When One Door Closes

"You've been restless." Alloy points out.

The feline has been keeping me company as I wallow in my room for hours on end.

Day to night, I'm submerged in hopelessness, sinking deeper into an ocean of self-pity. My chest has numbed from the repetitive crushing sensation—dull and gray.

Valerius, my dreaded husband, has incited my doom, and he hasn't even done anything drastic yet.

He's been behaved, absent. He took my wish seriously. Ever since that night, he hasn't shown himself, hasn't peeped a word.

I should be able to revel in this peace, but it all feels so out of control. I've lost a game with no rules, brought upon misfortune to myself and others. Giving up might be the only option left.

"You've barely even tried."

"All my attempts have failed. He's still alive!" I whine as I kick my feet upward. The silk blankets come undone, pooling on the ground.

I can see the way Alloy's purple eyes narrow in scrutiny. "You had one assassination attempt in total. Why are you whining?"

Huh. One? Realizing that the cat is right, I almost burst out laughing. "I've always been sort of dramatic."

The feline doesn't respond. Instead, it climbs the space in front of me and pushes its furry head against my waiting hand. Alloy purs, as I caress its head with gentle strokes.

Alloy's true form may not be of a cat's, but it's a sweet and comforting being nonetheless. Perfect for head pats.

"You've been patient with me." I say, gratitude heavy in my voice. If anything good came out of this ordeal, it's Alloy's company.

"Yes," The cat answers. "You have done me more than one favor, Penelope. It's the least that I can do in return."

I shake my head in disagreement. "We signed a contract. I wouldn't call it a favor."

"You saved my life. You took me in." Alloy points out. "Quite idiotic in hindsight."

"Are you calling me an idiot?"

The cat purs again—smug. "You haven't figured out how to leash your husband yet."

Frustrated at the mention of a certain prince, I huff and roll my eyes, "He's uncontrollable."

"Men are simple beings." Alloy argues. "Take ahold of his heart and you will be in control of his mind."

I've heard those words before, strangely enough. My father's aged face comes to mind, his knowing eyes and tired smile. He put his faith in Penelope, believing the girl to be docile and feminine—a capable wife, a refined lady. She must've been trained at an early age, groomed to fit the role perfectly.

I know, more than anything, that Valerius desires nothing of that nature.

"You think I can do it? Win over his heart?"

Alloy's answer is abysmal, existing in the plane between kind and cruel. The feline says,"I believe you're capable of many things," And my lungs ache at the sheer faith of it.

There's a good ending waiting for me. I might be capable of grasping it. Might. The uncertainty is the deadliest aspect.

Alloy nods, "Waiting for fate to take its course might kill you faster."

The cat's right.

Unable to wallow any further, I stand from my place on the bed. The room is a mess, unbecoming of a princess. Time has come that I get it together.

Penelope is counting on me. Right now, she's not the only one. Aurelia and Alloy belong under my wing—they're my responsibility too.

"What do you propose I do?"

The cat stares in contemplation, scrunching its pink, button nose. "You can start with a bath."

Sniffling, I almost blanch when an unfamiliar odor hits me. Ugh. Now, that's just pathetic.

Guess I haven't been acting myself. I step outside the door and call for a servant, making an order to prepare a bath.

The bathroom is a short walk. My clothes drop next to my feet, sprawled around carelessly. The hairs on my arms stand, no longer used to the cold chill that comes with being bare.

I hear Alloy's awkward shuffles, movements uncertain as the feline follows behind.

"Not going to join?" I ask, dipping my toes into the warm bath.

"I'd rather not."

Right. I forgot the part where cats hate water. I suppose that rule doesn't change for magical cats with purple eyes.

Submerged in the warm bath, I shrug, "Suit yourself."

When was the last time since I got to relax like this?

"The full moon is in a few days." The cat explains. "I overheard the maids say Prince Valerius is going to accompany a few noblemen to a hunting trip. Offer to come. There will be a river there, I'm sure of it. Take your chance and break the trinket."

"That's a great plan. For your end of the bargain." I answer as I scrub my legs clean. The water splashes against the tub—overflowing. "How's that going to help me with my husband situation though?"

"Get closer to him." The feline voices. "It's a hunting trip. Pretend to not know anything and ask for help at every turn."

I watch as a soap bubble lands on my nose, "You think that'll work on him?"

"Maybe. It'll help you two grow closer."

"Maybe, huh?" I hum. "Alloy, how are you sure the poison failed? What if the cooks changed dishes at the last minute?"

"I watched them take the dish out of the kitchen. That's impossible." The cat explains.

"How, then?"

Valerius' survival was improbable. Dodging death as it takes you by the throat requires an awful lot of luck, perhaps even some reality bending abilities. That poison was a certainty. I was sure it'd take.

Valerius was supposed to fall—there and then.

"Take it as a sign that murder might not be your best answer."

"What? So we're taking the seduction route?"

"What options do you have left?"

The urge to splash the feline grows stronger and stronger and the conversation goes on. I don't want to stoop down to that level, but do I have a choice?

"I'll consider it."

"Good girl." The cat responds. I splash it.