Sleep came in fits and starts that night. Cycles of joy and trepidation kept my mind in constant motion, leaving no opportunity for me to rest. The joy was easy to explain: Natalia was in bed right beside me, draped around my form like a dragon with its treasure. She wanted me and had accepted me. The sheer relief and satisfaction that brought was too vast for me to feel all at once; instead, I’d experience short bursts of it each time I felt her warmth or glanced up at her face. The frequent sensation left me shuddering in delight and worming my way further into her arms throughout the night.

 

For her part, Natalia radiated peacefulness. The usual creases in her brow and forehead were nowhere to be found in sleep, making her appear younger and softer. Her posture lacked the tension of someone trying hard to appear respectable. Each of her exhales was a contented sigh that melted my heart. She was vulnerable in a way I’d never seen from her before, and it only made my presence beside her feel that much more special.

 

But buried within my affection were the seeds of anxiety. Deep down, I knew giving Natalia control over me meant she would have to grow stern. A lifetime of receiving reprimands and punishments had taught me that much. And the idea of having another strict disciplinarian, even one I’d chosen willingly, was enough to make my stomach twist. How would she discipline me, I wondered? Would she reach for the tawse and beat me dispassionately, as my tutors had? Lash me with cutting insults like Selene? Or bury me beneath the crushing weight of her disappointment with a single glance like mother? 

 

By the time dawn’s light crept above the treetops, I decided I would never find out. Natalia wouldn’t have to punish me if I didn’t break any rules. If I could put my days of disobedience behind me for good, we could live happily ever after. With my dilemma resolved and my body flush against my wife’s, I was finally able to give in to my exhaustion and get a decent rest.

 

Or so I thought.

 

“Up, kitten.” Natalia’s voice tore me from the beginnings of proper slumber.

 

I slowly opened my eyes. Some time had passed since I’d fallen asleep, but judging by the angle of the sun it had been fairly little. Natalia stood at the foot of the bed, fully dressed for the day in a dark brown leather jerkin. Her stance was somewhat rigid.

 

“Mms’eepy,” I mumbled, barely conscious.

 

“Come on. Up.” Natalia pulled back the blankets, revealing me curled up in my lilac nightgown. “Busy day today.”

 

I peeked over at her through a lock of my chestnut hair half-covering my face. A whine originally intended as words spilled out over my lips. 

 

“I…it’s…” Natalia hesitated for a moment, then took a quick breath and put on a firm expression. “We’re establishing rules today.”

 

Anxiety gripped my torso and squeezed. I quickly shuffled to a seated position and placed my hands on my lap. “Oh. Sorry.”

 

Natalia nodded curtly. “That’s alright. You didn’t know. Now, get dressed and meet me in my study.” She exited my—our—room. 

 

After a massive yawn and a full body stretch, I tumbled out of bed and did as she asked. I kept my outfit simple, as asking servants to help me dress felt strangely…wrong, given my unique circumstances. A plain white dress and flats would do fine, with a little pink satin bow in my hair for color. 

 

Natalia was waiting for me in her study, a silhouette standing tall before the bright morning sun. I entered with light steps, cowed into caution by her powerful presence. My eyes darted back and forth between her and a sturdy wooden chair on my side of the room. 

 

She nodded. “You may sit.”

 

Butterflies danced in my stomach as I sat down. I hadn’t even realized I’d been seeking her permission—it had just come naturally. I grinned in wonder, my hands clasping and fidgeting in my lap. Such a silly, insignificant moment, and yet it made me feel a rush of pride. Like I was not only capable of being hers, but also meant for it.

 

Natalia hummed in approval at my reaction, her eyes greedily taking in every detail of me they could. She stepped forward. “Good morning, kitten.”

 

“Morning.”

 

She cleared her throat. “I’ve found that in the training I’ve done, hound or soldier, clarity and consistency are key. You make sure they understand what the rule is, and then you allow no exceptions to it. I imagine training a kitten is no different.” She began to pace the room, her even steps nonetheless thrumming with nervous energy. 

 

I felt that nervousness as well, but tried to push it down. Natalia had clearly taken time to consider and choose these words, and I wanted to respect her effort with my full attention—even if the content of said words felt eerily similar to other speeches I’d received before. This time would be different, I reminded myself. I could do this.

