Dinner Fit For A Snake

For a moment, I thought he might hit me, making me prepare to scream for help and cause a scene. But instead, he exhaled sharply.

"Very well," he said through gritted teeth. "I shall replace your shackles with a spell. You'll be free to move as you please. Yet all of it will be known to me. It will be even worse than wearing some heavy metal bands. How's that sound?"

"Magic?" I mumbled, leaning forward.

"I take it you concede," he waved dismissively. "And yes, Magic. Meaning if you so much as try anything, I will find and kill you. Understand?"

"Yeah..." I said, half afraid, half confused by his constant need to be aggressive.

"Consider it done," he spat, as though the words tasted foul in his mouth. "My debt is paid, and I owe you nothing more." He sneered at me, his satisfaction barely concealed. "I'll cast the spell tonight. It will bind you until the day I die, so look forward to that," he added with a vicious grin as he got up to leave.

I sat there, contemplating the absurdity of being shackled by magic instead of iron when another thought struck me.

"And shoes," I said, my voice cutting through the stillness as he began to walk away.

Blert froze mid-step, then turned to glare at me. "I said one reward."

"Shoes," I repeated, tone firm. "It is a simple request," I replied, not bothering to hide the exasperation in my voice.

"... Fine."

I smiled sweetly, fully aware of how much it irked him. "Thank yu."

Blert grumbled something unintelligible as he stormed out of the carriage, slamming the door so hard it rattled on its hinges, leaving me alone with my thoughts.

If there was one thing I'd learned in my godforsaken life, it was that I needed to fight tooth and nail for every scrap of kindness, every bit of happiness—and, in this case, a pair of shoes.

~

A dozen minutes went by while I patiently waited in the carriage. Suddenly, the door creaked open a crack. And before I could react, a pair of shoes flew through the gap, landing with a thud at my feet.

My face gathered into a confused frown.

I glanced at the glass, glimpsing Blert's silhouette outside. His face was a mixture of irritation and something else—embarrassment. His eyes flicked to the shoes and then back to me, as if daring me to say something. Before I could, he turned sharply on his heels and bellowed, "Holison! Get over here!"

His voice was harsh, a cover for whatever discomfort he felt. With that, he stalked away, leaving me staring at the worn-out shoe pair now lying on the carriage floor. I grinned.

The door opened wider, letting in Penelope Ashdown's personal maid, who inherited the confused expression now.

"It's happened..." I muttered. I would have leaned into some sarcastic remark and made fun of the situation to make myself feel less... shitty. But tears were rushing to my eyes the more I took in their sight. A pair two sizes too big for my feet. I reached for the shoes. The leather was rough against my fingers, and the soles were worn thin. But I was grinning from ear to ear.

My breath hitched as I thought of no longer feeling the sharp sting of gravel cuts or the constant chill of the earth seeping into my bones. This was goodbye to jagged stones biting into my skin and icy coldness creeping up through my legs.

My smile stretched wider, eyes glinting with the innocence of a child under a sea of stars.

I giggled as I slipped them on, my feet swimming in the too-large space. Yet somehow, the relief was immediate.

As I adjusted the shoes, trying to make them fit as best as I could, Alice continued to watch me, her silence heavy with suspicion. Finally, she broke it.

"Where did these come from, my lady?" she asked, her voice faintly laced with curiosity.

I looked up. "I'm an oppowtunist vitch, that's where," I replied, letting out small giggles as I stretched my feet. "Oh, you guys thay Wench, I fowgot."

Penelope Ashdown's feet were a pale, porcelain-like color; her skin was smooth, her ankles slender, and the whole had a pinkish hue that remained despite the dirt and dryness caused by poor hygiene. I had thought it a waste for such a pretty and delicate body to remain in such a rough state until now.

But... I will build you back up.

I patted my thigh.

I'll take such good care of us that she'll regret leaving her body to me, wherever she is...

A question dawned on me as my hand went up and down my thigh.

What really happened to Penelope Ashdown?

Why did she leave this body to me? Did she even do it on purpose, or...

Alice's gaze didn't waver. Her eyes narrowed ever so slightly.

"Must you employ such unseemly language, my lady?"

"I'm not a lady anymore. I'm a pwisoner of the empire," I said. "I might as vell play my part, no?"

Why do they call it an empire anyway? This is literally a kingdom.

I turned my attention back to the shoes, fiddling with the laces.

"At least this one accepts reality..." She mumbled, gaze sharpening for just a moment before she turned away, to leave. "I shall be attending to my duties now, Lady."

I nodded and leaned back in the chair, my grin slowly fading as I watched Alice make her way out.

Alice was either too shrewd or too observant for my liking. Maybe both.

She would be a troublesome partner to pick. Not a chance.

I have a feeling she must already harbor less than positive feelings towards Penelope Ashdown, given her reputation, but also given that she's the reason Alice is here.

I would have hated her too, if I hadn't experienced the story through a third perspective while reading the book, I think...

Even then, it's Ashdown that led her here. Not me.

I sat there for a while, the worn-down shoes clinging to my feet like a small, tangible victory. And for now, that was comforting enough.

It wasn't much, but out here, where the horizon was clear and the world seemed so deceptively simple, it felt like I had gained a little more room to breathe. Like I had taken a step forward, if only a small one.

"I won't be fabricating sympathy for someone more fortunate than I am. It's not how she taught me to live..." I mumbled, the thought of what I could have in my arms once my plan came to fruition leaving a faint smile on my expression, and a light lump in my throat.

~

A grassy patch dotted with a few boulders in the middle of a treeless horizon—that was my dining area for the night.

As for dinner...

