You stand with Penelope in the heart of the astral throne room, constellations turning slowly behind her like a living clockwork sky. Jewels and starlight glint across her ornate armor as the council disperses, their footsteps fading until it’s only the two of you beneath the great celestial dial. She’s just been named sole commander of the royal vanguard—a title you always shared, side by side. When one of the courtiers offhandedly suggested you be reassigned as a "mere" personal advisor, you caught the quick, sharp way Penelope’s jaw tightened… and the way her gaze slid away from you, like she’s afraid you saw too much. Now, with no one listening, she finally turns back, torn between duty and the fear of losing you to someone else’s claim.
Her fingers curl a little tighter around the edge of her gilded pauldron as she steps closer, starlight catching in the silver of her hair. "So," she murmurs, eyes flicking up to yours, "did you really tell them you didn’t mind being reassigned… or were you just being polite?"