 

“To that end, I’m going to introduce several rules over the course of the next week or so. If you break them, you will be punished—lightly on a first offense, then more harshly over time. Any questions?” She turned toward me with her whole body, her boots aligning in perfect parallel.

 

My heartbeat quickened, even though I knew there wouldn’t be any punishments because I was going to behave correctly. I wished my suddenly clammy palms and dry mouth understood as much.

 

“No questions,” I murmured. 

 

Natalia looked me up and down, her brow furrowing. “Is everything…” Her feet shifted, skewing one of her boots ever so slightly.

 

“I’m fine. Thank you. I didn’t mean to interrupt.” I relaxed my posture by force, shifting my shoulders back and uncrossing my tightly wound legs.

 

“Are you...right. The rules, then.” She patted the pockets of her jerkin, then spent nearly an entire minute hunched over rummaging through desk drawers with a nasty habit of jamming. By the time she finally retrieved what she was looking for—a small, leather-bound journal—her face was bright red. “Yes. Okay. Rule one: You will refer to me as ma’am, Miss, or Miss Natalia.”

 

I cocked my head to the side. “...Why?”

 

Natalia blinked. “Because…because that’s what you’re supposed to call people above you. It signals respect.”

 

“Oh.” I wasn’t convinced. The terms felt rather stuffy and formal, both of a world we were trying to keep away from. Besides, I’d called plenty of my tutors ma’am and miss, and I certainly hadn’t respected any of them. I hadn’t thought of them as particularly above me, either—at least not in intelligence. 

 

But I’d get used to it, I supposed. “Okay, ma’am.”

 

“Excellent.” Her pacing resumed. “Now, rule two: No pleasuring yourself without my permission.”

 

I snorted. “Won’t be a problem, ma’am.”

 

Natalia paused. “Really? You’ve never…?” She waved her free hand in a vague gesture like she’d planned to pantomime something lewd but thought better of it.

 

I blushed, my eyes darting off to a distant corner of the room. “I have! I just…I don’t know. I didn’t quite…get it? Uh, ma’am.”

 

“Did you not enjoy it?” Natalia’s expression shifted in an instant from detached formality to curious hunger and back again. It was becoming something of a pattern this morning, along with brief detours to sheepishness.

 

“I liked it, but…I don’t get what all the fuss is about, I suppose. Ma’am.”

 

“Hm.” I could practically hear Natalia making a mental note. “Regardless, the rule stands.”

 

I nodded. “Yes, ma’am!” Some of the tightness in my chest started to ease more naturally. I’d expected to be thrown deep in over my head within moments; perhaps my expectations had been overblown.

 

“And last for today, rule three: You will obey all of my direct commands.”

 

Or perhaps they hadn’t been quite so overblown after all. 

 

“What?” I crossed my arms defensively. “I…that’s…what does that mean?”

 

Natalia raised an eyebrow.

 

I stared at her blankly.

 

“Rule one, kitten.”

 

I huffed. “What does that mean, ma’am?”

 

“What it sounds like. When I tell you to do something, you do it.”

 

My arms crossed in front of my chest, the old habit rearing its head. “And if I can’t? Or it’s not safe? Ma’am.”

 

Natalia frowned, glancing down at her open journal page. “You’ll still try. And…and I’m not going to tell you to do anything unsafe, obviously.”

 

I pursed my lips. “How will you know that, though?”

 

“Because you’ll tell me? And because I care about you.”

 

“That’s not a real answer, ma’am.” I felt like she was slowly corralling me into a corner.

 

Natalia pinched the bridge of her nose. “It’s…look. If an order is impossible or dangerous, then it doesn’t count. That’s implied.”

 

I opened my mouth to lash out at her continued ambiguity but paused before I could speak the words.

 

A distant part of my mind—the destructive girl who’d wreaked vengeful havoc for far less—still raged against the prospect of the rule. This was a blank check for mistreatment through malice, error, or both. If Natalia’s intentions ever proved less noble than I’d originally thought, it would be the instrument of my demise. Direct, forceful resistance was my only option in the face of such a blatant threat.

 

But…if the past few weeks had taught me anything, it was not to trust that destructive girl when it came to Natalia. Whenever I’d gone with my gut reactions, they’d led me to make an absolute mess of things. Who was to say this time was any different?

 

After a deep breath or two, I was able to release my death grip on the armrests of my chair. A glance upward revealed Natalia studying me carefully. Guilt and unease crept into her expression.

