chapter 29: princes & paintings

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Dear Readers,

    As quick as the season ended, it begins once again. With spring comes along new debutantes, all prim and polished, ready to find their match. Will they be so lucky? We shall find out. First comers and returning prospects are all to be seen in their true glory this week at Lady Danbury's annual gala. Hopefully the season will be as exciting as the last, however it's quite unlikely, considering there's no story quite like the Duke and Duchess. Regardless, I should note that there's been talk of a certain appearance by the elusive Prince of Windshire, whose rumoured to have just sailed in. Is he just passing through or is he searching for a match himself? If he is, I pity every young man on that dance floor as there's no more desirable debutant than a prince.

Yours Truly, Whistledown

Penelope placed her quill and sunk her head into her hands. Lately, the last thing she'd been wanting to do is write, but weeks without any new Whistledown papers seemed to bring the town into a spin. It had become her obligation really, more than just a pastime to escape life momentarily.

She shuffled the papers away under her mattress, where no one would find them as she sighed wearily. She glanced at her bedroom door where a yellow silk-like dress hanged. It had a square neckline laced with white pearls leading down to a yellow bodice followed by a train of ruffles. It wasn't the worst dress she's ever worn but definitely one of the simplest.

Since her father's death, and subsequent debt, they couldn't afford nicer dresses.

Once during a fitting, she mentioned out loud that she might have to rewear some of her past gowns and as her mother fussed with the hemline, she muttered, "well that's fine, it's not like anyone noticed you enough to remember what you were wearing anyway."

And for once, Pen found herself agreeing with her mother.

~~~~~~~~~

The next few days were a complete haze for Penelope.

It was all the same as last year, except there were more frowns and whispering as her and her sisters made their way down the aisle towards the Queen. She'd blocked it all out, not wanting to remember what it felt like in those awful moments.

She kept her eyes forward and steady, so unmoving that she didn't even notice if Colin was in the crowd. She really hoped he wasn't.

Atleast this time around, no one fainted.



Without realizing, she found herself at Lady Danbury's house. As her sisters and mother made their way in, she stayed back, knowing that entertaining tonight would be completely exhausting. She was in no mood to pretend to be a lady, and she knew her being there had the same presence as if she was absent.

When no one was looking in her direction, she quietly made her way upstairs. She wasn't technically allowed up here, but if anyone saw her, she could easily feign as if there was something wrong with her dress and she needed a bathroom.

As she made her way up, she was glad to see that there seemed to be no one around. There were two long hallways on either side, and she was suddenly reminded that Lady Danbury had a notorious art gallery.

Lady Danbury was known to have a "peculiar" taste.

Penelope smirked; she knew exactly how she was going to spend her night.

She swiftly and quietly made her way down the east wing, passing dozens of closed doors and mantels and swords hanging on the walls in between every room.

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