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Penelope’s first crush was on one of her ladies’ sons. He wasn’t often allowed to spend time with her, but he had a playful demeanor and a lack of reverence that made him instantly feel like a friend. He gave her nicknames, calling her sweet things that reminded him of the spring, naming her after birds and flowers and light. He turned every blank moment into a game and every fact a secret. She felt special when she was with him, like she was part of a different, more vibrant world.
She told Lisle all of this one day as he was braiding her hair, weaving flowers into the loose, messy plaits. Usually, she found having her hair brushed and played with calming, but the sun in the field brought her bountiful energy, and she worked herself into such passion that she was nearly incoherent, before all at once, her storm of words hit a pause.
“I think… I think I might love him.” Pen spoke so softly that her words were nearly lost in the wind.
A weight settled onto Lisle's chest. He recognized her fear, the emotions too big for her to contain, the doubt and guilt brought by her misgivings that the chosen target of her affection might have been inappropriate. He understood her far too well, and he didn't want her to ever feel he did, but they were doomed, the both of them.
“I...might...too,” Lisle confessed. He had seen the way he made her laugh, and there was little in the world he treasured more.
Lisle’s first crush was on one of her ladies’ sons.
“Oh! Oh.” Pen’s back straightened out. She didn’t turn to face him. When she spoke, the words tumbled out of her, a deluge to wash away her thoughts. “If that’s the case, I’ll root for you. You two are probably a better match than him and me. You’re the same age, right? I don’t think he takes me seriously sometimes, but I bet he would with you. You don’t have to worry about my feelings if that’s what you want.”
“We wouldn’t be a good match. Not even if he liked me. Not even if he had status. No one would support us because we’re both boys.” Lisle tried to lay out the facts for her as plainly as possible. He still didn’t fully grasp the expectations and politics of his position himself, and he didn’t want to burden her with speculation. The simple truth was enough of a burden, anyway.
“Oh.” She took in a sharp breath.
Lisle moved to crouch in front of her. One of her hands was gripping her elbow, both arms tucked tightly in by her sides. She didn’t meet his eyes. “Pen? What’s on your mind?” he asked. He leaned forward, tipping his head as he tried to dip into her line of sight.
Pen’s shoulders hitched, and when she finally mustered the composure to speak, her voice wobbled with each word. "You and me, we're of the same status. If you can't love him, then I--"
"It's the same for you," Lisle confirmed.
There was a pause as Penelope understood what he said. "We can't love him? Why can’t we love him? It’s not fair.”
Lisle pulled her into a hug, her head pressed into his shoulder, trembling hands on her trembling back. Positioned like that, he could hide his reddening eyes. “It’s not. You’re right. It’s not.”
“Are we ever going to be able to love anyone?”
“I love you,” Lisle told her, sniffling. “We won’t be alone. We have each other.”
--
The king and queen wanted their children to marry individuals of high status. They wanted a lineage from their children above, it often seemed, anything else. It was a simple fact of their lives, something understood, but rarely discussed.
When both Penelope and Lisle were teenagers, actual marriage was years off, but still inevitable. Simple comments and conversations with their parents assumed a future they had learned not to dread. Lisle and Penelope shared many understanding glances through many awkward meals. Over the years, the looks dwindled, replaced with a sullen understanding that didn't need any acknowledgement.
Penelope didn’t expect to find love, not when she was kept sequestered in the castle. An enjoyable marriage had never been an option for her when she rarely saw anyone outside her family and her servants. She didn’t even have friends. Some days, the loneliness bothered her, but she was always quick to smother it with a smile. She had her brother as an ally, whatever her future held, and that would have to be enough for her.
Like her, Lisle had low expectations from marriage. Whatever happened, whoever he ended up with, he’d be settling for something less than what he wanted, and every time he'd pine over someone new he'd be hit again with the understanding that it would never be anything more.
--
Penelope had been waiting for Lisle, pressed against the wall of the hall outside the parlor, and she peeled away to follow as he marched out of the room. "Another potential suitor, huh?" she teased, though the humor in her voice fell flat. She had come to recognize the fraught expression he wore whenever marriage was discussed.
"I'm arranged to have dinner with a duchess from Arland," Lisle confirmed. He thought she was from Arland, though his parents had brought up many names in their discussion and they had all started to blur together in his head. He wasn't sure he wanted to remember her. That would only make it easier for him to be bitter towards her, something she likely didn't deserve.