 

“I won’t push too hard,” she assured me softly. “Promise.”

 

I squeezed my eyes shut. A moment later, the new, obedient Penelope I’d promised myself to become opened them again. “Yes, ma’am.”

 

She smiled. “Good girl.”

 

Obedient Penelope or not, her warm approval remained enough to make me melt. A pleasant quiver worked its way down from the crown of my head to the tips of my toes. How on earth was she capable of affecting me so much with just two words? 

 

Lost in the pleasant feeling, I hardly noticed as she came over to me and reached out a hand toward me. And then she started scratching the nape of my neck, and I definitely noticed that. A low whine in my throat combined with my next gasp, turning it into a whimpering mewl as I pushed back into her touch.

 

My worries dissipated in that moment, if only temporarily. There was no way I could experience this and conclude I’d made the wrong choice in asking for more of it.

 

“Up, little kitten. Time for breakfast.”

 

Her hand remained on my neck as I stood, and acted as a leash or lead of sorts as we walked to the parlor together. It was a comforting presence, helping me keep my head bowed and my mind placid. 

 

Once we arrived, she sat me in her lap and, much to my delight, hand-fed me my breakfast. I leaned back into her chest and snapped up bites from between her fingers with vim. The assorted scones and berries were delicious, yes, but I mainly wanted to prove myself an eager and attentive partner in our intimate dance. Natalia caught on to my habit of lunging for bites relatively quickly and started holding them just outside of my reach for a moment. If asked, she probably would have said she was teaching me patience. But we both knew it was actually just a terribly unfair form of teasing—the cheeky smile on her face when I turned and pouted at her proved as much. 

 

I started straining my neck and leaning forward to try and reach her fingers with my lips earlier. She wrapped an arm around my waist to keep me closer. I started letting out indignant whines and huffs for each delayed morsel. She tutted, hushed me, and said I was “such a fussy kitten.” I saw no reason to deny it. 

 

When the last berry was dangled before me and then finally offered, I took Natalia’s fingers in my mouth and suckled. She chuckled and kissed me on the forehead, then shifted our chair away from the table so a warm sunbeam stretched across our torsos. I hummed in approval and squeezed her closer. 

 

There was something about her presence that permitted me to shut off my fretful mind, some air of safety that allowed me to sink into—

 

“Alright.” Natalia gently pushed me off her lap and stood. “I’m off to work. Be good!”

 

“What?” I blinked in surprise. “No!”

 

“Hush, kitten. I’ve duties to attend to. I’ll see you in the evening, alright?” She leaned over and kissed me on the forehead.

 

And then she was gone.

 

The space where she’d sat a moment before felt like a massive empty void. 

 

She hadn’t done anything wrong—of course she was busy. I knew that. Her routine was the same as usual. Just because we’d agreed to new terms in our relationship, that didn’t mean the rest of our lives would be rearranged in an instant. I knew that.

 

So then why was there an icy ball of anxiety in my chest after her departure?

 

I curled up in the chair, a chill coming over me as the morning sun and my peaceful haze passed on in unison. No longer buoyed by Natalia’s affection, the gravity of the morning pressed down on me harder than ever. What were we doing, exactly? What did it mean to belong to Natalia if the two of us were still spending most of our time on business as usual? How was I supposed to prove I was good when she wasn’t around to see it?

 

My expectations and desires felt like a tangled mess. An hour ago, I’d been scared of giving away too much control. And yet here I was now, fretting over how little Natalia had taken. It was nothing short of ridiculous. There had to be something I was doing wrong, some feeling I was supposed to be having were it not for my ignorance. 

 

Whatever that feeling may have been, it did not come. I sat listlessly in the parlor for another half hour or so before going about the rest of my day, a cloud hanging over my head. My emotions felt sluggish and slow to react. Even the simple pleasures of a light lunch or afternoon gardening strained to hold my attention. And when a particularly uncooperative blackberry bush pricked my finger, I lost interest in the day altogether and resigned myself to moping in my room.

 

Natalia found me there in the early evening, lying on my side in bed staring out of the window.

 

“Everything alright?”

 

“Sure,” I scooted over to give her room to sit. “Yes, ma’am.”

 

“Okay.” The mattress beneath me bounced and heaved as Natalia sat down hard, the ranger letting out a tired sigh. I watched as she removed her boots and let them drop to the floor with a pair of heavy thuds.

