IVY

IVY CHAPTER 2: BLOSSOMS AND ENCOUNTERS

Penelope woke up to the soft rays of sunlight filtering through the sheer curtains that adorned her room. The opulent canopy overhead seemed to embrace her, providing a familiar sense of comfort amidst the grandeur that she was surrounded by. However, as she opened her eyes and glanced around the room, a feeling of unease settled in her chest once again.
The sight of the lavishly decorated bedroom, with its intricately carved furniture and vibrant colors, proved to be all too much. It was a stark contrast to the simplicity and warmth of her previous life. She longed for her past house where she had grown up, where everything had been more modest yet filled with genuine love.
Taking a moment to collect herself, Penelope swung her legs off the edge of the bed and sat up. The weight of her new responsibilities weighed heavily on her shoulders, and she still couldn't shake off the feeling of being out of place.
Lynn, entered the room, carrying a tray with freshly brewed tea and a plate of pastries. "Good morning, Your Highness," Lynn greeted with a slight bow.
"Good morning, Lynn," Penelope replied, mustering a faint smile. The formality of being addressed as "Your Highness" still felt foreign to her, as if it belonged to someone else. She couldn't help but miss the simplicity of being just Penelope. She wasn't the Highness just yet, but the date for the wedding was fast approaching.
Lynn laid the tray down on a nearby table and began to assist Penelope in selecting her attire for the day. The walk-in closet was filled with a dazzling array of gowns, each more extravagant than the last. Penelope felt a sense of disconnection yet familiarity with the day's events. This was going to be her life forever now.
As Lynn carefully picked out a dress, Penelope couldn't help but feel like a stranger in her wardrobe. She longed for the familiar comfort of her simple attire,  but she knew that in this new world, appearances mattered.

Penelope made her way to the grand dining hall, where a formal breakfast gathering was taking place. The room was filled with courtiers dressed in elaborate attire, engaged in polite conversation and exchanging social niceties.
As Penelope entered the room, heads turned, and whispers spread among the attendees. She was an enigma, an outsider thrust into their midst. Some courtiers regarded her with curiosity, others with envy, and a few with thinly veiled disdain. It was clear that not everyone welcomed her new presence.
Penelope's attempts to navigate the social intricacies of court life were met with mixed results. Sometimes all she could do was smile politely.

While chatting Maxwell stood up and decided to make a toast. "Good morning everyone! We thank you all for gathering here today to celebrate meeting my bride-to-be Penelope!"

Penelope politely waved and tried to not focus on the dozens of faces analyzing her every move. Maxwell carried on.

"I invite you to celebrate and to get to know my future wife better!" Maxwell said and the whole room cheered applauding their King.

"Wife", that's what he called me... Penelope breathed to herself, she was starting to feel more like a porcelain doll rather than a human being. She was then approached by more courtiers, The ballroom was adorned with flickering candlelight, casting a warm glow on the polished marble floors. Penelope found herself surrounded by a group of courtiers, their eyes filled with curiosity and thinly veiled disdain. Lady Isabella, known for her sharp tongue and piercing gaze, took the lead in questioning Penelope about her past.
"So, Penelope, they say you come from a neighboring country. How did you end up here, among us?"
Penelope knew this was coming yet it didn't seem to soften the blow, the weight of their judgment was heavy.
"Yes, it's true. I come from the neighboring country Veridian." Penelope began, her voice tinged with vulnerability. "I met Max-. She caught herself "Maxwell when I was very young, our fathers were good friends."
Lord Jonathan, with a mischievous smile playing on his lips, chimed in. "An interesting twist of fate, wouldn't you say?"
Penelope met his gaze and found herself wishing she hadn't. "I might not say that but yes it has been quite a journey" She smiled again giving the courtiers what they wanted, they didn't want to hear about what she thought they wanted to poke and prod her to see what she was made of.
She knew she had to tread carefully, revealing just enough without exposing the depths of her vulnerabilities.
"Yes, it has been quite a journey," Penelope replied, her smile masking a mixture of pain and resilience. "Leaving behind my home in Veridian was not an easy decision. But when fate brought me back into Maxwell's life, I couldn't ignore the pull, the connection we shared from our childhood."
Lady Isabella raised an eyebrow, her skepticism apparent. "So, you expect us to believe that your presence here is solely based on a childhood connection? There must be more to the story you're not telling us."
Penelope was being challenged, this was too much for her. "Of course, there is more to the story. Life is seldom as simple as it seems but I couldn't stay away from Maxwell. Lady Isabella then said, "I knew Maxwell's Mother and her son since the day he was born and he never once mentioned you." All Penelope could do was laugh and say "If you know Maxwell as I do then I don't think it would be stretching the truth to say that he leaves out important details sometimes"
Lord Jonathan leaned in, his tone laced with subtle mockery. "And what about your family in Veridian? Did you abandon them for Maxwell or the allure of this kingdom?"
Penelope's heart tightened at the mention of her family. She averted her gaze for a moment. "Leaving my family behind was undoubtedly the most difficult part of this journey. But sometimes, in pursuit of our happiness, we have to make sacrifices."
The courtiers exchanged knowing glances, their skepticism not entirely quelled. Lady Isabella leaned closer, her voice low and cutting. "You do realize, Penelope, that you are a stranger in our midst. We have our eyes on you and we will not let Maxwell be seduced by a witch"

Penelope felt Lady Isabella's words like a knife, she excused herself from the gathering, seeking refuge from the suffocating atmosphere.

Penelope's heart raced as she faced the inquisitive gazes of the courtiers. Deep within her, a mix of sadness and anger brewed. How dare these people pass judgment on her and Maxwell? How close were they to him? Did their opinions hold any weight in their relationship? But even worse, she was lying right through her teeth to these people. Her eyes welled up again, and she felt too tired to cry. Desperate for a breath of fresh air, she wandered further into the labyrinthine corridors of the castle, until she stumbled upon a secluded loading bay where provisions were being unloaded.
Perching herself on the edge of a wooden platform, she gazed out at the neighboring fields, seeking solace in the tranquil landscape. Unbeknownst to her, a Conestoga wagon stood parked nearby, its back brimming with her favorite flower, Wisteria. Lost in her thoughts, Penelope failed to notice the arrival of a man stepping down from the front of the wagon, his dark tan skin glowing with warmth in the sunlight. The lines of hard work and dedication were etched into his features, adding a rugged charm to his handsome face.
"You don't look like you should be picking these flowers up," he remarked, puzzled by Penelope's presence. She shook her head, avoiding his gaze. "Are you alright, miss?" Concern etched into his voice as he knelt, meeting Penelope's tear-stained eyes with sincerity.
Penelope remained silent, her tears speaking volumes. "Aw, look, miss, I'm sorry. I'm not trying to bother nobody."
His words resonated with her, perhaps the kindest gesture she had encountered all day, and it caused her tears to flow even more freely. "Ahh..." The man's face twisted in a mix of surprise and empathy as if Penelope had handed him a handful of burning coals.
"Know what? I probably have something that could make you feel better," he offered, a hint of a smile playing on his lips. He rummaged inside his wagon and retrieved a few bright red roses, each rose had been picked free of its thorns. With a flourish, he removed his hat and knelt once more, his eyes locking with Penelope's.
"Roses just for you."
Penelope's trembling hands reached out to accept the roses. She clutched them close to her heart and at that moment, their eyes met. Penelope and Gabriel found themselves connected.