Penelope and Damien spent their time in the forest which extended for an hour or so where they spent their time talking to each other, the little things that helped them understand each other. When the time finally arrived to leave, Damien only had to touch Penny’s palm and in an instant, they were transported back to the village which was where Bathsheba once used to live before the hunter had attacked her.
She looked around the place, the villagers had not realized the two new people who had only entered the village without walking in. They made their way to the Isle town.
Seeing Penny’s face turn dull and pensive, Damien said, “Don’t think about what happened when you last visited here. There are plenty of slaves that come and go with their master and mistresses.”
“I know,” Penny responded back, her green eyes staring at the people who were looking at them.
“The reason why they are looking at you is not for what happened last time when you were here but because for what you are and how you look right now,” She heard Damien say next to her as they walked, their feet stepping on the stony cemented ground where the path was cleaned when snow had fallen so that the visitors could come and go without the interference of the weather or the snow itself.
He was right. Penelope was used to the glares that people sent her since she was young but right now people looked at her with a sense of curiosity. A hint of jealousy and intrigue in their eyes.
“I haven’t received this kind of attention until now,” she muttered her breath which had him smiling.
“Enjoy it,” he commented with his hand that rested on her back as they walked into the crowd of posh and the sham full of the society of politeness where rich people visited the Isle Valley.
Truth was that the last when she had been here, people had not spared her a proper glance at her. She was someone’s slave which made her a person of no importance. People weren’t looking at her just because of the way she was looking. It was because of the person whom she was walking next to.
Without taking permission to ask, Penelope asked, “How many ladies do you bring here to shop and stroll?” she could already feel the grin on his lips turning wide to her words, “Nevermind, you don’t have to answer the question.”
“Oh, no, please do ask me questions. What would I do if you stopped asking questions? You cannot tell you aren’t jealous,” Penny huffed.
“I am not. There’s nothing to be jealous about.”
“Keep denying, darling,” he teased her, the smile stretching wide enough for her to retort,
“You will look like a haunted ghost in the abandoned house children speak of if you smile anymore wider.”
“The joy you bring me. I don’t think any shop here can buy something as priceless as your words.”
“You are very good with your words,” he knew what to say at any point in time, his words always coming out to be charming or coming out to look down at a person.
Walking further more on the corner of the street, both Penelope and Damien caught sight of a man who was acquainted with Damien. She didn’t remember his name but his face was clear in her mind. It was because of the time back in the mansion when Damien had taken her where the maid had been beaten.
“Damien, what a lovely surprise,” the man came forward with a smile on his face which was bright enough to make one look away.
“Reverale,” Damien said the man’s last name, “I was expecting you here,” he smiled at the pureblooded vampire, “Knowing you have very little work to do, this is one of your favourie places to walk. Did you find any lady to walk with or are you alone?”
This was what Penny was talking about in her mind, his ability to look down at people was on point and he looked at people with a calm face like he was only exchanging good words.
“Unfortunately, I haven’t but I am hoping to find someone here,” the man named Reverale turned his gaze on Penelope, his lips still smiling, “Every time I see your slave, she only gets dolled up in fine clothes. It makes me wish that I was there the day she was being sold in the market. You did well with paying five thousand gold coins,” the man rambled on. Penny didn’t bother to hide the distaste she felt looking at the man and his gaze.
“Whom are you calling a slave?” It wasn’t Damien but Penny who spoke to the man. Her face looked at him with an unimpressed expression.
Reverale didn’t take her words seriously. He laughed instead, his eyes shining brightly as he continued to stare at her, and addressing Damien as he spoke, “Your slave is untrained. You need to fix her attitude before she falls into trouble.”
“She isn’t a slave,” Damien corrected the man, a yawn passing through his lips to show Reverale of how bored he was in this additional company now.
“What do you mean she isn’t a slave? You brought her from the black market and paid for her. I thought it was an outrageous amount but now looking at her like this, I don’t think you did wrong,” Mr. Reverale continued to rave about it without trying to understand the gist, “I mean look at her,” his eyes fell down to her shoulders and then her chest, “You can see those big round-”
SLAP.
People who were walking by paused their footsteps, their feet almost slowing down to see the drama that was about to rise in the middle of the street before they quietly continued to walk.
Reverale had stopped talking with the little impact that had been caused by the kiss of the hand on his cheek. It wasn’t Damien who had slapped him but Penelope which was why the man stood still with his face turned to his right side.