 

She reached over and gently stroked my hair. “Tough day?”

 

I shrugged. “I…it’s been a lot, ma’am.”

 

She nodded. “It has.”

 

Still lying on my side, I wrapped my body around the back of her seated form and put my head on her thigh. She grabbed and held the back of my neck with just a hint of pressure—gentle but firm. It felt like a practiced gesture. 

 

My thoughts returned to Natalia’s pre-existing ideas and enthusiasm for our arrangement. I shifted my head to look up at her. “Have you done this before with anyone, ma’am? The rules and such?”

 

Natalia hesitated before speaking slowly and deliberately. “Yes. Somewhat. I’d do scouting runs with her. Long journeys, nights sleeping far from camp.  We were the same rank, but she’d barely spent any time in the wilds. I tutored her, and eventually…well. Neither of us spoke to it directly, but we both saw how she idolized me. How she wanted to impress me, how she looked to me for direction.”

 

“Did you love her?” I cut in, more curious than jealous or insecure. I felt as though I was catching a glimpse of Natalia in another time and place, and it fascinated me. For all we’d been through in the past few weeks, I still felt as though I knew surprisingly little about her. 

 

She considered my question for a moment. “I suppose I did love her. Not romantically, but as one might love a close companion.”

 

“And were the two of you, um, intimate?”

 

“No.” She shook her head. “It occurred to me more than once but never came up. I suppose it didn’t ever feel necessary? Soft touches and her sleeping in my arms were enough.”

 

“What happened with the two of you?”

 

“I was promoted. She wasn’t.” Natalia said bluntly. 

 

“Oh.” I nuzzled her thigh, wanting to comfort her but lacking the right words. She scratched my scalp appreciatively. I gave a happy sigh. “What was her name?”

 

“Danica.”

 

“Mm. Pretty.” I trailed my fingers over Natalia’s thigh, feeling the muscles beneath. I suddenly noticed I felt more present than I’d been all day. There was no crest of euphoria to ride nor any trough of doubt to wallow in. I was just talking to my wife as…not equals, but as whatever we were. I felt somewhat embarrassed I’d ever been so out of sorts to begin with. At least Natalia didn’t have to know. 

 

I glanced up at her. She was looking out the window, her intense brown eyes tinged with melancholy nostalgia. Somewhere along our tour of her past, she’d apparently gotten stuck.

 

It was my duty as her kitten to help bring her back.

 

I wriggled around until I was fully seated on her lap, sitting up just enough to pepper her chin and jaw with light kisses. Natalia blinked, then smiled warmly and squeezed me closer. “Hello, kitten.”

 

“Hello, ma’am,” I whispered. “Sad memories?”

 

“No, no.” Natalia started giving me long, slow pets down my neck and back with both hands. I preened at the attention. “Not sad. Just appreciating what I had and what I’ve found since.”

 

I hummed and pressed my face against her chest.

 

“Thank you for asking,” Natalia added hastily after a brief pause. “Or…good kitten. For asking. And listening. You’re very good.”

 

A shudder worked through me as I made a light, happy squeak. Her approval brought relief and joy. It reassured me I was on the right path and that she didn’t feel the need to grow harsher or colder. As long as I kept earning it, anyway. 

 

“Thank you, ma’am.”

 

I allowed myself to relax against her body, wrapping my arms around her torso in a loose hug. Natalia closed her eyes and continued petting me, a faint smile on her lips. 

 

**

 

The rest of the week followed a similar pattern. There were moments when I could find the feeling of being controlled—usually when I was actually with Natalia—and much longer stretches when I couldn’t. Worries of accidental disobedience or insufficient performance continued to plague me, growing worse as we settled into our roles. 

 

It wasn’t all bad. The greater my dedication, the greater satisfaction I gained from signs of Natalia’s approval. And even without it, the increased structure and limitations on my behavior gave me the feeling of being controlled I’d longed for. There were even brief periods when I could set aside my anxieties and take comfort in submitting to Natalia and obeying her orders.

 

“On your hands and knees,” she declared one evening just after dinner. “Kittens don’t walk upright.”

 

I looked up at her in confusion. Was she being serious?

 

“Come on,” she cooed, bending over and putting her hands on her knees to talk down to me. “You can do it!”

 

She was. She actually wanted me to debase myself by getting down to the ground just like…just like a good little adorable spoiled kitten. 

