Work Text:
He looked up at her with devoted gray eyes that shined with affection before lowering his head. His shoulder blades edged together as his arms bent to lower his head. A swift pink tongue flickered out to lick slowly along the pale white skin of her foot. Penelope smothered a surprised gasp, her leg jerking in his tight hold but unable to escape.
The man paid no mind to her shock as he continued to lick along the top of her foot. There was no disgust or hesitance; he acted as though it was the greatest honor, as though were a real dog who knew no shame or humility.
When he finished, he looked up at her with heat-filled gray eyes that reflected her own stunned figure in their hazy depths. When Penelope didn't say anything, his mouth dropped open to let out a breathy "Master" as he leaned back.
Penelope's eyes unwillingly flew to his crotch where the proof of his arousal laid. Truly, instead of shame, this man had gotten hard prostrating himself at her feet. The crotch of his pants was tented upward, forming a large bulge that was impossible to mistake.
Penelope swallowed and looked up again to meet his eyes. The man didn't even bother hiding his shame from her, so far gone was his mind that he only saw his master. Without her command, he merely stared at her, memorized with her beauty in the moonlight.
Even though he didn't do anything, his palm still rested heavy around her leg, an undeniable proof of his strength and will.
".... What do you want?" She finally asked, her mouth so dry the words came out as a whisper. The man at her feet tilted his head slightly, an action that once would have come off as cute now held a predatory feel to it.
The tension in Penelope returned as she stared down at him. His piercing gray eyes seemed to pierce her soul. "... Nothing.... there is nothing I want that Master does not want....."
Before he had even finished, Penelope felt a burst of anger within her. 'There is nothing he wants that she does not?' Where did he find the boldness to say such words? That couldn't be further than the truth.
When had she asked him to kiss her feet? When had she asked him to come to her room when there was so much risk surrounding it? When did she want him to bring Yvonne back, therefore damning her?
When had she asked for any of this?
The hazy heated feeling from their previous exchange faded from her body, replaced by a cold chill.
"Let go." She commanded coldly. The man snapped his head up, eyes widening in panic.
"Master-" He said, opening his mouth to protest but he was silenced by the piercing glare from Penelope.
The look was one that had never been directed at him before.
Stiffly, as though he had to force himself, the man released his grip on her leg. There was a beat, a moment, and then Penelope's leg lashed out and kicked the man in the face. His face jerked to the side with the impact where it stayed.
Penelope stared at him coldly, there wasn't a single trace of sympathy as blood trailed down his face from his nose.
Eventually she scoffed, lowering her leg. This perverse man, even though he kicked him, he still accommodated to her, even going so far to turn his head with her kick.
This was the man who didn't move an inch when getting punched by a fully trained knight. Penelope was not self-absorbed enough to think the kick from a petty noble girl would be enough to do what a knight could not.
He was so accommodating toward her, and yet he betrayed her in the worst way possible. What was with this sickening way of showing respect?
"Bow." Penelope commanded, more out of spite than anything.
The man moved to follow her request without a sliver of hesitation, pressing his head against the floor until his body was curled into a bow.
The sight of submission did not bring her any satisfaction however, if anything she felt more displeased. Every move of blind-devotion he made, every unhesitating act of obedience, just further reminded her that he was the person who betrayed her most.
Not the Duke, not Reynold, not even Derrick had made her suffer such a terrible loss, and yet this man acted as though he followed her without question, as though he were loyal to a fault.
It pissed her off, and without thinking, she kicked him again - this time in the chest. The light kicks wouldn't do anything to injure him, she doubted he could even feel it, but it served it's purpose of releasing her frustration.
"Why did you do it? Why did you bring that girl here? Why did you do the very thing that I wished desperately against!? Why did you commit the one thing I would never forgive-!" She curled her fists into a ball and stared at him with an anger untold. Her nails dug deeply into the skin of her palm, the only thing that grounded her .
How many months had it been, pampering this man, gaining his trust, risking her life, all to win his affections? And just when she was the closest to victory, to security and safety, this man pushed her right back into the abyss. He gave her hope and destroyed it with the same hand.