My stomach growled.

"Awe they pewhaps-perhaps trying to poison me? Ve honest." My voice echoed faintly into the quiet, dark night, my frustration barely masked.

Several meters away, the real campsite was set up—a bustling little world of light compared to the sad cloth I sat on, cross-legged, staring out at the endless, colorless horizon. The large bonfire at the center of their camp made it resemble a city of light. One I wanted to live inside of.

Around it, the knights and maids enjoyed themselves, filling the air with the sound of lively chatter and booming laughter.

To my far left, Fars—the toothless knight—hummed an obnoxiously loud tune, as if to remind me that someone was still watching.

If I squinted hard enough to my right, I could make out Truman's shadow standing guard beside a large boulder, quite a distance away. His shadow was shaped like a crownless tree.

A little closer behind a small boulder, a few steps away, I could see a head of hair poking out.

"Alice," I called, rolling my eyes.

She straightened up, startled. Her shoulder-length hair fell into place as she stepped into view. Clearing her throat, looking somewhat surprised.

"Ahem... You knew I was there...?"

"Yes. I'm not blind," I replied dryly. "I saw you on my way here with the knight. Did you wait for long?"

I gave Alice a long look, waiting for some explanation for her unnecessary presence. But she merely dusted her black dress and kept her gaze away, her pink eyes betraying her lack of desire to engage further.

"I asked you a question," I repeated, turning my attention to my 'dinner'. Aka, a half-cooked lizard on a stick. "Is this a joke or am I uncultured?" I asked.

"It is edible and carries no toxins, my lady. I made sure of it," she nodded, her tone solemn.

I quirked my lips, bitter. "... I saw the maids plucking tthickens earlier, though…" I mumbled, turning the stick in my hand as I scrunched up my nose at the sight of the crimson creature's bloated belly. "Can't you, like…" I leaned in, lowering my voice, "Steal some shicken for me? I'm so hungry…"

"I'm afraid there's nothing I can do, my Lady. The commander's orders are absolute."

... She didn't even hesitate. What an a—wait, Blert?

"Blewt? Vat does he have to do wizzis?"

"Sir Blert spoke passionately to the cook about how you reminded him of a snake... And so the cook had the bright idea to prepare you... Well, a dinner fit for a snake."

I shot Alice a disgusted look, my eyebrows knitting together.

"Two grown men..." I began, eyebrows pulling together in disgust. I didn't have the words, however. "Whatever, you can go," I waved a dismissive hand at her.

She nodded and turned away.

I clicked my tongue, looking away until I was reminded.

"Oh, but why awe you here?" I remembered to ask, tossing the lizard aside, into the grey grass.

Alice turned to face me, her expression as monotone as ever. A beat of silence, and then.

"Orders," She said.

I nodded shallowly, watching her hop back behind her rock.

Right, orders.

I turned to Truman, who still stood like a stiff sentry in the night. His posture was rigid, but I noticed how his head occasionally lolled as if he were napping on foot.

"Twuman," I pronounced. His name felt unusual on my tongue.

I wonder how such a special man didn't make it into the book. There were lines dedicated to Victorian-era nepo-babies with not one memorable trait, but not a single line for a knight with golden eyes and better looks to match?

The knight turned toward me, his golden eyes glinting as he stared at me. When I forced and simply watched back, he yelled, "You called!?"

My eyes widened.

How did he hear me whisper from over there...?

"Lady Penelope," Truman closed the distance between us, blinking as though he'd just woken from a pleasant nap. He yawned as he spoke his next words, "At your service."

I stood up, meeting his golden gaze with an uneasy grin.

"Uh…" My eyes drifted to the glass dagger strapped to his waist, and I pursed my lips. "Yes… Well... I cawed you because of, uh…"

What do I say?

Sh-Should I just take the jump...?

I forced a wider grin. How am I supposed to survive if I play it safe, anyway.

"I wequire a favor!" I whispered, the words escaping my lips in a single breath.

Truman's gaze was steady, his face showing little emotion, though there was a flicker of curiosity in his eyes. He nodded slightly. Continue.

My hand brushed against the bandages that wrapped my neck. The injury throbbed as I continued. "I've heard that—"

GROWL.

I froze.

... Who was that?

GROWWWWL.

Truman blinked. I blinked.

Then smiled. That was me and Penelope's stomach.

I hesitantly looked back at Truman, but he was holding back a chuckle. He cleared his throat.

I would have been inclined to laugh under different circumstances.

I clenched my fists, forcing a smile. "Wew… it seemth my body is betraying me..." My voice came out tight, almost strained. Totally because of my jaw...

God, I'm so fucking hungry...

"I know," he said with a casual wave of his hand, scratching the side of his face as he let go of his smile. "Me too," He said.

What does he mean?

No. Useless idle talk.

"Be that as it may, Sir Truman," Disregarding the pain, I pulled my speech pattern together. "My need for your assistance is... quite urgent." I watched him carefully, noting the almost indifferent set of his features under the moonlight—relaxed, perhaps even a bit bored.

The guy had the air of someone who never quite paid attention to anything serious.

"I was hoping you might… procure something edible from the camp's kitchen," I said, letting a touch of exasperation seep into my voice. "The lizard they served earlier… There," I pointed to the stick on the ground. "It won't do."

Truman tilted his head, his eyes narrowing in thought, though it seemed more like a purposeful delay than genuine consideration.

"… I could do something about it, I suppose," he said slowly, as if the idea had only just occurred to him. Then, with a sudden, almost unnatural brightness, he added, "For a small fee, of course."

My eyebrows twitched.

Self-serving, are we? How convenient.