 

A wave of heat spread across my body as I realized her true intent. This wasn’t debasement; it was an opportunity to give myself more fully to her. Natalia’s soft reassurances and non threatening stance were evidence of that. She was helping me down. And I…despite my initial hesitancy, I wanted to go to that simpler state of mind. To let her think for me and let instinct take the reins.

 

Blushing furiously, I tucked my skirt out of the way and sank down to my hands and knees.

 

“Good girl!” Natalia chuckled to herself and stood tall again. She started down the hallway at a brisk pace, not looking back at me. “Come!”

 

I scrambled to follow her, no doubt with all the grace of a clumsy newborn kitten. From this low to the floor, my perspective was quite different—distances seemed longer, furniture larger, and Natalia far more impressive in stature. I glanced up at her whenever I was able, taking in her majesty and how small I was before her. It made me feel far meeker than usual. Not cowed, necessarily, but hushed in both voice and thought. All I could focus on was how much I wanted to belong to and please my Miss. 

 

When Natalia paused before our bedroom door, I became overwhelmed by that feeling and rubbed my face against her calf. She looked down at me and smiled, her face flush and eyes bright as if from drunkenness. 

 

“Meow for me,” she ordered almost sheepishly.

 

That, at least, was no issue—I’d spend many afternoons growing up conversing with Harold, the palace’s old stable cat. “Mrrow!”

 

Natalia put a hand over her heart and let out a surprised and delighted belly laugh. “Oh my. There she is. Yes, dear. Hello. Do you want me to pet you?”

 

Her reaction made my blush brighten, but the embarrassment was overwhelmed by my giddy excitement. Most importantly, I did want her to pet me. And I knew the best way to ask.

 

“Meow!”

 

Moments like those were both the standard I strove to follow and my greatest source of comfort when my spirits were low. Unfortunately, low spirits proved the rule rather than the exception—especially as Natalia’s list of rules more than doubled in size within a few days of its conception. 

 

“I’ve just had an idea,” Natalia declared one morning as she jumped out of bed, an excited gleam in her eye. She grabbed her journal and started writing. “Rule four: You may only start eating after I do.”

 

The next day, her journal was out again. “Rule five: You will inform me of your daily plans each morning.”

 

And once more the day after that. “Rule six: When we walk together, you will stay behind me and to my right.”

 

“Rule seven: You will always be honest with me.”

 

“Rule eight: You are to treat me with respect and deference.”

 

Wary of forgetful errors, I started spending more time each day reciting and memorizing my new expectations. When Natalia was around, I triple-checked each of my words and actions to ensure they weren’t against the rules. Rule eight in particular was a constant source of stress—lacking a concrete sense of what was or was not sufficiently respectful and deferent, I erred on the side of caution and became much quieter and more demure.

 

After a few days of being caught up in her own enthusiasm, Natalia began to notice my altered behavior—how I froze in place for a second or two before walking anywhere to ensure I was in the right spot or frequently cut myself off mid-sentence to avoid saying anything disrespectful. But her reactions to it were difficult to read. Sometimes, she’d give a small smile or praise me when she saw me correct myself. Other times, she’d crease her brow and stroke her chin, appearing perturbed enough that I’d worry I disappointed her.

 

And then she grew stricter, and my worries were proven correct. 

 

“Closer,” she ordered as she led me to dinner, watching me out of the corner of her eye. “And match pace with me. Otherwise, you’ll trip over yourself.” 

 

I hurried to comply, mentally kicking myself for faltering. 

 

On one occasion, she held up a finger and shot me a sharp look at the start of lunch. I waited with bated breath, a fork full of potato in hand.

 

She swallowed. “Not until I’ve finished my first bite, kitten.”

 

I nodded and lowered my eyes. “Sorry, ma’am.” My heart beat fast in my chest.

 

“There’s nothing to be sorry for. You didn’t know.” Natalia reached across the table to squeeze my hand. I gave her a weak smile.

 

By the end of the week, my nerves were raw, I was running on a deficit of sleep, and my appetite was sparse. But I hadn’t disobeyed once, and that was what mattered.

 

“Do you need anything, my princess?” asked Thea on the morning of my eighth day under Natalia’s control. The lady-in-waiting stood patiently by the door, having just helped me into a mauve dress, petticoats, and a subtle corset. 

 

“Tea.” I rubbed my bleary eyes. I’d spent the previous night alone—Natalia was off ‘inspecting the logistics’ of something or other. I felt somewhat relieved that she was absent and guilty about my relief. 

