her eyes were wide as she looked around, taking in the sights.

“It’s beautiful,” she whispered, more to herself than to anyone else. “It almost reminds me of…” She trailed off, slightly shaking her head before turning back to me. “Is that where you live? In the manor proper?”

I shook my head, pointing towards my house, just across the lawn.

“Ah, I see.” Again, Penelope’s expression took on a tinge of curiosity. “...I’ve never seen the inside of a house like this. You know, an actual house, rather than a palace or a castle.”

There was a brief silence as she looked around some more, as if trying to find the right words.

And despite myself, I chuckled. “Okay,” I said, answering her unspoken question. “I can give you the tour, if you’d like.”

Her face immediately brightened, an eager grin spreading across her lips. “I’d like that very much. Thank you.”

Well, while I did say “Tour,” given the size of the house, it was probably more of a quick glance. As we stepped inside, Penelope leant in close, looking around.

“Yeah,” I began. “I know it’s not much to look at, but…”

“No, no,” she quickly insisted. “It’s lovely! And so clean, too! I must say, it’s surprisingly tidy. I do hope you don’t mind me saying so.”

Before I could respond, a low, rumbling ‘meow’ resonated throughout the lounge.

Oh gods, I cringed. I forgot about Fritz.

“Hi, Fritz,” I greeted him. He glared at the two of us, furious at the fact that I’d brought a stranger into his domain. He made his displeasure known by loudly and clearly spitting at me.

“Oh? Who’s this cutie?” Penelope asked, kneeling down to meet him. He stared back at her with a disdain that could have cut glass, his arched back rigid as a board.

“Your name’s Fritz, right? Hello! ~Very nice to meetcha, Herr Fritz~!” she chirped in a sing-song voice, completely undaunted by his hostility.

He responded to her greeting with another annoyed, shuddering yowl.

“Uh, hey, Penelope, you might wanna—” My heart leapt to my throat as I saw her reach out a hand to pet his head.

For a brief moment, time seemed to slow to a crawl as I watched, horror-struck, as the fluffy cat twitched beneath Penelope’s hand…

And then he purred. Fritz purred, eagerly leaning into her hand as he accepted her touch.

What the hell.

"Oh, you're just a big softy, aren't you? Look at those cute little paws! Aren't they just the softest things ever? Don't you just wanna pinch 'em? Yes, you precious little thing! Who's a good kitty? You are!" She cooed at Fritz, who had now rolled onto his back as she showered him with affection.

I stood there in silence, just staring with my mouth agape.

Penelope giggled in delight and pulled him in, hugging him close to her chest. She then looked back to me and beamed excitedly. “He’s just like the one I had when I was a little girl! I had no idea you had a cat, Ansel!”

“Yeah… He just kinda… always lived here,” I awkward explained, still unsure how to even begin processing this whole situation. “Though, uh, I’ve never really seen him be this friendly with, well, anyone.”

She laughed softly at that. “Oh, he just needs a little love, that’s all.” And with that, she extended Fritz towards me, and I took a small step backwards on reflex. “Here; why don’t you give him a little pet, too?”

“Uh…” Hesitantly, I looked at Fritz.

He glared back, his baleful green eyes constricting, as if he were saying, “Don’t you fucking dare.”

“...Maybe later,” I said, after weighing my chances of surviving.

Penelope pouted a little, but then nodded understandingly. She continued to cuddle Fritz as we sat down at the table. The two of us made some more small talk, as the sky outside gradually shifted to an orange hue.

“I’m sorry,” she said suddenly, her fingers still running softly along Fritz’s head.

I quirked an eyebrow, confused. “Hm? For what?”

Penelope’s gaze was focused out the window, and a soft sigh escaped her lips. “You’ve been nothing but kind and patient with me, and… In return, all I’ve done is lie to you.” She glanced down at the cat in her arms with a small smile. “Well, that and steal your cat.”

“I’m not sure what you mean, Penelope.”

She took a breath, as if steeling herself for what came next. Her eyes then met mine, her gaze steady and clear. “Ansel… My name—”

Before she could continue, Fritz abruptly bolted upright, jerking his head up to look at the doorway.

A moment later, a knock came, followed by a man’s familiar voice. “Ansel? Are you in?”

I stood, looking towards the door. “Yeah! Just a moment, sir!” I turned back to Penelope, furrowing my brow. “We can talk about this later, if you’d like.”

She nodded and gave a small smile, tucking a loose strand of pink hair back into place. “Thank you,” she said.

I smiled back and went to open the door. The man who stood there was of middling height, standing slightly shorter than myself. His somewhat gaunt face was framed by short gray hair, almost at odds with the simple black mustache over his lips. His brown eyes seemed to almost sparkle in the light as he smiled at me, his hands tucked away in the pockets of his slacks.

At his side, a large white dog looked up at me, his tongue hanging from his mouth.

“Good evening, Ansel,” he greeted.

“And to you, lord Klaus, sire,” I replied, bowing my head.

He chuckled and waved his hand, seeming almost embarrassed by the honorific. “None of that, Ansel, please. It’s hardly as if I’m on a formal visit!”

I chuckled and nodded. “Right, sorry. I just wasn’t expecting you, sir, that’s all.” I then turned to the dog, and crouched down to pet him. “Hi, Adwin,” I said.

Adwin inclined his head and barked in return, wagging his tail.

Almost immediately, I heard Fritz hiss loudly, followed by a surprised yelp from Penelope, as he no doubt leapt out of her grasp and darted out the window.

I sighed.

To my understanding, Lady Claudia had taken Adwin in shortly before she and Lord Klaus married. Since then, the two of them had kept and raised him together.

Fritz hated Adwin. Then again, Fritz hated almost everything that had the ability to breathe, so that was hardly news.

Lord Klaus chuckled, and began to open his mouth to say something, when his gaze flickered over my shoulder. His eyes widened and his jaw dropped slightly, and he stepped back. I turned to look, but didn’t see anything out of the ordinary—just Penelope, still sitting at the table and giving a small wave.

“Um… Hello, Lord Klaus,” she said.

After several long moments of silence, Lord Klaus managed to tear his gaze away from her, and looked back to me. “...A-Ansel. How do you know this person?”

The ‘this person’ in question looked positively mortified. Her ears were bright red, and her gaze fell to the floor. She fidgeted nervously with the hems of her dress.

It was then that it struck me that this, having a highborn young woman over at my house this late in the day, was kind of a bad look. After all, it wasn’t every day that a girl of her status would be found just hanging around with a commoner, much less sitting at his dinner table.

I cleared my throat, somewhat awkwardly. “Right, well, Penelope, this is his Lordship, Klaus Curtis—He’s Lady Claudia’s husband,” I said, before turning back to him. “Sir, this is Penelope. She’s a friend. And, uh, I’m also her bodyguard for the day.”

I could practically see the gears turning in his head as he absorbed this information. After a few moments, he glanced back to me, then to Penelope, and heaved a heavy sigh. “May I come in?”

I bit my lip nervously, then nodded, stepping aside. “Yeah, of course. Please, come in.”