"What did they tell you about her?"
"Beyond her name and status? Little else matters, it seems," Lisle sighed. He hadn't known of her by reputation before. He didn't know whether to take it as an ill omen or a good one.
"I see," Penelope said.
Lisle waited for her to continue. He wanted her to continue so that he wouldn't be stuck with only his own dark thoughts echoing in his head. "I'm beginning to hope that one of these dates will go well," he said to fill the space. "At least then I'll be done with this process."
"I envy you, a little. When they talk about marriage with me, they don't mention options. My future spouse is only hypothetical. When I get married, it'll be to the concept of marriage itself," she joked.
Lisle buried his face in his hand. "We don't have power here. Why don't we have power here? We're preparing to be among the most powerful people in this country and still we have no control over our fates."
Penelope squeezed his elbow to comfort him, and it worked, a little, feeling the gentle pressure. It helped remind him that he wasn't alone.
--
“I’m going to marry the Grand Duke,” Penelope announced. Lisle had become skilled at braiding, years of practice guiding his nimble fingers as he wove patterns into her hair.
Lisle shuffled the ropes of her hair into one hand so that he could pull the pins from his mouth to secure them. As such, there was a long pause before he said,”You don’t have to. You deserve better than that wretched man.”
Penelope exhaled a breath of a laugh. “It’s rare to hear you so spiteful.”
“He’s earned it. He’s miserable, and he’d only drag you down with him,” Lisle insisted, sounding harsher than he had intended. She was right, and there couldn't have been a worse time for his practiced tact to fail him. He took a moment to compose himself, curling his fingers and toes, grounding himself in his body to step away from his own emotions, and missed his chance to follow up on his point.
Penelope smiled softly. He hoped it was a performance, he desperately wanted it to be one, but he couldn’t sense any trace of dishonesty from her. “Maybe he is, but it’s alright. It’s only a political marriage. I don’t love him, but I don’t have to, do I?”
“You don’t have to love him. I want you to love your future spouse, though. They should be someone who can make you happy.” Bitterness churned in his stomach at the thought of his sweet sister attaching herself to such a monster. He wouldn’t let that happen.
"Don't you always say it's dangerous for people in our position to fall in love, your highness?" Her voice was small-- steady, but lacking the bite that usually came with the nickname.
The words were a mantra to him, anymore, and he hated them more than ever hearing them come from her mouth. "Then you don't have to marry at all. Don't, if it's to him. Please don't."
Penelope shook her head. "I won't stay as I am forever while everyone around me moves on."
"You could find someone worth the danger." In his desperation, all his arguments had lost cohesion, he knew that, and he was making himself into a fool. He couldn't control himself. His throat was tight and there was a pressure behind his eyes and everything inside him needed to spill out.
“That sounds wonderful, but I don’t have many options. It’s alright with me if my marriage is more useful than loving,” Penelope said. It devastated him how she didn't waver. “You’ll always be around, and that’s more than enough love for me. I want to be useful, even. I'm happy that this is something I can do for our family.”
“A political marriage doesn’t suit you,” Lisle tried.
“I can handle it. Besides, you’re doing the same.”
Lisle resumed his braiding in miserable silence, moving through the motions automatically. After so many years with mirrored attitudes towards love, her feelings once again imitated his. If she had adopted this from him, maybe some of the blame for her words belonged to him. Maybe his own jaded bitterness had turned her away from happiness, and he couldn't let that happen.
“The summit is approaching,” Lisle said. “Possible suitors from every nation are going to gather there. You don’t have to make your decision yet. Please, Pen, wait until after the summit. You’ll see that you have more options than just the Grand Duke.”
Penelope stared down at her folded hands, a thumb worrying along her knuckes. “I don’t know that I will. Even if they’re looking for love, everyone will have other options. I don’t know how to make friends. If it’s not for an alliance, why would anyone give me a second look?”
“The first look is all anyone will need to fall in love with you,” Lisle promised.
After a tense silence, she finally, slowly nodded. “Alright. I’ll go.”
Lisle sighed in relief. Anyone else might have missed the spark of hope in her voice, but he knew her too well. It was proof enough for him to know that she didn't want to marry the Grand Duke, not really. With a nudge from someone new, someone kind who could see all the good in her that he saw, she could still be swayed, so he had hope, too.