 

“Yes, princess.” Thea disappeared. 

 

I wandered over to the parlor, still too drowsy for particularly coherent thought. I didn’t need it yet anyway. Birds sang outside, swaying on tree branches caught in the gentle morning breeze. There was an ache behind my eyes and a sour taste in my mouth. I wondered when Natalia would be back. She’d said today but hadn’t been any more specific. I wondered if she’d still want me to tell her my plans for the day when she returned. I wondered if she’d be upset with me when I said I didn’t have any. I wondered—

 

“Oh!”

 

Entering the room, Thea tripped over the doorway. The teacup and saucer in her hand went flying, spewing drops of hot liquid before shattering against the floor in a great crash.

 

Shock and terror gripped me for only an instant. It was still enough to ignite my days of discontent into a great inferno of rage.

 

“You idiot!” I shrieked, clenching my fists hard enough for my arms to tremble.

 

“Sorry, my princess,” Thea murmured. She kept her eyes low as she quickly gathered the shards of ceramic. 

 

“Things like this cannot happen.” I glared down at her. “I’m—we’re—held to a higher standard than that. Do you understand?”

 

Thea nodded. “Yes, princess.” She turned to leave. 

 

I wouldn’t let her yet. “Then why did you do it?”

 

The servant paused, clearly not expecting the question. “It was a mistake, princess.”

 

I scoffed. “I’m aware of that. Tell me: Do you think I’m allowed to make mistakes, Thea?”

 

“I…” Thea inched backward toward the door, seemingly at a loss for words. Palpable discomfort was written across her face.

 

I was making her feel that way.

 

I was playing the role of the harsh disciplinarian myself, exercising my power to harm another. The realization snuffed out my anger so only guilt remained.

 

How quickly and naturally the role had come to me.

 

I knew how much screamed insults and harsh corrections could hurt, and yet I’d reached for them immediately at the slightest inconvenience. Any decent person would have used their pain to learn compassion and empathy. I’d studied mine to learn how best to twist the knife. 

 

Seeing that in real time made me sick to my stomach.

 

“Never mind,” I sighed, rubbing my temples. “I’m sorry I yelled, Thea. You didn’t do anything wrong.” The words were unpleasant to hear out loud, but not saying them would be far worse. “And you’re not an idiot. I just…I’m sorry. There’s no excuse for that.” 

 

Thea stared at me with wide, baffled eyes.

 

“You can go if you like. I’ll clean the spill.”

 

The lady-in-waiting did not need to be told twice. She fled with a tiny curtsy and a “yes, princess.” 

 

I went to the linen closet, taking long steps to stretch my legs along the way. As I searched for a suitable dishrag, my mind wandered back to when I’d hid in this very spot weeks ago. Back then, I’d been distraught wanting something I didn’t understand. Now, I feared I couldn’t have what was making me so distraught. 

 

I grabbed a shoddy rag from the bottom shelf and walked back to the parlor.

 

I had to tell Natalia what happened. It would get back to her regardless—better for her to hear it from me first. Especially since rule seven demanded my honesty. I hadn’t technically broken any rules, but my conduct had clearly been way out of line.

 

I’d failed.

 

I slapped the dishrag down onto the floor and started sopping up spilled tea.

 

My attempt to change my ways had barely lasted a week before crashing back into reality. Apparently, obedience just wasn’t in my nature. Selene and all my teachers must have seen that and recognized the necessity of punishment to compensate. And now Natalia was about to as well. 

 

I finished cleaning. I kept running the dishrag over the hardwood floor in jerky, circular motions.

 

Maybe everyone hadn’t mistreated me at all—maybe I was just a bad apple they’d been keeping in check to the best of their ability. What was it I’d said to Natalia during our picnic? A fourth born princess is a feral beast? How fitting. 

 

I tossed my rag into the corner and slumped down to the ground, spent.

 

Time passed. I pointedly ignored it, running my fingers over seams in the floorboards.

 

Thea came by at one point, hovering by the doorway. “Are you alright, princess?”

 

“Yes. Sorry. Again.” My voice was flat.

 

Thea hesitated for a moment. “Is there anything you need?”

 

“No. Thank you.”

 

“Yes, princess.” She left.

 

There were a lot of seams in the floorboards, I discovered. I’d never been down so low for so long to check before. 