The man's gaze immediately flew to the blood dripping from her hands onto the floor. "Master!"" He shouted in concern, rising from his bow to reach toward her bleeding hands.
Penelope yanked her hands away with a glare. "Don't touch me.” She snapped. “You are not worthy to touch me."
For the first time Penelope saw a flicker of hurt flashed through his gray eyes, but she hardly cared. So what if he hurt? He had hurt her far worse, had doomed her to death without the slightest of considerations and all her work had to show for it was that damned red bar.
Her foot pressed into his chest, her heel digging in deep as punishment. "Do you know how bad you've messed up, Eckliss?" She muttered, saying his name for the first time that night. He looked up, his eyes meeting her frosty cold ones. Her eyes held not a hint of affection, completely void of any emotion.
His heart ached in his chest. What he would do, what he would give for her forgiveness. If he could go back, he would have snapped Yvvone's neck the instant she approached him — her words be damned. But it was too late for that. Because Eckliss hadn't snapped her neck. Instead he brought her back and his Master discarded him.
Now he was alone. Abandoned. Unneeded. Unwanted.
Slowly, he lowered his head, bending in his neck in submission. It felt like an admission of defeat. "Yes, Master."
Her heel pressed deeper. "How are you going to make it up, Eckliss?"
His head snapped up, and once more he met her cold gaze. However, this time, there was a hint of calculation.It was barely, barely there but it was something other than the cold indifference that Penelope had looked at him with since the incident and it sent a burst of hope through his heart.
"Anything." He answered immediately, not a single ounce of hesitation. "I'll do anything."
Penelope hummed, pressing her chin into the palm of her hand, absently grinding her heel into his chest.
She hated him.
She hated Eckliss.
He ruined everything for her. He betrayed her in the one way she could never forgive him for. She hated him more than anyone, more than her brothers or father.
She didn't think she would ever stop hating him. His crime against her too terrible to forget, to forgive.
And yet... she had put so much time into him. She had wasted so much effort. She was so so close.... if she gave up now, what other hope did she have?
What else could she do?
Her eyes flashed to the air above Eckliss's head. It was absent of the glowing red bar she had always seen before, but she doubted his percentage had dropped that much — if at all, since the last time she saw it.
It was a shame she could no longer view it but if she had to guess, it should be still be close to 100.
The second best, Castillo, was only at 80.
Penelope frowned, biting her lip as she turned her gaze back on Eckliss. He kneeled patiently at her bedside, his eyes staring at her in utter devotion as he waited for her to command him. It made her sick, the way he continued to act so devoted after betraying her.
It made her sick but...
It was her only chance.
She smiled self-deprecatingly. She had truly thrown her eggs in the wrong basket. How stupid of her.
Penelope sighed, lowering her foot.
Eckliss almost wanted to protest it — it was a punishment yes, but it was also the first time Penelope had touched him in days, and even if it was to kick him, it was better than being ignored.
"Eckliss." Penelope said coldly. "Are you hard?"
He stiffened immediately at her comment, quickly moving to shield his crotch from her view as a flush overtook his face. Penelope watched his actions impassively. It seemed he himself had forgotten the fact.
Very slowly and very deliberately, she lowered her foot until it pressed lightly against the large tent in his pants. Her lips curled into a cruel smirk under his confused gaze. "Isn't that shameful?"
Eckliss's crotch twitched under her foot.
Alright. She breathed in. Alright.
This'll work.
She could do this.
It was only 1%…
Penelope watched closely as Eckliss flushed a deep red, squirming slightly as her foot pressed onto his clothed crotch.
... whatever it took, she would achieve it.
It didn't matter that Yvonne was back, that her age-ceremony had come early, that all her plans were ruined.
As long as she reached 100%, she would be fine. She could still succeed.
Penelope pressed her foot down hard, earning a surprised yelp from Eckliss before he shuddered around her leg, his mouth falling open as he let out a stuttered breath.
Whatever it took.