Squeak. Clang!
Penelope, who was dragged somewhere by the guards with all her strength gone, suddenly came to her senses at the sharp sound of scraping iron.
She realized where she was and hung on to the guards' arms.
"Where am I! Why did you bring me here! No! I said no!"
"Let go!"
The guard, whose neck and arms were scratched by the struggling Penelope, got annoyed and pushed her away.
Penelope lost her balance and fell, rolling around in the cold, slippery iron bowl.
Crunch!
"Ugh! What is this!"
There was a terrible smell.
Penelope screamed in horror when she realized it was a chamber pot.
Meanwhile, the guards chuckled, locked her up, and left.
"Come back! Come back! Aaah! Let me wash! I need to change my clothes! Come back!"
Penelope, not knowing what to do with her body covered in filth, froze and screamed until her throat was hoarse.
But the guards did not return, and the prison guards only clicked their tongues and pounded on the iron door at the prison entrance.
"Be quiet!"
The guard who usually oppresses prisoners let out a threatening yell that was on a whole other level than just yelling out of frustration.
Penelope flinched and closed her mouth.
"Huh, huh!"
Tears welled up in her eyes. She felt like she was going crazy as she sat on the cold stone floor, covered in filth dripping from her sleeves and skirt. The slap on her cheek from Countess Weatherby also hurt too much.
"This is a dream. This, this is a dream..."
Could I survive even one day in a place like this?
After a long time of denying reality.
Penelope finally came to her senses and took off her soiled outer garment, throwing it in a corner.
Her body still stinks, but it's better than before.
She looked around for a clean place where there was no dirt splashed.
There was a small window the size of a palm near the ceiling, through which one could see the surroundings.
That doesn't mean It was hopeful though.
Upon closer inspection, she noticed that there was no clean space. She thought it would be better to not see it and not know about it.
This was a prison attached to the courthouse, where felons were temporarily held.
Penelope was now to remain here until she was tried and sentenced for poisoning the Countess of Weatherby and the Baroness of Beaumont.
"I won't let this go! I'm definitely going to get out of here!"
Penelope gritted her teeth and muttered.
The Duke of Linchester will spare her...
All of this was done with the Duke, so if he finds her trapped in a place like this, he will come forward.
But she wasn't sure if she could survive even one day in this horrible place. She thought that maybe by tomorrow she would be crazy or dead.
The next day, Penelope woke up completely fine, her worries from the previous day in vain.
Penelope waited for the Duke of Linchester to come to her rescue quickly.
She didn't even touch the tasteless soup and bread that was served twice a day. She didn't feel like eating food with her dirty, unwashed body. Her stomach was upset and she felt like she was going to vomit.
But after about three days, Penelope wiped her hands on her petticoat and picked up some bread to eat.
After about four days, she took the skirt that she had thrown in the corner and put it under her body as a blanket. The filth had dried and it smelled terrible, but she could bear it because her nose was numb from the smell coming from her body.
The cold was more unbearable than the smell. Even though it was early summer, it was too cold to sit naked on the stone floor in this basement.
Penelope rolled over onto her side and sobbed.
Why hasn't the Duke of Linchester contacted me yet? And why hasn't Isaac shown up even when he should be visiting?
Didn't her father or mother get the message that she was here? Or were they running around trying to save me?
'I wish I could get out quickly.'
It was about six days later.
The sound of shoes clicking could be heard in Penelope's ears as she escaped reality by sleeping.
Penelope sat up, convinced that it was he who had come to rescue her.
But it was Bridget standing outside the bars.
Clean clothes, neat hair, well-groomed hands...
Penelope was moved by the sight and calm expression of Bridget compared to her own.
"You bitch! How dare you come here! It's because of you! I got into this mess! Do you want to die?"
Penelope, her eyes wide with anger, picked up the chamber pot and poured Its contents over Bridget.
But a black knight emerged from her shadow and raised his shield to block it.
Not a single drop splashed on Bridget.
Instead, It was Penelope who got covered in filth.
"Ahhhh!"
Penelope, in a fit of rage, grabbed the bars and waved her hands at Bridget.
Bridget stood just far enough away to touch her, but not quite, and spoke calmly.
"I gave you countless chances. If only you had stopped. If only you had stayed still. it wouldn't have come to this."
"Chances? Who are you! Who are you to talk like you're looking at me!! Who are you!"
Bridget pointed out things Penelope could have had but let go of.
"If you had not coveted my husband, you would have been living well in Bellingham Estate, treated as a former Countess by the Bellingham family. Or, if you had not sought the position of Viscountess Winston and had been determined to live quietly by my side, you might have managed to live in a corner of Winston Manor. Or at least. If you had told Isaac the truth and taken your daughter back, you would have been abandoned by Isaac, but you could have lived with your daughter in the Hudson House, under the care of your parents."
"What's the point of that! What kind of opportunity is that!"
"So, kicking them all away and being here is an opportunity you can accept? Is this the outcome you wanted?"
Bridget chuckled.
That laughter drove Penelope crazy.
"It's because of you! If only it weren't for you! If only It weren't for you, I would be...!"
"What now? You'd probably be doing the same thing to someone else you could trample on. If I wasn't here, you'd be here, according to what you said."
"What? Are you done talking?"
"So do you really think this is all my fault?"
"Yes! It's your fault. You're the one who ruined my life! You shouldn't be better than me! You were at the bottom of the ladder! How can you have better things than I have? That's not fair!!"
Bridget laughed.
She shrugged her shoulders and laughed as if she had heard a funny story, and then he couldn't hold it back anymore and laughed out loud.
"Yes, I believe that and live like that. I hope you don't keep looking back at yourself. I hope you live in the hell you created by cursing me and hating me like that, stabbing yourself. Don't realize, reflect, and repent. I hope you'll never know your mistakes and feel wronged until the day you die."
Bridget turned around with a relieved face.
"I was afraid that I might feel sorry for you while I was coming here. Fortunately, I will not have to attend the upcoming trial. The Countess Weatherby and the Baroness Beaumont are so determined that I will not have any room to interfere. So let us take our leave here."
And then she crushed Penelope's last hope.
"Oh, and don't you dare think that the Duke of Linchester will help you. Your nanny ran away the day you came here."
"What? Say it again! What did you just say? Who ran away? Hey! You're lying! You're lying!"
Bridget leisurely walked away, leaving Penelope hanging from the bars and wailing.
As the iron gate slammed shut, Penelope finally pleaded.
"Come back, Bridget! Please! I was wrong! Come back! Please... Save me! Forgive me... !"
Penelope slumped down.
"Please, I beg you..."
But her voice did not reach Bridget.
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