 

I was in the process of counting them when Thea reappeared, two plates of food in hand. “I thought you might want lunch. And company.”

 

I pushed myself up to a seated position and shrugged. “Okay.”

 

She set the plates of chicken and wild rice down on the floor, taking a seat beside me. We mostly ate in silence, but the food and her presence helped to drag me out of the ditch I’d fallen into.

 

“Are you upset with me?” I asked her toward the end of our meal, my eyes fixed on the chicken bone I was pushing around my plate.

 

“Not particularly.” 

 

I met her eyes. They were guarded, but not fearful. “Why?”

 

Thea shifted uncomfortably. “Well, you seemed tired and upset. And…” her voice trailed off.

 

“And?”

 

“…May I be frank, my princess?”

 

I nodded, curious if somewhat wary. “Yes.”

 

A bit of tension drained from the servant’s shoulders. “I learned long ago that it’s not worth taking those sorts of things from you personally.”

 

I frowned. Her words weren’t the harsh reality I’d been expecting, but they didn’t exactly comfort me either. Not that they had to—with the way I’d treated Thea, she didn’t owe me anything. It was yet another reminder of my long list of misdeeds. “But I still shouldn’t be doing them.”

 

She cocked her head to the side, then tentatively nodded. “I suppose so.”

 

We finished the rest of our meal in silence. Thea then took our plates and stood, her knees popping as she rose from the floor. “I appreciate the apology, princess.”

 

I blinked and stood up after her. “Oh. Um. Thank you.”

 

Thea nodded and left me alone with my thoughts.

 

Our meal provided the boost of energy I needed to stop wallowing in the parlor. Instead, I got up and wandered around the estate grounds for a bit, taking in lots of sunlight and little of the scenery. For while my body had successfully moved, my attention was very much still trapped inside my head while I waited for Natalia to return. 

 

Not knowing what was in store allowed my imagination to run wild with lurid images of what our relationship might become or disintegrate into. I’d be carefully kept away from the public to avoid any further embarrassments. I’d start glancing over my shoulder again as I walked through the manor, never quite able to escape her suspicious eye and harsh corrections. I’d have to live knowing I’d squandered my chance at a caring lover.

 

As I pictured each scenario in my mind, my stoic resignation began to waver. 

 

And as I saw Natalia’s carriage appear far down the road, terror made my chest clench so hard I thought it would collapse in on itself.

 

‘Run,’ screamed the destructive girl inside my head. ‘Get away so you can strike first.’

 

I obeyed her on instinct, sprinting inside the manor. Forget waiting around for my fate—I would go down fighting. I was only as defenseless as I allowed myself to be, after all. I’d go to the kitchens and start a fire, burn everything to the ground before it could be taken away from me.

 

Except that was a terrible idea, and I knew it. 

 

The sound of rattling carriage wheels approached. I froze in the middle of the entrance hall. 

 

Lashing out at one of the few people who’d shown me kindness wouldn’t solve my problem, and doing it in such a drastic way would be remarkably selfish and stupid. Natalia hadn’t even turned cruel yet. There was still time for me to throw myself at her feet and beg for mercy. Kneel as I had knelt before and hope by some miracle it would work again.

 

Except that was a terrible idea, and I knew it.

 

When I’d knelt before, there had been no expectations established between us. I’d simply been her wife apologizing for a relatively minor outburst. Now, though, I was beholden to Natalia and had violated the nature of her authority over me. The stakes were far higher; much more was required of her to restore order and balance. I would be pushed back down into my place via force. That was just how power worked. Kneeling made me too vulnerable to that inevitable outcome. I couldn’t just let her hurt me.

 

Natalia exited the carriage and approached the manor. Lacking any concrete plan, I settled for standing ramrod straight from the corner of the room, eyes trained on the door. My legs shook beneath my skirts.

I flinched as the heavy front door swung open and Natalia entered, clad in the dark gray double-breasted coat and trousers typical of an officer. Gold-colored lace was wrapped around her cuffs, belt, and collar. The uniform was slightly creased and crumpled from the travel but otherwise fit neatly. I took in every detail of it, unable to bring myself to look up at the expression on her face. She took two steps into the room, then stopped on a dime as she noticed me.

 

“Penelope?” She spoke as if addressing a wild animal. “What’s wrong?”

 

I sucked in a breath through gritted teeth. “I am.”